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valeskafics · 3 months

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"Diary vs Journal" - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You find your stepbrother's poorly hidden diary. Journal. Whatever.

Word Count: 3,455

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: stepcest, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, reader is restrained, fingering, oral f receiving, hand on mouth, spit kink, p in v sex, tummy bulge, creampie, unprotected sex, lowkey breeding kink, dumbification, brat taming, praise kink, degradation kink, face sitting

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Coriolanus Snow does not keep a diary. What he keeps is a journal of his personal thoughts. Just because he keeps it hidden from others does not make it a diary, and he will die on that hill. He’s busy writing in it when you come banging on the door to his room, making him let out a groan of frustration as he quickly shoves the tiny book under his mattress before walking over to answer. There you are, in your little academy skirt and that tight little shirt, whining his name with a pout on your face. You want something. He can tell. You’re trying to be all cute. And he’s not going to give in this time. He’s not.

Except then you start tugging on his shirt, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes, “Can you read over my personal statement for my University application?”

He wants to say no. He should say no. He has his own statement to work on, why the hell should he be helping with yours? But then you say it, in that sweet little voice that has him practically melting into a puddle.

“Please, Coryo?”

Coryo lets out a sharp exhale before stepping aside to let you in his room, snatching the paper out of your hand, “Fine.”

You giggle, bounding in after him and plopping yourself down on his bed, “Best stepbrother ever!”

He rolls his eyes, though a smile curls at the corner of his lips at the sight of you making yourself comfortable on his bed. No matter how many times you walk into the room in that tiny little skirt, it never fails to make his pants feel suffocatingly tight. You comment on how comfy his bed is as you roll over onto your stomach, your skirt moving up just enough to reveal the hem of your lacy white panties, making his throat go dry.

“Yeah, I know,” Coryo says, turning away from you to take a cursory glance at your personal statement, his voice husky as he informs you, “I found some mistakes.”

You immediately sit up, brows pinched together as you retort, “No, you didn’t.”

He arches a brow, “Actually, I did. Not very well structured, some grammatical errors. Maybe I should just write it for you,” he suggests, no small amount of sarcasm in his tone.

Coryo narrowly manages to avoid a papercut as you try to grab the essay back from him, “You’re a jerk. I’ll ask someone else to read it. Like Sej.”

The idea of you going to Sejanus instead of him feels like a pit in his stomach, so he scoffs, staring you down as you continue jumping and trying to reach for the paper, “Sejanus has his own statement to worry about. He has no time or interest in editing yours. I already told you how bad it is.”

“Coryo!” You whine, “Don’t be mean!”

“I’m being honest,” he snickers, “I said I’d edit it, not that I’d be nice about it.”

“You’re a jerk,” you huff, stomping back over to his bed, taking a seat and glaring at him, arms crossed like a petulant child.

“And you’re a brat,” he shoots back, “Just sit down and let me finish editing this.”

And you do. For a little while. But, as always, you get bored and start poking around his things, running your hands over his pillows, his blanket, looking over his nightstand. There’s a picture of the two of you and Tigris, back when your mom first married Coryo’s dad. The three of you were quite young then. It brings a smile to your face as you set it back down, unaware that those blue eyes are trained on you, watching your every move.

That’s when you see it. The tiny little book poking out from under the mattress. Coryo feels like his entire world is running in slow motion as you pull it out, staring at the tiny little thing, a grin on your face as you ask him a question he almost doesn’t hear.

“Is this your diary, Coryo?”

He grits his teeth, “Why the hell would I have a diary? Just give it back.”

You ignore him, opening the book to a random page, reading the contents of it aloud as you giggle to yourself, quite content with your discovery, “Let’s see. ‘May 17th. She’s driving me insane.’ Oooh,” you turn to him, “Does someone have a crush?”

Coryo’s face flushes red, barely able to resist tackling you to the bed, “Give. It. Back.”

“Nope,” you chirp, continuing to read, “‘I’ve never seen such a perfect body on a woman before. She’s like a goddess with that ass, those breasts.’ Jeez, Coryo, perv much?!”

He stomps over to you, trying to grab the journal from your hands, his voice sterner than before as he demands, “Give it.”

You scramble over his bed, continuing, “‘I saw her coming out of the shower today, her hair all wet, that towel barely hiding anything. I’ve never been so fucking hard in my life.��” You look at him, questioning obliviously, “Wow, who’s the lucky girl?”

Coryo could just about strangle you. He lunges for you, tackling you onto the bed, snatching the journal out of your hands, rolling his eyes when you tease him that he’s being quite touchy, that stupidly adorable pout on your face, like you’ve just had your favorite toy snatched away from you.

“Yeah, I’m fucking touchy,” he snaps, “You’re reading something I wrote in private.”

“It’s not like you haven’t snuck into my room and tried to find my diary!” You retort, “I see how my drawers have been gone through, Coriolanus, I’m not an idiot!”

He stutters slightly at your accusation, knowing it to be unequivocally true, “Yeah, well, my actions don’t justify yours, alright!” Coryo stares you down, a serious look on his face, “It’s private information. You don’t get to read it.”

You let out an annoyed huff, blowing a strand of hair off of your face before demanding, “Fine, whatever. Gimme my essay back, I’ll ask Tigris to edit it.”

“No, you won’t,” he tells you, his voice firm as he loses patience with that bratty attitude of yours, “Sit back down. Now.”

“No,” you sass, “I don’t wanna hang out with you anymore. You’re mean and boring. I’ll go to Clemmie’s and work on it with her-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he cuts you off, his voice sharp as he glares at you, “So you’re just going to ignore me when I tell you to sit down, huh? Sit. Down.”

“Come here and make me, you big jerk!”

It’s a line the two of you have toed for a long time. And today, he takes that final step, his temper flaring with how fucking far you’ve pushed him. Coryo grabs you by the waist, pinning you down against his bed with his body, gaze boring into you as he does. You blink owlishly, staring up at him.

“Oh… Oh, you actually did.”

Of course you’re surprised. Why wouldn’t you be? Your whole life, your stepbrother has let you get away with anything with just a bat of those lashes. But here you are, pinned down beneath him, his breath warm against your face as he runs his nose along your neck, his lips reaching your ear as he hisses.

“Never call me names again.”

“I didn’t call you names!” You protest, squirming against him, trying to worm your way out from underneath him, “Come on, Coryo, I was gonna go shopping with Clemmie and Arachne-”

“You called me a jerk,” he cuts you off, moving to hold you firmly in place by the arms, “You’re not leaving this goddamn room until I get an apology from that smart little mouth.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Fine, I’m sorry I read your stupid diary!”

“That’s a start, princess,” he whispers lowly, still holding you in place, “Now, admit something.”

“What?”

“Admit that what you read made you a little curious.”

Before you even open your mouth, he knows he’s about to get some wise ass response, “Sure I wanna know who it’s about, what poor girl you’re so bricked up for-”

“It was about you.” Silence. Nothing but the sound of your breath and his before he breaks it, leaning in, his lips a hair’s breadth from your own as he murmurs, “It was always about you.”

Your lips part in surprise as you stare up at him, watching that errant curl fall into his eyes as you question, “Me? I thought it was Clemmie or someone,” you mumble, looking away, “I was kinda jealous.”

Coryo smirks at you, moving a hand to cup your cheek, “You were jealous, princess?” You nod shyly, refusing to meet his gaze. He turns you to face him, speaking softly, “It’s only you, baby. Only you.”

“You,” you breathe, “You really like me that much?”

“Is it too much?”

There’s an earnest vulnerability in his voice as he asks the question, and you give him an honest response, “No. No, it’s… I love it.” You’re quiet for a moment, just gazing into each other’s eyes before you tease, “Hardest you’ve ever been in your life? Coryo, you’re such a drama queen!”

He lets out a quiet laugh, his curls tickling your forehead as he leans in close to you, “It was true. I… You have an effect on me.”

You gaze up at him, your lips nearly brushing against his as you whisper breathily, “I… I wrote about you too. In my diary.”

“It’s a journal, not a- Wait, you did?” Coryo asks, cutting himself off, eyes going wide, leaning in closer, requesting in a soft voice, barely above a whisper, “Tell me what you wrote?”

You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, “No, Coryo, it’s so embarrassing!”

“Tell me,” he insists, desperate to know.

You lay beneath him, so soft and delicate and perfect, and all he wants to know is if you feel the same way. If you want him the way he wants you. He can’t give up and let you walk away. He needs to know.

“Wrote about how handsome I think you are,” you admit after a moment, “How I wanna kiss you. How I want you to touch me all over.”

You say it so simply, so innocently. He thought you would say how safe he makes you feel, how you enjoy spending time with him. But no. You want this. You want exactly what he does. He can feel his cock swelling in his pants at your words, rubbing himself up against your thigh as he manages to groan out another question.

“Was that all?” You shake your head, “Then what else did you write, princess?”

You can feel him against you, the flimsy lace of your panties and his uniform pants serving as the only barrier between your pussy and his cock. He feels so hard and heavy as he presses his bulge against you, grinding into you ever so slightly.

“Don’t make me say,” you plead, “It’s embarrassing…”

Coryo chuckles, shaking his head, “No, baby, you’re going to tell me everything.”

“Said when it’s late at night and I get lonely,” you breathe, “And I start to feel that ache between my thighs, that I think of you.”

He swallows thickly, breath tremulous as he asks in a hoarse voice, “And what else?”

“That I use my fingers,” you say, gazing up at him, “And pretend they’re yours. But yours are so much longer and would be so much better.”

“Go on,” he urges, moving against you, grinding himself against you, nearly hyperventilating with excitement, “Please.”

“That you have a pretty face. And I’d love to sit on it.”

“Good girl.”

You moan softly as he captures your lips with his own, his kiss hot and needy and so perfect. He can’t resist running his fingers through your hair, crushing your body against his own as he continues to kiss you passionately, his tongue moving against yours, massaging it gently. You can feel him smirking against your lips, ever the picture of confidence. And it turns you on like nothing else. You need him, you need him so fucking badly, and you don’t hesitate to tell him that. A small smile crosses his lips as he removes his jacket and then his tie, using the latter to tie your wrists to his bedpost. You pout up at him, annoyed.

“Coryo!”

“You thought I was going to let you be in control after saying all of that?” He smirks, “No, princess. You’re all mine. And I can do anything I want with you. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

You tug at your restraints, but to no avail, giving him a halfhearted glare when you give up, “So mean.”

“And you’re so mine,” Coryo retorts cheekily, watching the way you struggle.

You bite back a smile at his words, kissing him back the moment his lips meet yours. His hands are all over you, sliding his hands up your shirt, squeezing at every inch of flesh he can touch. You’re so soft and pliant beneath his hands, he can hardly bear it. His lips move to your neck, down to your collarbone, teeth grazing against your skin. He can’t stop, he needs you so fucking badly. He bites down, tongue moving to lave attention over the abused skin before he unbuttons your uniform shirt. His gaze darkens with lust as he admires you in that lacy white bra. He moves to mouth at one of your tits over the lace fabric, groaning as he grows impossibly harder in his pants. Coryo moves to unbutton his shirt, tossing it aside and revealing his lithe, lean body, his toned muscles, before moving to undo his pants.

One furtive gaze downward makes your mouth water at the way his cock strains against the fabric of his briefs. You want to touch him so fucking bad, but he doesn’t seem to want to let you. He moves to kiss your stomach, your toes curling at the way he traces his tongue over your skin before gazing up at you, a heady look in his eyes.

“Beg me.”

You just stare at him in confusion for a moment before he goes back to swirling his tongue around your navel, making you squeal his name, “C-Coryo, please!”

It’s addicting to him, hearing you like this, seeing you so vulnerable. He moves lower and lower still until he reaches his final destination. His fingers trace you lightly over the fabric of your panties, chuckling at the fact that they’re already soaked. He pushes the fabric aside before pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against you. His tongue feels so perfect as it moves in and out of you, lapping at your folds, his gaze trained on you all the while. Your legs dangle over his shoulder as he continues mouthing at your cunt, moaning as he does, feeling himself getting dangerously close to his own peak as he ruts against the mattress. Your sounds of pleasure, those soft little sighs and whines, they spur him on as he continues tasting you, watching your entire body tense as you reach your peak.

But all Coryo does is pull back and remove your underwear entirely before bringing his mouth back against you, loving the way your entire body trembles as he continues pleasuring you, the overstimulation from barely being over your last orgasm making you whimper, your eyes watering. He just flattens his tongue, moving it against your clit, making you cry out his name. And that just fuels his fire as you reach your peak once more. He’s going to keep going, he decides, replaces his tongue with his fingers, reveling in the way you squeeze around him, a teaser of what’s still to come. Your pussy clenches around him as you squirm, his fingers rubbing against that spongy spot deep inside of you, the one you’re never quite able to reach.

And when you soak his fingers, all he does is move even faster, making tears of ecstasy fall down your face, streaking your cheeks as you lay there, the knot in your stomach tightening as he moves his fingers in and out of you over and over, dragging another orgasm from you.

“My poor dumb little baby,” he coos, moving off of you to take off his briefs, freeing his long, thick cock, precum weeping from the tip, swaying ever so slightly, the sight mesmerizing you, making your mouth water, “Have I fucked you so stupid with my fingers that you’ve forgotten how to speak?”

You want to argue back, yell at him, but when you feel the tip of his cock press up against you, pushing in ever so slightly before pulling out, repeating the action a few times, you know he’s right. He has you speechless. You stare up at him pleadingly, wanting him to just fuck you already. And he takes some small degree of mercy on you, fully sheathing his cock inside you with one quick thrust. You whine, legs wrapping around him.

“Too big,” you babble incoherently, “Oh God, Coryo, you’re going to split me in half.”

“Shh, baby,” he purrs soothingly, his hand moving to rub your clit gently, relaxing you as he buries himself inside you, “That’s a good girl. Taking me so well, such a perfect little slut for me.”

The dirty smirk Coryo gives you makes you buck your hips up against him desperately, pleading, “Please, Coryo, need you so bad.”

“And you’re gonna keep needing me, princess,” he grunts, snapping his hips against yours, “No one else will ever be enough for you.”

Every time he pulls back and pushes inside you, the head of his cock rubs against that same spot, making your entire body tremble, bringing you closer and closer, his forehead resting against yours as he works his hips against you. He fucks you like he hates you, but you know it’s the farthest thing from that. His hand moves to your jaw, your lips parting, and he surprises you by spitting into your mouth, demanding you to swallow. It’s filthy, but so very erotic. You obey him without question. His hand then moves down your chest to your stomach, splaying across it as he grins, pressing down on the outline of his cock, the sensation making you squeal as he rips another orgasm from your poor body.

Coryo spills himself moments after, and for a moment? He watches with satisfaction as his cum leaks out of your pussy, musing to himself that he’s never going to have to finish in his hand again. Not when he has you. You think he’s done with you as he moves to untie your wrists and lay beside you. However, all he does is grab you by the hips and fix you with a sharp look.

“Sit on my face.”

Your eyes go wide, your thighs shaking from all that’s happened so far. He can’t be serious, right? But he is. You move to straddle his face, hesitantly lowering yourself down onto him, grabbing onto the bedpost as he yanks you down, burying his face between your thighs. You cry out his name, one hand moving down to twist in his gorgeous golden curls as he nuzzles his nose against your clit and fucks you with his tongue. You could die a happy woman in this moment, with how he’s making you feel.

Coryo’s cock twitches, slowly hardening again at the taste of you, the feeling of your plush thighs wrapped around him. He palms at himself while continuing to devour your sweet little pussy, thinking that it’s a bit pathetic he’s hard and so close to cumming again just from this, but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted this for so goddamn long now. He tastes his cum inside you, mixed with the evidence of your own arousal, and it isn’t at all unpleasant. The thought makes him smirk.

This is perfect. This is better than any fantasy he ever had that he wrote in his journal. Diary. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. And when you come undone, nearly sobbing his name, collapsing onto the bed beside him, entirely spent, he knows it.

Everything has changed between the two of you.

You rest your head against his chest, the two of you cuddling up to each other as you tease, “Are you going to write about this in your diary?”

Coryo bristles at the word, fixing you with an annoyed look, “It’s not a diary, princess, it’s a journal.”

“Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.”

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller✨

✨Masterlist✨

dbf! Joel x fem! reader

A/N: Hey, guys! Super excited to kick off my first dbf! Joel series. It was originally going to be a one shot, but after some thought I wanted to write more. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Always like to hear your thoughts ☺️ Joel is a menace in this one! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

- Summary: After going out with your classmate from graduate school, Mr. Miller doesn’t take so kindly to your date when he sees you out and about with the college jock. Will the older, attractive man you’ve been pining after for years finally give you what you’ve been wanting for so long?

- Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

- Rating: Explicit 18+ Only MDNI

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

Part 1: Blurring the Lines

Part 2: Secret Glances and Wandering Hands

Part 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred

Part 4: Birthday Candles and Rock Concerts

Part 5: Let Me Take You There (Coming Soon!)

*Hot Tubs and Calloused Fingers* (Coming Soon!)

Part 6

Part 7

Recommended songs for series “Scary Love” and “Daddy Issues” and “A Little Death” by The Neighbourhood

Part 1 Word Count: 13.6k

The warm August air blows your long hair gently as you sit outside Moonlight Bar, letting the Austin city lights shine in the distance. The lighting is low as the dark blue luminescence of the bar surrounds the alcohol on the back shelf and various plants hang above the edges of the bar. The Goo Goo Dolls play softly across the outside speakers as people mingle together at various white wooden tables strewn across the manicured green lawn. It’s a busy night, one of the more popular bars in the area.

You’re sitting with William. One of the boys that’s in one of your law classes at the University of Texas. He wouldn’t leave you alone at school, so you figured you’d appease him and let him take you out on a date.

He isn’t bad looking. He has shaggy blonde hair and bright green eyes. He’s built like a body builder and has a jawline so sharp that it could cut someone. He’s nice and all, but he won’t stop talking about fucking football. You hate football, but you just smile and nod along to what he says. Occasionally rolling your eyes when he isn’t looking at you.

“Did you see the quarterback get slammed at the game last Saturday? Tim took him out hard! I thought he’d never get up!” he says starstruck as he shows you a picture from the game on his phone, slamming back another drink of vodka as he lowers it to the table.

“I already told you I didn’t watch the game,” you say, trying not to sound obnoxious.

“Oh, right. Well, you missed out. It was awesome!” he shouts as the group of people next to you look at William. You internally groan at the embarrassment that’s caked on your face. You need to get up for a few minutes. You’re bored and want to cut the talk on sports.

“I’ll be right back,” you utter as you get up from the barstool.

“Where are you going?” he asks with a hurt expression on his face.

“To the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few minutes, chill,” you say as you put a hand on his shoulder encouragingly and walk away. You roll your eyes at the action and start walking towards the back where the bathrooms are.

William really is a nice guy, he just isn’t the guy for you. You don’t have that much in common, and he’s way too into football. Granted, he did play as an undergrad, but you don’t really care. You want to talk about subjects other than sports, like maybe something you care about. He never makes an effort to ask you about yourself though. He just wants to talk about sports and his gym routine.

What a bore.

He’s a few years older than you. He’s twenty-eight, and you’re twenty-five. Soon to be twenty-six in a couple of months. You always had a thing for older guys. But lately you had your eyes set on someone else. Someone off limits to you which made you want him even more. But it would never happen. You needed to quit telling yourself it would. He’s too old for you, in his mid forties. Which only makes you that much more curious.

You aren’t watching where you’re going as you round the corner of a small crowd and run straight into someone who feels like a thick brick wall.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going and…” You stop mid sentence as you see just who stands in front of you.

Joel Miller. Your dad’s hot best friend, the older man you can’t get out of your head.

“S’alright, sweetheart. Didn’t think I’d run into you here,” he says as he laughs, his smile making his honey brown eyes crinkle up at the corners, making you swoon and melt under his gaze.

God, he’s pretty.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with surprise in your voice.

“Havin’ a drink? It’s the weekend. Gotta relax somehow,” he says with another small smile as his Texas accent comes out thick and low. That melodic southern accent that could put you at ease on any given day.

“Oh, right.” You move a lock of hair behind your ear nervously and you swear he watches you a little too closely as his eyes trail to your neck, keeping his gaze there a little too long.

“You come with anyone tonight?” he asks as he looks around the crowded bar, bringing his focus back to you.

“Yeah. Came with a date tonight. Someone from one of my classes,” you say carefully.

His bottom lip twinges and his jaw clenches just enough for you to notice. His bicep flexes around his forest green plaid shirt as it’s rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider all the way down his lower arms as they end in his massive hands. You gulp at the sight of him, of how seriously hot he is.

Was he jealous of William? Surely not…right?

“You be careful tonight. Don’t let him do anything you don’t want to,” he warns with a deep gruff in his voice, staring at you with serious, dark eyes.

“He’s not going to do anything. He’s nice. He’s-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. “Doesn’t matter if he’s nice. He’s a guy. He can change up on you like that.” He snaps his fingers, looking at you intently. “Jus’ be careful, okay?”

Why was he being like this? Protective. He wasn’t your dad. He didn’t need to keep an eye on you. You had it under control.

“I’ll be careful, but you really don’t have to tell me that. You sound just like my dad,” you say as you roll your eyes, annoyed.

“I ain’t your dad, sweetheart. Jus’ tryin’ to look after ya is all. Don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

Oh.

“Right. Okay…” you say quietly.

Joel skates his eyes down your body as he takes in the tight black tank top as your cleavage spills out a little too much, going over your short, light blue jean shorts as they barely graze your tan thighs, dragging his eyes down your long legs and ending at your clean, white Converse shoes as he slowly looks back up into your eyes.

You suddenly feel self conscious, like you need to cover up a little more. Not like he hasn’t seen you in short shorts and a tank top before. Hell, he saw you in a slinky bikini last summer at a pool party and the man couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

You wouldn’t lie though, you love when he notices you. When he flicks his eyes over you and lingers just a little too long, making you burn with heat from his intense stare. He’s the one you have wet dreams about, the older man you can’t quite shake from your fantasies. But he’s off limits. Because he’s your father’s best friend. And he would never dare touch his best friend’s daughter…right?

“Well, I’ll let ya get back to it. Don’t wanna keep ya from your date. I’ll be around here if ya need me. Just shoot me a text.”

You nod in reply and make your way over to the bathroom, turning to watch Joel disappear into the crowd somewhere. A sea of green getting lost in the abyss. You sigh and walk into the bathroom, trying to get a hold of yourself.

You had met Joel when you were just eighteen years old. He had just moved into the neighborhood, and your dad made quick friends with him. Pretty soon they were best friends. He was always coming to the house to hang out with your dad, always coming to pool parties or cookouts. He even taught you how to play guitar when you asked. And he was a good teacher, the way his hands slid across yours. Those rough, calloused fingers. You’d do anything to be able to feel those again on your skin.

You wondered how they’d feel on your thighs or even someplace else. Someplace sensitive…

You finish up in the bathroom and make your way back to William. Back to where you belong tonight. You need to stop thinking about Joel. He wasn't the one that was taking you out and never would be. Even if that’s something you want, so badly.

“Oh, you’re back. You missed this great conversation me and this guy had about Jake’s pass last week with the football. It was killer!” he shouts as you settle back into your barstool and get situated.

You roll your eyes and give him a polite smile. You’re so over the football talk. Couldn’t he give it a rest? You take a large drink from your red bull vodka and place it back on the bar top as you chase it down, letting it leave a slight burn in your throat.

When you look back up and turn your head slightly to the left, you almost fall off the barstool as you see Joel sitting across the bar, just on the opposite side. He’s drinking what looks to be a cold glass of whiskey on the rocks as the amber color swirls in the cup.

He takes another sip as he keeps his eyes fixed on you intently, letting his eyes roam up and down your body as a faint snarl edges the side of his mouth as he looks over at William.

Holy shit. He is jealous. You can see it in those dark brown eyes as they slightly narrow at the loud mouthed man that sits next to you as he rambles on about football.

He swirls the short straw around his drink as he eyes you again, this time his gaze relaxing into warmth as a gentle smile plays on his lips. You blush at the brooding man and bite your lip as you look down, unable to keep your focus on the intense dark eyes that are staring at you.

What’s his deal? He never dared tried to flirt with you before. Not like this. At least not around your dad. You always felt that invisible line get drawn at times though. Like last summer when you were in a tight, short dress, about to go out with some friends for the night. You felt his eyes burn through you as he stared at your thighs as he glazed over your toned, tanned body. You could feel it in the room how thick the tension was. But he didn’t dare cross that line. Not while he was in the presence of your father.

Joel’s a good guy. He’d never do anything to disrespect or hurt you. He’s kind and caring, always willing to help you out when you need it. Like with your projects or guitar. Or that time when he picked you up when your car got stuck in the snow and drove you all the way back home in the middle of an ice storm.

He’s special. One of a kind. You just don’t understand why he’s still single when he’s drop dead gorgeous. And his curls.

God, his curls. The way his thick, tousled hair curls at the edges as grey streaks line his dark hair. And his beard. That thick, scruffy salt and pepper beard that you want to graze your fingers across in a flirtatious manner. Thinking of how good his lips might feel on yours. How soft and velvety they must be…

You snap out of it as William tries talking to you again. You avert your eyes from Joel and put your attention on the guy that sits next to you.

“Did you finish the paper yet from Mr. Lawrence’s class yet?” he asks as he takes a sip of his vodka drink.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been done for a few days now. Wanted to knock it out before more work got piled on,” you reply nonchalantly.

“Cool. I still got a ways to go. But anyways, you wanna go to the football game next weekend? Our team’s playing here. Thought you’d want to maybe go with me?” he asks with raised eyebrows and green eyes that search yours, hoping for a yes to come from your lips.

That was a hard pass. “Sorry, I already have plans that day,” you lie, trying to sound apologetic to soothe his hopefulness.

“That’s fine. There will be other games.”

You roll your eyes as you internally groan. You’re bored and you don’t want to be sitting here with him anymore. You need someone that isn’t boring. Someone that’s older, much older. Someone with pretty brown eyes and thick arms covered in plaid…

You look up from your long, thick lashes and meet Joel’s stare again as it sears through your skull. His gaze is so intense that it stirs something low in your stomach that feels a lot like heat.

This was bad. Really bad.

You squeeze your legs shut and put out the growing fire, dropping your gaze again so you won’t be tempted to be pulled back into the flames.

William puts a hand on your thigh and leans into you as you catch a whiff of his strong vodka drink on his breath. Joel looks like he could break the glass right under his fingertips the way he’s holding the cup.

Oh, he’s mad. But why? It’s not like he was supposed to take you out. He’s your fucking father’s best friend for God’s sake. You need to get out of the sick delusion that Joel actually likes you more than his best friend’s daughter. He’s only trying to be nice, protective. He’s only looking out for you because that’s what he should be doing, for your dad.

But then why is he looking at you like that? Like he wants to eat you alive and wants to snap the neck of your god awful date.

“You okay if I do this?” William asks as he rakes his teeth over your neck roughly. Nothing is sexy about it. It hurts and his teeth are sharp, and his breath smells horrible. He puts his hand back on your thigh and squeezes as his nails dig into your skin in an extremely uncomfortable way. You wince at his actions.

“William, no. We’re in public. I don’t think-”

Before you can finish your sentence, Joel’s on him in a second, pulling him away from your body as he yanks him out of his seat. Your breath catches at the way Joel is seething and breathing hard as he glares at William with daggers in his dark eyes.

“Don’t think she wants ya doin’ that,” he snarls as venom shoots from his tongue.

“Who the fuck are you to touch me and pull me from my woman?” he yells at Joel as his nostrils flare and his green eyes turn to tiny slits.

“She ain’t your woman,” Joel scoffs, clearly annoyed at the younger, less mature male.

“Oh, and who are you? You her keeper or something?” he asks angrily.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replies, his voice clipped.

Your eyes widen at the statement. Was he marking his territory? He had to be. Or maybe he was just being protective, helping out his best friend to keep his daughter safe. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

Or maybe it did. You can’t tell one way or the other. Your mind’s a blur.

William rolls his eyes and looks over at you. “You want to get out of here? Come on, I’ll-”

You stop him before he can finish that sentence. “No.”

He goes livid as his green eyes turn to murky swamp water. “No? Are you fucking serious?” he asks with shocked words.

“The lady said no,” Joel states firmly as he steps in front of you, blocking William’s view.

“Baby, come on. Let’s go,” William demands, holding out his hand for you to take.

“I’m not yours…” you reply quietly.

“Fine! You can walk home then, bitch,” he says with clenched teeth and a hard line across his forehead.

“Watch how you fuckin’ talk to her,” Joel growls as he pushes William up against the bar table, making the rest of his vodka spill as it lands in a heap on the floor along with the mixed in broken glass.

“You really want to go there? Because I’ll tear you apart,” William yells.

“Go on then. Try.” Joel bares his teeth and flexes his hand into a tight fist.

You can’t let them fight. You won’t let Joel get hurt, even if he can take on William. What would your dad say?

You quickly intercept and step in between them. You put your hands on Joel’s broad chest and try to push him back. “Joel, stop. He’s not worth it.”

Joel clenches his jaw and stares hard at William, about to put a fist in his face. You put your hand over his tight fist and beg him to stop. “Please.”

Joel’s fist relaxes as he looks down at you, his brown eyes softening just the slightest as he focuses on you. Butterflies were swimming through your stomach at the heat that was between the two of you. You had never been this close to Joel. You were only inches from his mouth, so close that you could reach out and brush your lips over his. So very close…

William rips you away from your thoughts as you hear him grab his keys and turn sharply your way. “Have it your way. Enjoy the old man’s company. I’m out of here.” He storms away from the bar in a hurry, leaving you and Joel alone. Together.

You suddenly realize you’re still leaning against his chest, your hand still planted firmly on his. You drop your hand and back away from his space as you rake a hand through your soft curls.

“Thanks for that. You didn’t have to,” you say nervously, your voice cracking at the thank you.

“Save it, darlin’. I could already tell you weren’t havin’ a good time, and then he put his hands all over you. Greedy bastard.” He bares his teeth as he clenches his jaw.

Greedy bastard? Well, goddamn. He does like you. He had to. Otherwise he wouldn’t be talking to you like this. Right?

“Oh uhh, yeah…” You don’t really know what to say to that. And the way he’s flaring his nostrils is making you have heart palpitations. He had never looked that mad before. At least not over you.

“You want a drink? It’s on me,” he says as he tilts his head toward the bar.

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, trying not to act like you’re flipping circles inside.

“C’mon then.” He walks you to the bar and pulls out a barstool for you as you sit down. He takes a seat next to you, gently brushing his thigh against yours as he gets into place. You can’t help but gasp a little at the touch. It feels electric.

The young, red head bartender comes over and asks for your drink orders. “Hi, guys. What’ll it be tonight?”

Joel looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, looking you over slowly as if he’s trying to figure it out. It makes chills run down your spine. “Let me guess. Malibu sunset?”

He never gets it wrong. He knows your drink of choice like the back of his own hand. It was that slight attention he always gave you that did it for you. He was always listening, always so attentive when you spoke. He knew you so well it was almost scary. No other man had paid that much attention to you, nonetheless listened to you ramble about your likes and dislikes. But Joel always did.

“You remembered?” you ask with a faint smile.

“‘Course, darlin’. How could I forget?”

You slightly blush and place your arms on the bar top as you lean on it, trying to calm yourself down. He orders his usual whiskey on the rocks, his drink of choice. A scent that you can sometimes smell on his breath when he’s sitting close to you like now. Something you want to taste on his tongue. But that’s only a daydream. That would never happen. Right?

“So, how’s school going this semester?” he asks as he turns towards you, placing one of his arms on the bar top as his plaid shirt squeezes around his flexed bicep, making you uncomfortably hot just looking at his massive arms.

“It’s going well. I mean, it’s hard. Really hard, but I’m managing. I can’t tell you how many papers I’ve had to write already, but I seem to be doing something right because I have straight A’s,” you beam.

“Straight A’s huh? You always were a sharp thing.” He’s looking at you with those deep honey eyes, gently smiling as he admires you. A sight that makes you weak at the knees as you stare at his perfect dimples.

And those eyes. God, those pretty brown eyes. You want to drown in them. Let them grab hold of you as they drag you deeper and deeper until you suffocate under the weight of them.

“Actually, I’m at the top of my class,” you brag, nonchalantly.

Joel lets out a low whistle as he leans back in awe, giving you a once over. “‘Course you are, darlin’. Such a smart girl…” he whispers low and deep, making you bite your lower lip slowly.

There it was. That tension in the air. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the room. That deep smolder that puts dangerous daydreams in your mind. Hot, sticky daydreams…

The bartender breaks the tension as he sets the drinks down in front of you and walks back off without so much as a “let me know if you need anything else” line. He just walks away and helps some loud couple on the other side of the bar.

You swirl the straw around your yellow, pineapple drink and take a sip, letting the tropical taste run down your throat. It’s sweet and delicious, just how you like it.

Joel picks up his whiskey glass and takes a generous gulp. You watch as the rim of the glass kisses his lips, how he takes his tongue and runs it over the bottom of his lips, how he holds the glass tightly as the amber liquid clinks against the ice. You never wanted to be a glass as bad as you did now.

You bite your lip slowly as he puts the glass down and wipes his bottom lip with his thumb as he slowly grazes it over his lip. It’s slow, seductive, the hottest thing you had ever seen. You want to know just how soft those lips are, how good he tastes, how his calloused fingers would feel on your skin…

You shake your head and free the dirty thoughts from your mind. He’s your father’s best friend! This couldn’t happen. Ever. But fuck did you want it to. You never wanted anything as bad as this in your whole entire life. He was just so…perfect.

Last summer when your family had a party at the lake house, your friends all whispered how hot Joel was in his tight grey t-shirt and swim trunks. They’d say how built he was, how he must be great in bed, and they had called him the hottest dilf they’d ever seen. Of course they were right, but you were jealous of them. Because you wanted to be the only one that had eyes for him. You wanted him. Period. Even if he was strictly off limits.

He sits the glass down on the smooth bar top and turns back around, putting his full attention on you. “You uhhh, been seein’ anyone besides that handsy asshole lately?” he asks with darker eyes, a hint of anger on the tip of his tongue as his eyebrows furrow together.

There it was. That jealousy swirling off his tongue. Or overprotectiveness. Or possibly both. You couldn’t tell which it was.

“No, not really. Haven’t been dating much lately,” you say quietly.

“How come?” He’s curious. His eyebrows raise and he focuses intently on you, leaning in just a tad bit closer so he can hear you over the noisy crowd.

“Guess I just haven’t been interested in anyone,” you shrug, blowing it off like it isn’t a big deal, but apparently it is to him.

“Oh, but I’m sure guys are always askin’ ya out. A pretty thing like you, surely. Bet all their eyes are on ya.”

A pretty thing like you? The man just called you pretty. You swear you see stars in your eyes. The room feels dizzy as you take another drink, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

“I mean, not really,” you shake your head disagreeing.

“I don’t really believe that, you’re gorgeous. They’re missin’ out on a great girl. Just give it time. You’ll find someone worth your while.” He takes another sip of whiskey and looks at you from the corner of his eye, keeping those brown eyes only on you.

A great girl? Gorgeous?! You can’t help but feel a little disappointed when he says that you’ll find someone worth your while. You don’t want to find just someone, you want him and only him. That’s what you really want. But you need to stop mixing reality with fantasy. Joel would never let that happen. He wouldn’t disrespect your father like that or would he? You hoped he would.

“Have you finished my guitar yet?” you ask all of a sudden excited to see it. Joel was customizing your acoustic guitar and carving sunflowers into the wood. You’d asked him if he could do it because his woodwork was exceptional and you only wanted your guitar in the best hands. He said yes automatically, giving it no thought.

“I am. Just want to polish it up and then she’s all yours,” he says proudly, his smile crinkling up the edges of his mouth, exposing his adorable dimples that you love.

“Can I come see it?” you ask, almost begging with your eyes.

“Tonight?” he asks, hesitating just a bit with his voice.

“I mean, unless you have other plans,” you say, shrugging your shoulders slightly. He looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes, and you notice his hand on his thigh slowly flex like he’s in deep thought.

Why was he hesitating? He had never hesitated around you before. But also, you’d never really been alone with him before. He’d occasionally picked you up a couple times or you’d be alone with him in the room for a few minutes at your house while your dad was grabbing something, but not in his house. Not alone, just the two of you.

He finally speaks as he runs a hand through his tousled curls, watching as they fall back into place perfectly. “No, don’t have any other plans. So, yeah. You’re welcome to come see it. I’ll have you try it out, see how you like it.”

“Maybe you can give me another lesson? It’s been awhile. You’re a great guitar teacher, best I ever had,” you smile at him, just on the edge of being flirtatious and drawing that thin line that you were about to cross.

“That so, darlin’?” he smirks, giving you butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“Mhm,” you hum, taking another sip of your fruity drink.

“Well, glad to hear it. And we’ll see,” he says in a low voice.

He finishes up his whiskey and waits patiently for you to finish off your drink. As soon as you’re done, he pays for the drinks as the bartender takes up the tab.

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks as he stands up, pulling out his barstool.

“More than ready,” you respond as you get up and pull your denim shorts down. Joel’s eyes wander down to your tan thighs, and you swear you see that smoldering stare burning in his eyes return as he takes in the sight of your long legs. His gaze stays a few seconds too long as he quickly looks back up into your eyes, trying to play it off as he runs a hand through his thick curls slowly.

A low heat starts in your core, and you have to squeeze your legs together to ease the tension that was there. You’re already wet from seeing how your long legs affected him.

Fuck. You wanted him. Bad.

“Alright, c’mon then. Truck’s this way.” He leads you out of the busy bar as you wind your way through the crowd of people. He puts his hand on the small of your back, and you almost jolt at the action. He’d never done that before. But it feels…good. And you want his hand to continue to stay there, burning all the way down to your skin.

When you get out to the white Chevy, he unlocks the doors and then you climb into the front passenger seat. It’s nice and clean in here and smells like him. That woodsy pine smell that you love just lingering in the air. It makes you a little dizzy.

After he buckles his seatbelt, he puts the key in the ignition and then the truck rumbles lightly, the engine roaring to life. Ghost plays softly on the radio as the volume is turned low. You played Joel one of their songs a while ago and then he got hooked on them. You had to applaud yourself for getting him into your taste of music. Maybe one of these days he’d take you to their concert.

“I see you’re still listening to Ghost?” you ask with raised brows as you look over at him, laughing. He’s holding the steering wheel tight as he drives down the busy city streets, paying close attention to where he’s going.

“‘Course. Can’t believe you got me into them,” he says as he shakes his head, a gentle smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Well, you can’t deny they’re good. I mean, come on. Tobias is a musical genius,” you go on, getting lost in the song that’s playing on the speakers.

“No, you’re right. He’s good. Wouldn’t mind seein’ them if they ever decided to come to Austin,” he replies as he turns a corner, rotating the steering wheel sharp as his large hands grip around the leather. You watch the way his knuckles grasp the steering wheel strongly, wishing you could feel those hands on your body instead.

“Would you take me?” you ask quietly, blurring the lines of a boundary you shouldn’t cross.

His jaw slightly flexes as he flicks his eyes over to you. “If you’d wanna go, I’d take ya.” He looks back at the road before you respond.

“Really?” you ask shocked, not expecting that answer.

“Mhm. Might be fun,” he hums.

You sit back in your seat and smile out your passenger side window triumphantly as you watch the glow of the evening city lights pass by in a blur. This was nice. Having a little alone time with Joel. You didn’t think it’d go anywhere, but you were still glad you were here. With him.

Ghost’s song “Spillways” comes on next, and your eyes go wide as you jolt forward, reaching for the volume so you can turn it up. “I love this song!” you say excitedly.

You guess Joel had the same idea because he ends up reaching for the volume too. Your hand connects with his as he brushes against the top of yours. You gasp at the contact of his rough hand and quickly pull it away.

When Joel drops his hand, it connects with a plastic water bottle in the cup holder and sends it over the edge, tumbling down your way. He quickly reaches out to catch it, but he misses as it goes spiraling to the floorboard. Instead, his hand lands right on top of your thigh as his calloused fingers connect with your smooth skin.

Your eyes go wide as you hold in a breath. His hand feels so good. Both rough and soft at the same time, somehow the two intermingling with each other. His fingers gently curl against the edge of your thigh, lingering there a few seconds too long until he quickly grabs his hand away, bringing it back to the steering wheel hurriedly like his hand is on fire.

“Shit. Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t mean to, well. Put my hand on ya,” he says hurriedly, apologizing in a quick breath.

“It’s okay…” you say slowly, still catching your breath from what just happened.

He lets out a drawn sigh as he takes his right hand and runs it through his tousled curls, looking like he’s in pain or fighting off something deep in his mind. He slowly brings his hand back down and barely grazes the steering wheel. He slowly flexes and extends his hand, the same hand he touched you with. It’s like he just pulled his hand from boiling water, like your thigh ignited something in him. Something hot and tempting…

He brings his hand up and rakes it through his scruff, his eyes in deep thought as his eyebrows furrow together. That touch to your thigh definitely affected him. You can clearly see that. You want to test the waters and bring his hand back down to your burning thigh. Let him trail his fingers up and down your inner thigh as they tease you, as they send slick down your center…

He sighs again before speaking. “Maybe I should just take ya home,” he says undecidedly, his voice right on the edge of shakiness.

Back home? Without going to his house first? No, no, you wouldn’t let that happen. This was your chance. Your one chance to test just where this would go. And you would not go back home without at least trying your luck.

“No,” you say a little too loud, a little too demanding.

“No?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question at the harsh words that came out of your mouth.

“I mean…I just really want to see my guitar. Please?” you beg with a pleading voice, batting your eyelashes with the most innocent expression you can muster up.

Joel does a double take at you with his hand over his mouth, deciding if he should take you home or not, and then he nods in agreement. “Alright, alright. You can come see it,” he sighs.

Yes! You were screaming in silent victory at the win. You had him eating out of the palm of your hand. You just had to play it cool and not get pushy. If he wanted to make a move, then he’d be the one to do it. You wouldn’t push him. The next steps were all on him.

He was driving with one hand now as he leaned on the driver’s side window with his elbow, his hand gently resting under his jaw. He seemed to be lost in thought about something, his eyes pierced with attention on the road. And then it was silent except for the faint hum of the stereo. An uncomfortable silence you’d rather not sit in, so you decide to start up a conversation.

“So, how’s work going?” you ask, hoping it’ll break him of whatever intense trance he’s under.

“Busy, like usual. Got a few clients in this week, so my employees have been busy with those new projects. Have to say that I’ve been a little overwhelmed lately. Been workin’ late a lot. I feel bad cause a lot of the time I come home, Sarah’s already asleep. So I’ve been missin’ time with her. But I just hired a few more employees, so I’m hopin’ I’ll finally work some normal hours and not a ton of overtime like I have been.” He huffs out in annoyance, his forehead creasing into wrinkles as he rakes a hand over his mouth.

Poor Joel. He looks so frustrated, tired even. You slowly reach a hand out and sit it on his shoulder to show your understanding. “Hey, I’m sure Sarah understands. And I’m sorry you’ve been overworked. Hopefully things lighten up and you can get more time at home. I’m sure you’re exhausted. Especially with taking on side projects with my guitar. If I would’ve known, I wouldn’t have asked you,” you say in an apologetic voice, slowly bringing your hand back down to rest in your lap.

“No, it’s okay. I wanted to do that for ya. It’s no problem. I enjoyed working on it. And thank you, for the kind words. You always know just what to say to calm me down.” He looks over at you and gives you a small smile, nodding his head in a thank you.

“Oh, okay. And I try,” you say as you swallow.

You watch him turn on Waterlake Drive as he pulls into your neighborhood. Except you aren’t going home. Not yet anyways. You’re going to his house.

You pass your street and drive four blocks down as you turn on the dimly lit road. Houses aren’t right next to each other as each house has a big yard and their own privacy. Joel turns into his wide driveway and stops the truck, putting it into park.

Joel’s house is a big two story house that has a wraparound porch on the outside with blue shutters on the arched windows. There are two wooden rocking chairs that sit on the porch, and the yard is covered in towering oak trees. It’s a really pretty house, one that’s too big for only two people, but he fills up the space with all his projects that are lying around just waiting for him to finish.

You get out of the truck and slam the white door shut as you hear the beeping noise of Joel locking the truck. He takes out his keys and places the golden house key in the lock as he turns and opens the door.

“C’mon in,” he says as he opens the door for you, waiting for you to pass through.

You step through and make your way down the polished dark, wooden floors. Pictures of Joel and Sarah hang all along the staircase as you pass right by, heading for the living room.

The living room’s done up in tall white walls with pictures of Lake Texoma and wildlife sprawled across the side walls. A huge 70-inch flat screen sits mounted on the middle of the wall and a big cream colored couch sits in the middle of the room with a couple of leather recliners sitting a few feet apart from each other. A small, wooden side table with a luminous lamp sits next to the couch as it shines light throughout the room. And a tall, glass cabinet sits in the corner of the room that’s full of old Rock and Roll albums that both Joel and Sarah collect. It’s really homey, peaceful. You liked coming over here, even though you have only been a couple of times.

“Where’s Sarah at?” you ask, looking around the quiet house.

“She ain’t here. She’s at a friend’s for the weekend,” he responds as he walks back in from the open kitchen.

Oh. So you were all alone with him. In his house.

Fuck.

“Well, have a seat and I’ll go grab your guitar,” Joel says as he exits the room.

You take a seat in the middle of the couch and try to relax, but you’re still flustered from Joel putting his hand on your thigh. It was probably just an accident. You were probably just blowing it all out of proportion, so you needed to calm the hell down. But you’re all alone with him, and that makes heat build in the pit of your stomach.

After a couple of minutes in silence, Joel comes back into the room with your guitar in his hands. He has it flipped to where you can’t see the front of it, keeping it a surprise for you.

“Alright, here it is. Why don’t you take a look.” He flips it around to where you can see it, and you gasp at how stunning it is.

The solid, light spruce guitar looks as if it’s shining. The strings are completely redone, and the narrow neck and body look like they have been resanded to perfection. But what catches your eye the most is the gorgeous, carved etchings in the acoustic guitar that makes patterns of sunflowers all over the bottom half of the guitar. Gold, pink, and orange fill in the flowers and a single hand painted purple butterfly sits at the top, along with a few sparkly swirls around the edges that are all sorts of bright colors.

You walk over to him and place your hand on the guitar, gently running your hand over the smooth etchings of the designs he had made for you.

Holy shit. It was incredible, the most beautiful guitar you had ever seen in your entire life.

Your mouth is agape and your eyes are wide as you take in the beauty that sits in his hands, just waiting for you to play. “Joel…I don’t even know what to say. It’s beautiful. How did you…” You’re completely speechless. You don’t know what to say.

“You like it?” he asks with a hopeful smile, his brown eyes trained on you.

“Like it? I love it!” you shout in glee.

“Good, that’s good. Glad ya do.” He says as he runs a hand through his tousled curls as one stray curl falls over his face.

God, what you would give to run your hands through those smooth curls. You could get lost in them for hours.

“Here, why don’t ya try it out?” he asks as he hands the guitar to you. You gently take the smooth guitar in your hands and walk over to the couch as you sit in the middle, right on the edge. You strum the cords as it’s perfectly tuned. Joel must’ve tuned it for you. That man was so thoughtful, you just couldn’t get enough of him.

“You remember that song I taught you?” he asks as he comes around the couch and stands a few feet away, looking at you as if he’s waiting on something.

“You mean that Nirvana song?” you ask, not exactly recalling the entire song.

“Yeah. Something In the Way. You remember it?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Umm, I think so. It’s been awhile since I played,” you reply honestly.

“Well, go on and try it. I can help ya if you get lost.”

“Right. Okay. Let me see if I remember,” you say as your voice trails off. You get your hands in position and take a deep breath as you line your fingers up just right. You start the song off slow, trying to recall all the notes to play.

You start off strong as you remember the beginning. Joel’s nodding his head in the corner as he watches you, keeping an eye on your fingers as you play. The more he watches you, the more you get nervous. You start to fumble your fingers and mess up the cords as the wrong tune comes out. You’re getting frustrated with yourself that you’re letting your dad’s best friend get you this flustered. It wasn’t fair. What was wrong with you?

“Shit,” you say with a frustrated sigh as you mess up the cords again. You scrunch your brows together and curse under your breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. You just messed up the bridge of the song. Let me show you.” He comes to sit on the couch beside you, so close that his thigh connects with yours as his muscles hug his jeans to him.

He places his left hand on yours as he positions your fingers exactly where they need to be. You bite your lip as his calloused fingers connect with yours, his thick fingers gently guiding you through the bridge. You can’t focus with him this close. He smells like whiskey and pines, a woodsy scent that’s clinging itself to you, making you dizzy from the smell.

You mess up again as you lose focus, only thinking of how good he smells and how delicious he’d taste. You’re starving for him. A hungry lioness that wants to devour her prey. And that prey is Joel.

Your right hand forgets to strum, and you mess up the entire song.

Christ. Get a hold of yourself!

“Sorry, I haven’t practiced in a few weeks. I thought I’d at least remember the entire song. It wasn’t that long ago that I was playing it,” you sigh disheartened.

“You’re doin’ fine, sweetheart. You want me to refresh ya on the song?” he says with deep brown eyes staring you down in question.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” you reply with a more upbeat tone.

“C’mere then.” He scoots his body to the back of the couch and spreads his legs as he grabs your waist and pulls you to him, sitting you down right in between his legs, right against his broad chest. His arms circle you as his hands come down on top of yours, covering them with his calloused fingers burning into yours as he positions them on the strings.

You gasp at the position you’re in. Joel had never taught you like this. Being this close, practically in his lap.

Fuck.

“You wanna go over to C and play these cords together.” He takes your fingers and strums them along the neck of the guitar, guiding your right hand to play some different notes. He takes you through the entire song slowly as he guides your fingers through every note.

“Alright, that’s good. There ya go. A little slower, right there. Good,” he murmurs as his deep breath rumbles from his chest, sending vibrations through your back.

His instructions were always so clear, so crisp as he languidly guides you with his rough hands. He was an excellent teacher, the best you’d ever had. Always so careful, so pristine, so diligent, so attentive…

His hot breath is blowing down your neck as he leans over your shoulder, his lips so painstakingly close to your skin that he could lean over and drag his lips over your neck. He scoots his hips up as he comes closer to you, so close that your back is crushed against his broad chest and his biceps are caging you in as you hold the guitar. His thighs are right up against yours as they gently squeeze your legs, making your breathing pick up at how close he is now.

He’s practically suffocating you with his tight abs and woodsy scent, letting the whiskey get you drunk from his breath breathing down your neck. It’s almost insufferable at how worked up you’re getting over him. You’re agitated, sexually frustrated at how fucking much you want to jump in his lap and pull his lips down to yours. Let him get you drunk off his whiskey taste as his tongue explores your mouth thoroughly.

He dismantles his hands from yours and coaxes you to keep going with a gentle, steady voice. “Now, you try by yourself. See if you can play it back to me.” He lets his hands fall to the sides of the couch as he stays in place, your body tucked into his tightly.

“You want me to play it myself?” you ask with hesitation in your voice.

“Mhm. Go on now. Play it for me,” he repeats.

You take a deep breath and get your hands in place, focusing on the cords. You slowly start playing the Nirvana song as the guitar strums to life. You’re getting the hang of it, finally remembering the right cords to play.

As you get further in the song, Joel sits up straighter and leans forward, his hands moving to his jeans and his lips almost brushing your neck. You keep playing, trying not to get distracted by the handsome man that sits behind you.

You’re closing in on the end of the song, just about a minute more left and then Joel interrupts your concentration. “That’s really good, darlin’. Nice and steady. You’re a fast learner. Think I could teach ya harder, more complicated songs in no time,” he replies with a low voice, making you break your train of focus.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you ask quietly as you continue strumming along lightly, barely picking at the cords.

“Metallica, Bullet for My Valentine, Ghost, all those bands you like,” he lulls as he presses further into you, his lips dangerously close to your skin. You can feel his breath hit your collarbone. That hot, sweltering breath that you want to bask in, burn in.

“I’d like that,” you purr.

“Yeah?” he asks, digging one of his hands into the material of his jeans like he was trying to control himself.

“Yeah,” you reply, still faintly playing the guitar.

Without warning, he lifts his left hand and moves your long, beachy curls out of the way, sweeping them over your left shoulder so he has access to your neck.

He gently slides his nose up the right side of your neck, stopping right before he gets to your earlobe as he breathes in deep. “You smell like citrus and vanilla,” he groans in a deep voice as he moves his right hand to your thigh, resting it gently on the top of it.

Your eyes go wide as his fingers trail up your leg, slowly inching their way to your inner thigh as his fingers flex, running his nails up and down in steady strides, his hand ending just at the cutoff of the denim material, so close that he could lift the edges and dive his hand into darker, wetter regions.

His calloused fingers slowly flex and extend as he gently runs his fingers over your skin, making you want to come absolutely undone right there on the couch. His lips graze your skin as they trail down your neck, barely skimming the surface as you feel just how soft his lips really are. They feel magnetic as he teases you with his lips, not yet fully giving in.

You’re still playing the song, just a few seconds left before it’s over. “Doin’ so good, darlin’. Such a good little guitar player,” he purrs as his lips make contact with your skin, his mouth gently brushing up the side of your neck as you feel him sink down into you, hitting that sensitive spot that drives you crazy.

Fuck.

A wave of slick pools at your center as you squeeze your legs together, a breathless moan getting stuck in your throat. You stop playing, not able to concentrate any longer. Not when his mouth is on your neck and his fingers are pressed against your inner thigh.

“Joel,” you press, your voice coming out as clipped and desperate.

His fingers trail up to the waistband of your jean shorts as he dances his fingers up and down the denim, teasing you like he knows what he’s doing because he does know. He knows damn well what it’s doing to you. He’s working you up nice and slow. Starting that low burn in your stomach as it spreads to your center, down your thighs.

“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he says in a deep, husky voice as he kisss your neck again, his fingers slowly unbuttoning the top button on your jean shorts.

Suddenly the room is too hot, the tension too thick in the air. Your breath is coming in and out like you’re about to hyperventilate and your skin is scorching at his touch. You feel your spine tingling as he grazes his lips against your jawline, his fingers slowly unzipping your shorts, getting ready to take them off.

“Don’t stop, please,” you beg as you move your hips up, slowly setting the guitar to the side as you put your hands on his knees, holding on for dear life.

“Don’t want me to stop? Want me to keep goin’? Want me to show you how else I can use my fingers?” he asks seductively, his voice low as you listen to that melodic tone.

“Yes, please. Show me,” you plead as you bite your lip in anticipation.

“Alright, I’ll show ya. Just ‘cause you asked nicely,” he says as he unzips the zipper all the way and pushes the shorts down your legs, letting them drop to the floor as he trails his fingers up and down your inner thighs, letting you squirm against him as you can’t stand the anticipation any longer.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this. How long I’ve had my eyes on you, you pretty thing,” he groans as he ghosts his hand over your center, lightly tugging at your waistband as he slowly lifts the pink lace up, sticking his thumb inside as it trails across the top, not quite yet to your dripping center where you need him the most.

“And those legs. God, those long, tan legs. So soft, so perfect,” he purrs as he trails his left hand up your thigh, letting his finger gently slide down your clothed center as it causes a hiss to come from your mouth.

“You want this?” he asks as he sinks his right hand lower, finding your slick folds as he barely puts pressure on them.

“Oh, fuck. Yes,” you groan out as you try to spread your legs further apart, your center desperate for some relief.

“Mmmm, thought so,” he murmurs, a thick, heavy breath coming from his throat.

He puts more pressure on your center and spreads your folds as he circles you slowly. You can hear the sloshing and sticky noises from your wetness and it’s making you so much more turned on, making you feral for his touch.

“Goddamn, you’re wet, darlin’. All this for me?” he asks with a smirk as he uses his other hand to slowly slide your ruined underwear to the floor, leaving you completely bare on the bottom.

He takes a good look at you as he spreads your legs over his thighs and opens you wider, exposing your dripping cunt that’s at complete mercy to Joel’s hands.

“Fuck, you’re pretty, baby,” he growls as he runs his hands up further and catches your clit as he puts more pressure into it. Circling nice and slow, building up that arousal and heat that threatens to make you come undone in just a matter of time.

“Oh, God,” you moan as you grip his thighs and dig your fingers into his jeans as you lean your back into him, his lips skimming down your jaw as he works at your clit meticulously. Feeding your arousal that’s pooling all around you as another wave of slick washes down your thighs.

“That’s it, darlin’. Gonna show ya exactly how a man should get a woman off. Want you to scream my name by the time I have you comin’. Gonna show you just how good your daddy’s best friend can finger fuck you,” he growls, a low guttural sound coming from deep in his throat. It’s primal and territorial. He’s claiming what’s his. And it’s you. And it’s hot as hell.

You let out a breathy moan as he plunges two fingers into your dripping cunt as he works hard and fast at sliding his fingers in and out of you. Up and down, back and forth as the sounds of slick and wet fingers connect, causing you to buck up your hips at the building sensation. You’re already so close and you can’t take much more. It’s too much. He’s too much.

He presss a hand down on your hips and clicks his tongue, locking you in with his grip so you’re unable to move. “You stay in place, sweetheart. I’m not lettin’ you get away just yet. You’re so close, I can feel it. The way you’re arching your back and tightening your pretty cunt around my fingers. You’re almost there, and I’m gonna make you come hard, understand?” he asks in a low, raspy voice as you feel his bulging erection growing in his jeans as you push back against it.

“Yes. Please, Joel,” you beg as you lay your head against his shoulder, looking up at the now blown out black pits of his eyes as he stares down at you with a devilish smirk on his face.

“Please what?” he smiles down, his smirk playing across the side of his mouth, making him look handsome as hell.

“Make me come,” you whisper out of breath.

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.”

He takes his thumb and presses down on the most sensitive spot of your clit as his index and middle fingers work at your insides, pumping in and out as the wet, sloshing noises get louder.

Your legs start to shake as he circles and circles your clit, rubbing faster and harder as your breathing picks up and a hot, burning sensation is right at the edge of spilling over. The room gets heavier and thicker as the gasping moans and heat intertwine together, making a muggy room of desire and seduction.

Your legs are shaking so much that Joel has to hook your right leg under his as his left hand holds your other one down. He’s going to make you ride out this orgasm whether you can handle it or not. The sensation is overbearing as you feel your walls start to spasm as they squeeze around his thick fingers that pump in and out of you.

“Joel, I can’t…I’m so…I’m almost…” you moan in quick, shaky breaths. Barely able to hang on any longer.

“C’mon, baby. Let go. That’s it. Want you to be a good girl and come on my fingers. Come on, almost there,” he coaxes as he speeds up his fingers and plunges deep into the spongy spot of your walls, pressing firmly on your clit in just the right spot.

You feel your insides clench up one more time around his fingers as white, hot heat fills your entire body and then your walls go slack as you feel yourself release hot liquid all over his fingers. You let your eyes roll back as you moan his name loud as the liquid continues to drip down your center and covers the inside of your thighs.

“There ya go. Such a good girl,” he purrs, his eyes bleeding into yours as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

It’s like you’re hypnotized, in a daze the way your body feels like it’s floating as Joel works you through your intense orgasm, his fingers slowly fucking up inside you as he makes sure he gets every drop of slick inside you that he can.

He takes his other arm and gently runs it up and down your thigh, easing you from your orgasm as you slowly come back to earth. He gently uncurls his fingers from inside you and brings them up to his mouth, lapping up the slick on his fingers as your eyes go wide at the provocative action. He gently runs his other hand down your arm in a comforting way and then slowly unlatches your legs from his grip.

“That was incredible…” you express with blown out pupils, your heart racing a thousand miles per hour as you sink all your weight into his chest.

Joel laughs as he pulls you into his lap and caresses your cheek, slowly pushing a strand of hair behind your ear in an affectionate way. He was being so careful with you, so gentle. You felt so safe and secure in his strong arms. It was nothing like you’d felt before with a man. Joel was one of a kind.

“Glad I could make ya feel good,” he laughs as a gentle smile curls up at his lips, his dark eyes hovering over you as his lips are just inches from yours. You want to taste them, see how good they feel on yours.

“I didn’t think…I didn’t know you were into me,” you answer quietly as you stare up at him, waiting for a reply.

He furrows his eyebrows and flexes his jaw before he speaks. “Sweetheart, I’ve liked you for quite some time now. Just didn’t know how to go about it with your dad being my best friend and all.” He sighs and lets his head drop back against the couch as he takes you with him. He rakes a hand through his messy curls and looks back up at you with another sigh. “Your father would kill me if he knew I just finger fucked his daughter.”

“He doesn’t have to know. It’s our own little secret,” you snicker as you lean your head on his chest. “Joel, I’ve liked you a long time. A very long time. I just thought you were off limits.” You shrug as you relax back into him as his arms pull you in and keep you warm.

“I mean technically I should be off limits, but…” He trails off and doesn’t finish his sentence as his eyes are in a far away place.

“But what?” You shake him out of his trance as he comes back down to reality.

“But…I can’t leave you alone now. Not after this,” he gestures to the mess on the couch that you made. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine now. And I don’t intend on sharing,” he growls as his dark eyes penetrate your gaze, sinking deep into you, awakening something that had been dormant till you met him.

Mine? Oh. You liked the sound of that. A lot. And it was possessive, dominant, making you hungry for more of him, needing more of him.

“Then don’t,” you breathe out in a quiet voice, your eyes intently locked on his.

He looks into your eyes with those desperate, needy honey eyes of his and then looks down at your lips, repeating the sequence a couple more times before he cups your chin and brings you in close. He presses his lips to yours as his large hands cup your face. It’s slow, romantic, everything you hoped it would be.

The kiss deepens as you part your lips and invite him in. He slides his tongue in your mouth and collides into yours as he slowly swirls and massages your tongue with his. His lips are so soft and large, feeling like they’re made just for you. And his taste.

God, he tastes so good. You can taste the hint of hazelnut coffee, a drop of whiskey, and maybe a taste of honey as his tongue invades your mouth in all the right places.

You moan into his mouth as he kisses you deeper, faster, more desperate as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls at just the right pressure. It feels good. Like he’s being dominant with you but also soft, the perfect combination.

You push your body up as you straddle his lap, feeling that tight bulge in his pants as you start to unbuckle his leather belt, desperate to get your hands on him. He puts a strong hand around your wrist and stops you before you can go any further.

“And what do ya think you’re doin’?” he asks as he lifts an eyebrow, a small smile hiding behind his serious gaze.

“I just wanted to make you feel good too,” you confess, giving him the best smirk you can muster up.

“Is that so?” he asks with a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Mhm,” you hum, using your free hand to push his broad chest back into the soft couch.

“Hmmm. Alright then, darlin’. Show me.” He lets go of your wrist and lets you pull the belt loose from his dark jeans. You slowly unzip the zipper but before you can pull down his pants, he stops you again as he cups your chin and lifts your head to look into his eyes.

“On your knees,” he growls dominantly as his eyes turn from soft brown to dark black pits as his pupils expand.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you reply automatically without thinking as you drop to the soft rug, getting on your knees as you place your hands on his muscular thighs.

“Just Joel, darlin’,” he reminds you. “Now, be a good girl and show me how good you can suck this cock.”

He stares down at you with seductive eyes and a large smirk painted across his face. He looks so goddamn pretty. And the way his plaid sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that cover his arms is making you even more turned on.

You waste no time and pull down his jeans and then his black briefs, freeing his erection from the combines of his pants. It plants firmly against his stomach, and you gasp at just how large he is.

Holy shit. He’s massive.

You gulp and scoot up to the edge of the couch as you bring your hand around his thick width. You start sliding your hand up and down his large length, watching as the veins in his cock wrap around him, feeling the coarse, wiry hair that blankets around the base of him, transfixed on just how big he is.

You bring your head down and slowly lick the tip as you let your tongue swirl around all his sensitive spots, still using your hand to slide up and down him as precum bubbles over the edge. You savour the taste of him as you let the salty flavor run down your throat all hot and sticky like. You lick the tip again, this time looking at him seductively under your long eyelashes as you let your hand work up and down his largeness.

“Fuck,” he moans under his breath as you stare up at him, his black pupils blown out as he watches you devour him inch by inch.

You test your limits and take him further into your mouth, going down as far as you can until you gag on him, slowly coming back up for air before you go back down again.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty sucking my cock, darlin’,” he groans as a grabs the back of your hair as you go down on him again, this time taking him deeper, going past your limits. You choke on him as you feel your throat constrict around his length, feeling just how thick he is as the salty taste runs down your throat like warm cider.

He fists your hair and works you up and down him as you gag and choke on his delicious cock. Your eyes water as you feel saliva pool in your mouth and run down your chin as he takes you as far as you can go, speeding up his actions as he fucks your mouth over and over again. Up and down, deeper and deeper. Driving you fucking crazy.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growls, sending a wave of slick between your legs as you continue deep throating him.

He loves every second of it, and you love it just as much as he does. You love feeling his cock slide in and out of your mouth, love tasting him, love the way his eyebrows furrow together and the deep, breathless moans he makes from his throat as you make him come to life. And you love how possessive he gets with it. It’s so fucking hot. You revel in making him yours, making him want you, making him feel like he’s the most special man in the world, because he is. He’s so special, and now he’s yours. All yours.

He deep throats you one more time as he hits the back of your throat, making you audibly gag around him as your throat closes up around him, squeezing him as your saliva encases his thick cock.

“Goddamn!” he moans loudly as he pulls out of your throat as the saliva sticks to the end of his hard cock, running a trail of glistening saliva from his tip to your chin as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You miss one as it runs down your face.

Joel leans forward and catches it, wiping it away with his thumb as he cleans the saliva from your chin, making sure you don’t have a spot left on your face.

“You didn’t come,” you say quietly, unsure of why he stopped you.

He bites his bottom lip before answering you back. “I know, darlin’. That’s ’cause I’m not done with you yet.” His eyes turn into deep black pits again as he yanks you up from the floor and straddles you across his lap, the tip of his cock just inches from your weeping entrance as you’re soaked with arousal.

“Want you to ride me, sweetheart. Now get on top of me,” he instructs. He lifts your hips as he moves the tip of his cock to your drenched entrance, just barely slipping in, waiting for you to go down.

“Lower for me,” he demands, his voice raspy and deep. You slowly lower yourself down on him as he presses up deeper into you, expanding your walls right to the point of pain. You wince but keep your face controlled as you start to ride him nice and slow, feeling just how thick he is as you squeeze him, starting to move faster as you go up and down, up and down. Feeling every single flutter that your walls make as his large length caves inside you.

You groan and press your forehead against his as you straddle and ride him, digging your thighs into his sides as he grabs the back of your ass and squeezes, sending slick running down your center. The room starts to grow too hot, the stickiness and humidity mixing in with your fully aroused state. You can feel your hair stick to your face as the sweat shimmers across your forehead. You speed up the intensity, feeling every single detail of his cock as he rams up inside you time and time again. Making you nearly drown in your own slick.

“Fuck,” you groan as you continue riding him, building up that sweet orgasm that’s about to be set free. The sticky, slick noise from him sliding in and out of you is too much. He’s too much, too sexy, too fucking good for you. You need a release, you need to come. This was too much. “Joellllll,” you moan as you draw out the last syllable of his name, begging for him to make you come.

“That’s it, darlin’. Taking me so fucking good like the good girl you are. You’re almost there. I can feel it,” he says seductively, making you bite your lip at how sexy his bedroom voice is. It’s low, deep, provocative. A noise that could make you come just at the sound of. He’s electric.

“Want some assistance, darlin’?” he asks with low, drawn out words. Setting your insides on fire.

“Mhmm,” you hum out, trying your best to keep yourself in one piece.

He grabs the back of your hair and pulls you to his mouth as he devours you, biting your lower lip and shoving his tongue inside your mouth as he twirls around yours, setting your taste buds on fire. Drowning in his coffee and whiskey taste, wanting to drink him down until you can’t taste anything except him. Only him.

He takes control and places his hands on your hips as he bucks up inside you, thrusting deeper and deeper until he’s bottoming out, hitting you so deep that you swear you start seeing stars.

You place your hands around his neck and hold tight, your fingers wrapping around the curls that reach the back of his head as you claw at him, running your nails through his scalp. He moans at the sensation and continues plunging into you with his massiveness taking over you entirely, feeling every vibration through your body as you’re on cloud nine. You’re almost there, almost…

“You on birth control?” he asks with gritted teeth, a low growl leaving his throat as he thrusts inside you, sinking his nails into your sides.

“Mhm,” you choke out a moan, barely able to answer.

“Mmmm that’s good. Real good. Gonna spill all inside ya then. Is that what you want, darlin’? Want my cum inside that pretty pussy?” he asks with a gritted, clipped tone that’s full of arousal.

“Yes, please. Fuck,” you moan as he places his thumb on the throbbing bud of your clit, pressing just enough to pull that building orgasm out of you as you clench around his thick cock and feel white, hot heat slide over you.

You throw your head back and moan his name, feeling yourself unclench from him as you spill all down his long length. You feel your fingertips go tingly, the sensation making its way all the way down to your toes as they curl, feeling your heart speed up as the palpitations set in. It’s the most intense orgasm you ever had in your entire life, and you know then that you will never be able to get Joel out of your head. You’re hooked like a shot of espresso. Needing to consume it every day to be able to function properly. He’s like a drug. Nightshade. Deadly but intoxicating, a taste you can’t resist. A taste you crave, want, desire.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Your face is so fucking pretty when you cum, when you’re saying my name,” he growls as he emphasizes the my. Making it sound like you belonged to him now. And fuck you want that more than anything.

He thrusts inside you faster, harder as he knits his eyebrows together, getting caught in deep concentration as his breaths become ragged, unhinged. “You’re so tight, feels so good inside ya. You’re squeezing me so hard. Goddamn, you pretty thing,” he groans as he digs his fingers into your hips, pounding once, twice, three more times before he holds you down on his thighs and rolls his eyes up to look into yours with those black pits staring up at you hungrily.

He opens his mouth and moans as he spills his cum inside you. You feel the sticky, hot mess coat your walls as he thrusts once more, getting his fill of you entirely. Your breathing is rough and winded as you chase down your high from the intense fucking.

He keeps you there, staying inside you for just a few minutes as you both collect your breath and just stare at each other, taking in each other’s ecstasy and heat as the tension doesn’t disperse from the room. It stays like a hot, summer day with the humidity intensifying. It’s like you’re in the middle of a rainforest. It’s so hot, so suffocating, so muggy. And you can see that you’re caught in the middle of a hard spot. Alone with the stalking panther that wants to eat you alive. And that panther is Joel. He catches you, and now you’re all his for the taking. A complete menace at best.

He finally slides out of you as you feel his seed start to drip from you as it drops against his thighs, mixing in with the sweat and lust from each other. He falls to his back on the couch and brings you with him as he pulls you into his arms and brings your legs over his as he gently drags his fingers up and down them, soothing you from the hot cardio you had just taken part in.

“Fuck,” he says in a deep voice as he kisses the top of your head and brings his hand under your chin, lifting it so he can look into your eyes. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby. And your eyes. They’re so beautiful, they’re practically sparkling for me right now, just like diamonds.” Your breath catches as he gazes over you, admiring your beauty and charm as he caresses your cheek affectionately.

Oh, God. You’re in trouble. You’re falling hard and fast for your dad’s best friend. What a mess.

“Joel,” you say with admiration as you rake your fingers through his salt and pepper scruff, acquiring a slight groan from deep in his throat from the light touch. “I like you. A lot,” you breathe as you hold back tears from streaming over. You don’t want this to be over. It couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it be.

“Oh, darlin’. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. To have you, to hold you, to feel just how soft your skin really was. Been holdin’ back a long time. But something snapped in me tonight. When I saw you with that guy. I wanted to wring his fucking neck,” he spits as his eyes go cold. You gasp at the intensity of him. Of his words. He really does like you. This is real, it’s all real. And you just can’t believe it.

You run your hand down his broad chest as he pulls you closer, and you lean into him as your head rests on his chest, feeling every ragged breath go in and out as his chest rises and falls in waves.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to leave you alone now, darlin’. Not after this,” he says, holding you tight as he strokes your cheek, pulling back another strand of hair behind your ear softly.

“Then don’t,” you breathe, hope filling your gut as you cling to his bulky, tight arms.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he plays with your soft curls, running his hand through your hair gently as it sends a wave of warmth and serotonin over you, completely calming you of any anxiety. “I don’t intend to, darlin’. You’re all mine,” he coos.

Mine. There it was again. You were his and it felt so right.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” he hums as the vibrations in his chest reverberate around you like a thunderstorm but calming you entirely.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” you ask in a quiet, meek voice.

“‘Course, sweetheart. I wasn’t planning on takin’ ya home. Not after this. You’re stayin’ with me.” He cups your chin and slowly brings his lips down on yours as you drink him in nice and slow, fully embracing the taste of him that was now a part of you.

When you finally break apart, you look up at him with a worried look on your face, your anxiety returning in full force like a galloping horse about to collide with another.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows and soft brown eyes that are searching your face, trying to find what was wrong.

“My dad….what if he somehow finds out that we…what if…”

He puts his thumb on your lips and hushes you, a gentle soothing sound coming from his mouth. “We can worry about that another day. He ain’t gonna find out,” he reassures you.

The unsettled feeling dwells in the pit of your stomach, and the worried expression doesn’t leave your face as you continue looking at him. A tear threatening to pool at the corner of your eye, but you hold it in. Not wanting to worry Joel with your anxious thoughts.

“Hey, you trust me?” he asks as he looks deep in your eyes, his brown eyes honing in like a hawk.

“Yes, of course,” you nod.

He takes your hand in his as he clasps his thick fingers around yours. “Then believe me when I say this will work out. I’m not lettin’ ya go, darlin’. I’m gonna make sure your daddy doesn’t find out. He ain’t gonna suspect a thing.”

You nod up at him, slowly pulling yourself back together. “Okay,” you agree.

“Alright. Now, let’s go get you cleaned up in the shower and get ya to bed. You must be exhausted,” he says as he pulls you up from the couch, picking you up bridal style and carrying you up the stairs to his bathroom.

After the warm shower, you get right in his bed with him. Wrapped up in his strong arms with one of his large plaid shirts hugging your body as you breathe in his pine and woodsy scent, enveloping yourself entirely in him as you memorize exactly what he smells like. Wanting to remember this moment as the best night of your life.

You fall asleep shortly as you listen to the faint sound of his breathing as you lay against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. And that night you only dream of brown eyes, broad arms, thick fingers, and wet, sticky sensations. But one thing still clings to the back of your mind as you dream of Joel. Just one thing that you can’t quite shake as it interrupts your sweet, wet dreams of Joel. And that one thing is your dad.

Fuck. You just had mind blowing sex with your daddy’s best friend.

Tags: @janaispunk @studioghibelli @cinnamongorll @callmecath1 @joelalorian @dugiioh @ladamari68 @amyispxnk @pedrostories @tuquoquebrute

Part 2

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 month

Text

Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

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inlovewithpandora · 8 months

Text

- Party Girl -

Pairing: Protective!Miles!42 x fem!drunk!reader

Request: [ anonymous ] Protective 42 Miles when his girl calls him high or drunk (she's at a party and he didn't know) so he goes to pick her up and some dude is trying to get at her?

Synopsis: When Miles gets a post notification that you posted something on your story he assumes it’s a selfie of you but that idea flies out the window when he sees a bottle of alcohol in your hand.

Content: Aged!up Miles, fluff, angst (if you squint hard enough), established relationship (bf & gf), mention of alcohol/drinking, reader being under the influence

Author’s Note: Thank you for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations! This was a really good request and I enjoyed writing it because I’ve been wanting to write drunk!reader for a while. Let me know what you think by sending an anonymous ask or comment if you feel comfortable!

Word Count: 1.1k

Glossary: Princesa - Princess

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!

Links: Navigation || Atsv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

As Miles lays across his bed, closing the text thread with one of his friends, he gets a notification from Instagram saying that you added something to your story. He assumes it’s one of your normal posts, a boomerang of yourself, a picture of you and him, or a daily quote with a song playing, but when he opens your story, it turns out to surprisingly be the complete opposite.

It is a picture of a bottle of Pink Whitney in your hand. His face scrunches up at the sight, wondering why you have a bottle of alcohol. He clicks over to see what else you’ve posted and he’s met with the sight of you pouring the bottle of alcohol into your mouth and his ears are filled with the sound of your friends cheering you on and loud music playing in the background.

To say Miles was baffled would be an understatement. You’ve never been a person who liked to drink or party, you would always rather stay home or invite Miles over so both of you could spend time together, thus to see this side of you, he’s caught him off guard. He immediately goes to your text thread and his fingers begin to rapidly type away.

—

Watching your friends dance with each other while pouring yourself another drink for the night, you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You reach for your phone and check your messages.

You forgot that you didn’t tell Miles that you were coming to the party since your friends told you about it so last minute. You put your cup down and try to text him back, but you can barely see the words let alone coordinate your fingers properly to type out the sentence you want, so you decide to call him.

Once you press the call button, it only rings one time before you hear Miles' voice. “Princesa, are you okay?” He asks, making sure that you are okay before he starts bombarding you with different questions.

“I’m fine, baby! I’m just-” you hiccup, “having fun!” He can tell that you are drunk by your slurring words and the slowed pace you are talking in. As you try to focus on hearing Miles talking, your attention span plummets and you begin to hype up your friend.

Miles knows the alcohol is coursing through your veins and is making you zone out and he’s trying his best to be patient and keep your focus on him so he could figure out where you are.

“Bae, I need you to focus and tell me-” He starts carefully before you interrupt him. “You know you didn’t tell me hi when you picked up the phone, that’s so rude, Miles. You didn’t say it in your texts either.”

“My fault. Hey, baby. Now can you please tell me where you are?”

“If you say it a little nicer I’ll tell you where I’m at.” You say in a singsong tone which makes Miles groan under his breath and rub his temples. After he says it in a tone you approve of, you finally proceed to tell him the address of the party you’re at.

He immediately gets out of bed, puts his shoes on, grabs his keys, and makes his way out of the door.

“I’m coming to pick you up, okay? I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” Miles gets in his car, puts his key in the ignition, and drives to where you are.

All in while you decide to take at least one last shot before he comes and spoils your fun.

—

When Miles pulls up to the house, he jumps out his car and walks into the party. He looks around but doesn’t locate you which makes him worry. He begins to barge through the crowd of people, trying to find you. His eyes scan the whole room and he doesn’t see you in the front, but he gets to hear your voice.

“I’m so-sorry, but I have a boyfriend that kills people.” You say in a giggly tone with slurred words as you talk to some random guy who has been asking for your number for the past few minutes.

“I don’t care about him, all I want is yo digits.” The guy presses you, pulling out his phone and handing it to you so you could type your number into it.

When Miles sees that his blood boils. He knows that the guy is trying to take advantage of you because you are under the influence. He immediately marches over to where you are and pulls you away from the guy.

“You heard what the fuck she said, she has a boyfriend.” Miles towers over the guy, yelling and pointing at him, making some threats just to make sure his point gets across that you’re taken and that he needs to leave you alone.

When the guy hears the bass in Miles’s voice and watches how his eyes slowly turn pitch black, he stutters out an apology and walks away. You just stand behind Miles, not paying attention or aware of anything that is going on until you feel him gently pull you by your arm.

“Miles! You’re here, I missed you!” You plant millions of messy kisses on his face before throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him. He is about to ask if you are okay, but by that greeting, he already knows you are totally fine.

“Let’s go home princesa and then you can tell me all about your night.” He grabs your hand and begins to escort you out of the party, but along the way your feet get wobbly due to the heels you're wearing. You let go of his hand and begin to fumble with the strings of your heels so you can take them off. However due to the alcohol, your hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.

Miles notices you struggling, so he decides to pick you up bridal style and walk out. The walking distance between the party to his car is short, but it gives you enough time to fall asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest and your small snores ringing through his ears.

Once he makes it to the car, he somehow manages to open the door and carefully place you inside without waking you up. He closes the door gently and walks to the driver's side and gets in. When he places the key into the ignition, he looks over at you and thinks about how he can’t get over how adorable you look sleeping. He leans over and kisses your forehead then begins driving to your apartment.

He knows that he is going to have plenty of questions for you in the morning, but for tonight he is going to let you sleep the alcohol out of your system.

I hope you enjoyed❤️!

Previous Fic

Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon

Taglist: @toneystank-3000 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @baizzhu @solanawrld @kxllanxtdoor @kxtsxkii @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @naiomiwinchester @number1gal @spidersthetic @taylormarieee @h3art-l3ss @mellagzz @em-x0 @3zae-zae3 @khamanix @miguellover6969 @beargracecanbeanyone @strawberryclouds22 @ban-al3x @starsharkz @onginlove @kxllanxtdoor @lorarri

#❖ — 🕸️: 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑴𝒀 𝑱𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑨𝑵’𝑺?.!#❖ — 🕷️: 𝑰𝑻’𝑺 𝑨 𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑨𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑴.!#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x you #miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles #atsv miles #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #spiderman atsv #atsv x black reader #astv x fem!reader #astv x reader

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soraviie · 11 months

Text

being given a hickey.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: fluff, some hints of angst and some suggestive hints

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ leave behind a comment and reblog or your every drink will always be at the wrong temperature

NAMJOON | The evening crawls by slowly. The setting of the orange sun bathes the apartment in bright, warm light before it’s inevitably replaced by the overhead lights. You shuffle around in your peace, alternating between cooking and cleaning up the dishes and though there is a vague sound of demo song rolling from Namjoon’s home office, you ignore it at first, having been subjected to much of his releases over the years. However, once the TV show you’ve been passively watching becomes too boring to endure any longer, you paddle towards the closed doors. Namjoon sits slunken back into the chair, wearing a deeply etched frown upon his face.

You poke a head into his makeshift studio, nose wrinkling at the smell of the stale air.

“Hey, Namu,” you call out, an unassuming lilt to your voice. “You coming to bed?”

He turns round, appearing a bit dazed as though he’d forgotten there was anything else outside the studio. You don't entirely put it past him. Namjoon takes a gander at you then at the small window facing the darkened outside, grimacing at the fall of the night.

“Yeah,” he drags out tiredly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright. I cooked some dinner. The leftovers are in the fridge if you want them.”

Something about the sentence upsets him as the ends of his mouth draw downward and just a second after his hand beckons to come closer. You do so, slightly confused at the sudden request of proximity. Without saying anything, Namjoon wraps a hand around your lower waist, hoisting you up his lap, chair giving out a pitiful squeak underneath the combined weight.

“It seems that I have neglected you tonight,” he mutters, voice falling dangerously low. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s alright,” you brush off, trying not to stroke his ego too much. Your heart might still be fluttering as his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face but god help he did not need to get any more complacent.

“It ain’t,” Namjoon shakes his head grimly. “Come here.”

He leans in with dead set eyes and you close your own, wholly convinced on receiving a kiss on the mouth but instead you feel his plush lips press up against a point just below your jaw and the subsequent teasing scrape of his teeth.

Your mouth falls open in a shuddery “oh” and Namjoon takes a deep inhale, smile noticeably curving against your slowly bruising skin.

He pulls away, letting you — a bit dazed, a bit stupid — off his lap where you come to stand shakily on the carpet.

“Run along,” he chuckles somewhat insidiously, clearly taking some amusement in your befuddled state. You huff, flipping him off in the rising frustration but you both know it’s all without bite.

YOONGI | “Yoongi—”

“Five more minutes.”

Briefly you think of arguing but sensing how despairingly his fingers dig into your sides, you relent with a heavy sigh on the lips and a complicit turn of the head.

“Good,” you hear him hum appreciatively, vibrations rolling against the blackened column of your throat.

“What’s with you, old man? Mid life crisis?” you grouse but it is graciously ignored. A hefty scent of whiskey wafts from his greedy mouth as it’s pressed time and time again, teeth and all, against your skin. Figures that the grandpa has to be drunk to wrangle you so shamelessly. You sit perched on his lap, confined there by his arms, having nothing to stare at but each individual detail of the living room’s wallpaper. It’s soullessly grey —you’d whined to him about it needing to be changed. Suddenly a sharp pain flares against the muscle in your neck and you let your discontent be known.

“Ow! Yoongi!”

Sinking your fingers into his hair, you pull harshly on the dark locks, instantly feeling some resistance.

“Jus’ a bit more,” he mutters lowly, pulling you closer, impossibly closer, as any second now you swear you’d melt into one another. Finally with a wet pop, he unlatches himself away, wiping the remaining saliva with the sleeve of his jumper. Possessing a slight yet somewhat understandable tremor in the knees, you sit back on his calves, feeling the muscle grow taut underneath.

“May I go now?” you inquire tiredly, recalling the bowl of batter that was forcefully abandoned on the kitchen counter. Yoongi looks up at you with hooded eyes and reflected in them is the whole mass of everything he felt but found too difficult to say out loud. And yet that just made you love him all the more. He seems to be enthralled by some deep passing thought and after a moment of consideration, there comes a clear answer.

“No, I shouldn’t think so.”

JIN | At most it was ten minutes. What with the recipe being something so crude as "toss the eggs into a pan" one wouldn’t expect more than that but then again one wouldn’t expect the hump attached to your back.

“You’re hampering with my breakfast,” you give a low hiss of warning but the sack only tightens his grubby hands around your waist.

“‘s not that important,” he mutters into the crook of your neck, the motions leaving a wet imprint upon your chin.

“Not that important,” you scoff. “You’re the one who woke me up saying you were hungry.”

“Not for food.”

You halt for a second.

“Leave.”

“Always so cold-hearted,” Jin whines, voice falling quite offended as he fondles the flesh underneath his warm palm. “You know how many people would kill to be where you are?”

“Then let them,” carelessly, you try to fight his grasp, having half the mind to just smack him with the spatula. “I want my fucking breakfast!”

“Me too!”

“Not like that!”

And then you feel it — unmistakable, intrusive — the literal biting sensation of his teeth meeting your neck. Your heart jumps in your throat and you hate the fact that even after all this time he has this much power over you.

The spatula comes soon after.

“OW!” in trying to evade the hit, Jin unclamps his jaws from your neck with a bothersome sound. Immediately, your hand darts to the sore spot, wiping off the saliva with perhaps too feigned of a disgust marring your features.

“No eggs for you,” you grumble but from the shit-eating grin lighting up his entire face, it’s not hard to guess that Jin didn’t give much of a shit.

HOSEOK | Drowsily moving the toothbrush along the inside of your mouth through the haze of sleep you examine the hues of purple alongside your lower neck and shoulders. One particular mark piques your curiosity and after spitting out the toothpaste, you lean towards the mirror, poking a nail at the darkest of bruises, marveling at the dent reminiscent of moon’s sickle.

“Good morning,” Hoseok’s gravelly voice can be heard in the doorway, before he enters the room, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your head.

“What was with you yesterday?” you ask, hoping that the literal light of the morning will shed some insight on the proverbial dark.

“What do you mean?” Hoseok furrows his brow but once you point at the formed bruises, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothes out.

“Oh right,” you hear him whisper to himself before reaching into one of the closed cabinets. He quirks his head to the closed lid of the toilet and with a sigh, you sit down upon it, shivering slightly in the morning cold.

Hoseok misinterprets this and bids a quick though heartfelt apology.

“No, it’s not what I meant,” you rush to shake your head as Hoseok continues to slather the numbing cream onto your battered skin. “You just…I don’t know seemed somehow different yesterday.”

His lips purse together in a thin line whilst his gaze traces the dark spots with a thoughtful glare.

“I was in my head,” he finally admits somewhat sourly. “I was scared, you know, of you…forgetting me.”

“Oh, Hoseok…”

“No, don’t pity me,” he interrupts wearing an expression of hidden grief. “Just…don’t forget me.”

You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of such a plea. Like you ever could.

“I won’t,” you promise, reaching to wrap your hand around his that was still applying some lotion. He gives a gentle smile hearing it, before letting out a demure chuckle.

“And I promise to use my words instead of teeth.”

JIMIN | Because you so amicably ignored his first over-exaggerated huff of irritation, Jimin doubles down and after leaning up right next to your ear he takes a deep breath and then exhales with a loud noise of pointed discontent.

“If you’re going to be annoying, why did you want to come along?” you try to pry him off your shoulder with a shrug of the shoulder but Jimin being Jimin remains one obstinate cuddle bug.

“I thought you’d be quicker with it,” he whines, casting a damning glare towards the pair of joggers held in your hand as though they were the ones at blame.

“Well, you’re not exactly of help here,” you remark in a hushed tone as a pair of giggling schoolgirls pass too near. “You just say everything looks good to make me leave quicker.”

“You do look good in everything!” he cries out with a pout chockful with objection and though you shush him, glimpsing nervously around if everyone’s watching too near, his voice drops in volume but not in its offended quality. “Even if it’s not your style,” he continues his point.

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you hiss, delivering an elbow to his ribs, eyes already scouring something good in the discount pile of the in-between season sales. Your heart goes out to the workers — it was a battlefield.

“I’m hungry,” a voice whispers in the shell of your ear, prompting long lines of goosebumps despite you wholly knowing who it was.

“Then go eat.”

“How dare you! We eat together, that's a rule!”

“We’re not kindergarteners! I don’t need to hold your hand as you eat.”

“Speak for yourself,” bitterly, Jimin mutters underneath the breath before he gains a curious idea, one that warps his mouth into a sly smile.

“Let’s go,” Jimin whines, leaning his full weight against your side. His lips come to nip at the side of your neck and you groan feeling the familiar sting of his impatient pecks. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you something tomorrow.”

“Ease up, Park,” you warn him, fruitlessly trying to shoo him away. The top of his hair itches the sides of your cheeks and you stifle the smile threatening to break out.

“Let’s gooooo.”

“Nooooo.”

He leans back, narrowing his eyes in a stormy expression before leaning in one final time - this one grasping a much larger area of the thin skin of your neck before passing it under his teeth.

“OW!” you cry out, quickly reaching to cradle the sore spot. Right under the side of your jaw. You swat at him lightly, forming a pout yourself but imperiously, Jimin only turns up his nose, though the arc of his smile betrays him in the end.

TAEHYUNG | “Your hand is sweaty.”

He immediately pulls away with a demure “sorry” under breath.

“I didn’t mean “let go”,” you grouse.

Peeking at Taehyung from the corner of the eye — it’s unmistakable. The way his gaze flits from one passerby to the next, the rhythmical gnawing of his jaw — a futile way to expel stress — he was nervous.

“Why are you worried?” you inquire gently, slowly moving through the bustle of the celebrating crowd. A national holiday — it was vain to hope you could get from point A to point B without much trouble.

He mumbles something as an answer but it's too incoherent to make out. His eyes move with increasing speed, jumping hurriedly across the moving wall of strangers.

“Let’s move to the side,” you urge and he complies easily with the pull of your hand, honestly appearing too overwhelmed to propose any sort of argument. You press him against the bricked up wall of the nearby cafe, forming a makeshift shield between him and the crowd at large. No one is paying any attention — the flowing bubbles, calls of the nearby vendors, the straying rays of warming sun — all of it is too much for anyone to cast their gaze to the side. You feel Taehyung’s fingers cautiously brush up against yours as if weighing on the thread between good and bad. You grip them back with ardent fervour and it’s not long before he slumps up against your back, head falling down into the crook of the neck.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbles. “I don’t know why so suddenly—”

“Don’t worry,” you hush him, inspecting the crowd for any straying interest though there is none. “Let’s head home and watch something good, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters miserably, his breath tickling along the side of your ear. “I ruined a good day.”

“It’s still a good day,” you correct him, patting the arm that by now has moved on to tightly gripping your waist. “Don’t worry about it.”

Still he lays an apologetic kiss to your nape and seconds after you feel a somewhat shy nip along your throat — it was a comforting tactic for him and recognizing it, you crane your head to allow more access. If anyone does notice you two lingering in the corner, the sight is too intimate to stare. Once the swarming crowd thins out of the main street, disappearing down the more picturesque river, you scrape gently down Taehyung’s scalp, rousing him from whatever zone of comfort he’d sunken into. The side of your neck aches from the force of his bites but you don’t remark upon it. Blearily, Taehyung blinks down at you, a relieved sigh tumbling from his lips as he looks out and sees the street empty.

“Let’s go home,” you urge him softly.

JUNGKOOK | “Does it hurt?” he wonders, letting an inquisitive finger poke at the blossoming bruise. The flesh pales only to regain its full dark glory once the pressure grows lax.

“A little,” you admit quietly, hearing just the end of a vague hum in reply. “Do you feel guilty over it?”

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, admiring his “work” as his gaze drags ever so slowly upon each individual proof of his love. Or so he called them.

“Not really.”

He gives a shameless smile and dives in once more. Even now your breath stutters when feeling the scrape of his front teeth against the sore flesh. Inescapably, he meets the seam of your shirt and with a displeased growl, he yanks it away, leaving you practically bare chested.

You stare hazily into the ceiling of his apartment, listening with the ends of your ears to the soft music swirling the warm air. Jungkook’s curls itch at your nose which is a telltale sign —

“No, don’t,” you protest, giving his bicep a weak squeeze. “I’m tired of wearing turtlenecks.”

Somewhere underneath the mop of unkempt hair there comes a disagreeing hum but resentfully he abides to your wishes, travelling lower and lower, the curve of his nose tip brushing against your collarbone. The last bite is particularly harsh, reminding either you or himself of who's whose. It is a fleeting moment of possession, one necessary to upkeep the balance thus you don’t mind it so. After a good chunk of an hour, Jungkook finally disconnects, leaning back into the cramped sofa with a grin of pure victory. It is however quickly wiped away as Bam decided to make two into three, propelling all of his adult Doberman weight on top of Jungkook's back.

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett (I hope you don't mind)

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tinyluvs · 9 months

Note

AAAAH I LOVE YOUR BLOG SM! May I request for Jealous NSFW Spencer Reid headcanons if that's okay?

thank you!! and you can indeed, enjoy !! *mdni*

he gets physical, shoving you against the wall, hand around your wrists, using his body to hold you in place, leaving you gasping and looking up at him with wide eyes

he's all, "flirting with the fucking waiter, really?" and "think i wouldn't notice you being a little whore right in front of me"

he bends you over any piece of furniture he can find, groping and squeezing at you, "pressed your tits together so hard they nearly fell out your fucking dress"

he forces you to sink to your knees, not caring about the hardwood floor digging while he tilts your head back, "gonna let me fuck your mouth?"

makes you wait for it, letting his cock brush against your lips while you whine and squirm, trying to lean forward but he holds you back at arms length

he uses his tie to bound your hands or he wraps it around the back of your neck and the ends around his fists, using it to pull you forward until the tip of his cock is hitting the back of your throat

you're not allowed to touch yourself !! usually you can when you're sucking him off but he kicks your arms and hands away from you when you try to

he's rough, ripping your clothes apart until you're naked

he fucks you from behind so that you can't kiss him or touch him, shoving your hands away from him every time you try to reach back

"think he would fuck you this well?" and "no one can fill you like i can, can they?" he repeats it, louder and louder until you're crying out a no

he touches you but it's harsh, rushed and overstimulating and he doesn't care when tears start to slip down your face

"little whores don't get to come," he huffs when you start to tighten around him, "should go ask that waiter, see if he'll let you come"

he fucks you like you're a toy, for him and him only, grunting and huffing like it's a chore to fuck you, like he would rather be doing anything else

when he's about to come he pulls out quickly, manhandling your body until you're beneath him, coming over your face with a grunt

smirking when it drips over your lips and chin and smirks even more when he takes a picture of it, flash forcing your eyes to shut

he leaves you painted with his come, thinking he's left to get a towel but he comes back with the picture printed, throwing it in your direction

"you're going back to the restaurant tomorrow," he huffs and when you look at him confused, "gonna show him that picture and i'll be right there, show him who you belong to"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

#❥ my works #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #❥ spencer reid headcanons #❥ spencer reid #❥ my spencer works #❥ spencer reid fic rec

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abbyromanoff · 5 months

Text

CHOKEHOLD

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x bsf’s child!reader

WORD COUNT: 2704

WARNINGS: smut, anal play, kinda dark Emily, manipulation, poorly written smut tbh, innocence kink, possessiveness, fingering, multiple orgasms, Mommy (E), squirting, cnc, somnophillia, R is JJ’s kid, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Love you, Mom. Bye, guys!” Emily watched as you kissed your mom goodbye, the sweet gesture causing her to grin. You waved to the group, walking through the glass door and heading towards the elevator. She knew it was now or never, this was her chance to make her move.

“Alright, I think it’s about time I get home. Why don’t you guys get an early night?” She was usually the last to leave, which is what confused the team. JJ furrowed her brows, spinning in her chair to face the older woman.

“You never go home early, not even on Friday nights.” She noted before a smirk took over her face. “Unless, Emily has somewhere to be.” She teased, causing Garcia to coo as she took a seat next to the blonde. She rolled her eyes, eyeing the clock as she estimated the time of your arrival.

“I didn’t sleep much last night, I’m tired.”

“And why didn’t you sleep much, hm? Were you too busy, say, entertaining other parties?” She flipped the woman off before disappearing past the doors, cursing herself for staying so late before rushing to her car. She started the engine in no time, instantly pulling out of her spot as she followed the coordinates. Her mind never once left you, and she started to worry if she absentmindedly blew a light or took a wrong turn. But she didn’t care, all she wanted was to get home to you.

Her fist came pounding on the wooden door, her gaze falling on every crack and seam that could be used as easy entry, she’d have to warn you about those.

“Em? I, uh, what are you doing here?” You questioned, only to be silenced as she pushed you into your flat, shutting the door behind her while your back hit the cold wall.

“What the fuck, Em-” She cut you off quickly, placing her fingers atop your lips as your breaths became the only sound to fill the room.

“There’s someone after you, and I’m here to protect you.” You furrowed your brows together, kicking away her digit as she towered over you. Her gray hair framed her face, and every line only showed her experience.

“Wha- Why isn’t my mom here, then?” She bit her lip, causing you to repeat yourself. She knew she had to act fast before threatening your trust in her lie.

“They don’t know, okay? Look, you have to trust me-”

“No, I want to know what the fuck is going on.” You pushed, scoffing when she remained silent for far too long. She shoved your shoulders back, forcing you to remain still as she took a moment to admire your expressions in a time of such weakness.

“There’s someone from my past that- that the team doesn’t exactly know about, and when I parked here last week to give you back that sweater you forgot at your mom’s, I noticed his car and I saw him leave the moment he saw me. I- I can’t risk putting you in danger, and since I already have, I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you from it.” It wasn’t entirely false, there was a time in her life when she was haunted by her past, causing her arrival in Paris. But that was when you were so young, you wouldn’t remember a single thing, which she used to her advantage.

“You don’t need to believe me, but all I ask is that you let me stay here, and you let me protect you.” You bit back a snarl and sighed, brushing her off as you brought yourself to the couch.

“I don’t have a spare, you can take the bed.”

“No, this is your place, I’m not going to take that from you. I say we share but if that’s not what you want, then I’ll have the couch.” She debated, crossing her arms over her chest as she examined the building. She wanted it to seem like she was checking in fear of danger, but really she was trying to get a picture-perfect memorization over every inch. That way she could have a better view from beneath her blankets when her fingers were buried deep inside of her.

“Fine, we’ll share.” You mumbled, clicking through endless amounts of channels before losing hope and tossing the remote to the side.

“You don’t have to stand there like a brick wall, you know. We’ve known each other since I was little, you’re allowed to speak.” She took a breath before taking the spot next to you, adjusting her suit jacket before ruffling it off. Your eyes fell to the biceps threatening to break past the tight blouse, but looked away before she could spot you, little did you know she knew the entire time.

“So, you graduated correct?” You nodded, leaning on your hand as your elbow rested on the wooden frame of the sofa. “What was your major again? Psychology?”

“Yeah, I guess I just really wanted to follow down my Mom’s footsteps.” She mimicked your pose, letting the tightness in her muscles loosen with a sigh.

“Well, I think she’d be very proud of her little girl following her lead. In fact, JJ goes on and on about how lucky she is to have a child like you, and I agree, she is quite lucky.” She chuckled at your darkened cheeks, using her thumb to stroke the soft skin after brushing a hair out of the way. It felt right being with you like this, everything seemed to feel right with you. She didn’t know why, no brain she studied had ever given her a clear image as to what differed from hers. She just felt so protective over you, she didn’t want anyone else to get close to you. Knowing you were here, all alone, with no protection until she arrived, it scared her more than she could express.

“I don’t know about that,”

“I mean it! Anyone would be so happy to have someone like you in their life, not only are you such a hard worker, but you’re also the sweetest person I know. Just don’t tell your Mom I said that, she thinks she’s my favorite.” You laughed, slapping her chest lightly as you felt your chest warm. You instinctively shuffled closer, your feet digging under her legs to search for warmth while her hand rubbed your thigh softly to provide you heat.

“Now I feel bad for yelling at you by the door.” You admitted, bringing her to scoff playfully, showing that she wasn’t truly mad at you.

“Oh, don’t stress it, love, I would be pretty annoyed if someone came pounding at my door too.” You gave her a soft smile, letting the comforting silence embrace the both of you before you leaned your head onto her shoulder. She kissed the top of your head gently, getting a small whiff of your shampoo, making her hum in delight.

An hour later she found herself lying next to you, sighing as the comfort of the sheets embraced her. You were in the next room brushing your teeth, and she didn’t try to stop herself as she peeked under the short bottoms you wore.

“I’m keeping my gun nearby, I hope that’s alright with you.” You crawled next to her, tossing the covers over your frame as you shut off the small lamp. She did the same, frowning as your back turned to face her.

“Yeah, that’s okay.” She hesitated before wrapping her arms around your tired body, letting her face press into your neck with a soft smile. You stiffened but eventually relaxed in her hold. You let yourself fall into a slumber, a peaceful sensation falling over you as images flashed through your mind regularly.

Emily admired the softness in your small snores, she felt grateful to be let in, but she felt worried at how easily you let her pass by with a lie. Anyone could’ve made up something similar and got free entrance, she was just lucky you knew her well enough to trust her.

She knew there was no hope in holding back now, this is what she came to do, to make you hers. She didn’t care if you were her best friend's child, you were old enough to make your own decisions and she was going to lead you into making the right one.

“‘M sorry, baby girl, I promise I’ll make you enjoy it.” Her fingers trailed below your large shirt as they pinched your sore nipples, her breath coming out shallow as her eyes fluttered shut. She pressed her crotch into your backside, letting her false cock rut into you.

“You wouldn’t mind if I just,” She brought them lower, causing her palm to rub against your clit as she teased your tight hole. “Touch you right here, would ya’, baby?”

She wished you were as pure as she wanted you to be, she wanted to be your first but could easily tell that she wasn’t. Instead, she let herself picture it late at night when she was all alone. She’d draw her digits in-and-out of you while you clung onto her, begging her to let you cum for the first time. She hoped you thought about it too, but she doubted it. She could read anyone, but you were like a closed book someone forgot to pick up.

“Fuck, you’re so warm, I could stay like this forever.” She inhaled the residue of your perfume and lotion, they were fading but she basked in all of it. She could feel her wetness grow, biting her lip as she continued to grind into your backside. The strap teased her clit, bringing her great ounces of pleasure.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” She kissed down your shoulder blade as her mouth parted, a loud moan escaping her. You shuffled in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open as you adjusted to the dark room with minimal light coming from the window. You gasped, your hand falling to meet her touch. Her fingers were plunged deep inside of you, thrusting in and out as you gushed around her.

“F…fuck! Em, g-get off,” She chuckled, using her free hand to rid you of your bottoms completely. A slap came to your ass, eliciting a groan from your end.

“If you really wanted me to stop, you would’ve left by now.” You looked down, noticing she was no longer keeping you hostage in her hold. You still didn’t move, gulping as you settled in. Truth was, you had a crush on the older woman since your teen years. It was normal in the beginning, that was until you moved out and your loneliness grew. With the loneliness came a deep arousal that was unable to be removed, the only way to cure it was desperate women at the bar that reminded you of the woman. Your fingers were never enough, but you knew hers would be more than needed.

“Please, Emily-“ You chewed your lower lip, regretting the words the moment they left you. She smirked through a chuckle, sighing as she slowed her pace, bringing a high-pitched whine from past your lips.

“What was that? Please, what, Y/N?” When you came up unresponsive, she repeated her question, slowing even further until she was stilled completely.

“No- d-do that again, please,” Your hand lowered under your shirt as you palmed at your chest, shuddering as your sensitive nipples hardened to a peak.

“Mm, aren’t I already giving you what you want? I thought you wanted me to stop, so I stopped.” You couldn’t bear to face her, not in this moment, not in this level of heat.

“I…I want you to keep going, it feels really, really fucking good.” She hummed, and that’s when you felt the strap pressed into you. You were so consumed in the threshold of her long digits, you failed to notice what else she was planning.

“God, I want to fuck this ass so damn bad. You want that? You want Mommy to fuck your tight ass, yeah?” Her breath was ragged, her lips in a frenzy on your neck. You choked out a whimper, nodding your head slowly as you mumbled a small agreement.

“Would I be the first, hm? Is Mommy going to be the first to stretch out this little hole?” She lowered her pants, the fabric tight against her skin as they were a borrowed pair from you. You insisted she got out of the jeans she wore to work, even if they fit her body perfectly.

“You’re the first, Mommy.” That was all the permission she needed as she thrusted her hips forward, the tip teasing your hole in a rough, yet gentle manner. Her lips came close to your ear, her teeth sinking into the skin as you yelped in pain.

“Oh, don’t I love making you cry like a whiny little bitch.” She eased in the first few inches for what felt like years but only lasted a few minutes. It felt painful, as if there was a fire pooling inside of you. That was until it slowly started turning pleasant, causing a satisfying sensation to take over you. Her digits slid in and out of you slowly, her thumb taking to rub your clit in small circles, but it was enough to cause your brain to fog up. Your tongue peeked its way past your lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hips had a mind of your own, grinding against both penetrating objects.

“Such a good fucking girl, Mommy loves her little girl so much.” You cried out, gripping her arm tightly as you shoved your face into the pillow to muffle the noises she forced out of you.

“No, no, you’re going to let me hear every single moan and whimper and cry; I’m not letting you off that easily.” Her length was now more than halfway through the barrier you set. You followed her hand, feeling a small bulge touching the surface. You pushed yourself impossibly closer to her, letting out a weak whimper.

“Mommy, I,” Your legs shook as you clenched tightly around her, soaking her fingers in your sweet nectar.

“It’s okay, baby, make a mess all over me. That’s it, Mommy is so proud of you, sweetheart.” She drove her hips with a harsher pace, watching as your hole squeezed her until she could barely move. She didn’t stop her ministrations, making you twitch in excitement and pain.

“It’s t-too much, Mommy.” She rubbed your clit faster, her groan evident as your juices sprayed across the sheets. You wept loudly, not caring for the neighbor's complaints the next day, they already disliked you, there was no point in trying to amend that.

“No, it’s not. You can go back to sleep, dove, Mommy just wants to play for a little bit longer.” You both knew there was no possibility of you resting after this, you’d both be continuing until the sun rose.

“Your Mom is going to fucking kill me, but, God, I want to taste you so bad.” Your eyes widened as you remembered the plans you and your mother were having the next day. She was supposed to come over for lunch before the two of you would leave to go shopping as she insisted you needed decorations for your new apartment. Emily couldn’t be here when she arrived, she’d instantly get an understanding of who left the dark marks over your neck, anyone who saw you would easily be able to guess the activities that were to be had the night prior, but it didn’t help that it was her job to read people like books.

“I don’t care, just fuck me, Mommy…please?” The moment you spoke she knew she was going to fulfill whatever request you made, and your small, tired voice only proved that. She bit her tongue, leaning close as she placed her digits on your lower lip, dragging it down as you took the offering with a grateful sigh.

“Whatever my girl wants, they get.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss smut #Emily prentiss fluff #Emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #Emily prentiss x reader smut

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fanon-canon-idfk · 1 year

Text

Reposting the Dazai work bc the reblog is messing it up <3

The Man Behind the Smile

Dazai Osamu x Male Reader

You had been working at the ADA for about 2 years already, knowing all of your fellow coworkers well, especially the two you’d gotten closest with,

Kunikida Doppo and Dazai Osamu, the two you’d been partnered with in your time here.

One free day off from work, you were called by your coworker Kunikida,

“Y/N, could you please do me a favor?” Kunikida spoke politely over the phone.

“Of course, what’s up?” You asked, urging him to continue.

“Dazai hasn’t shown up to work again, he said yesterday he was going to some bar, please check his dorm and sober him up for work.” He spoke, the hidden desperation to find his coworker hardly being disguised.

“I’ll check on him, Kunikida, don’t worry.” You reassured. “Thank you, Y/N” he thanked you before hanging up.

You began getting dressed to walk over from your dorm to your friend’s, which was a short walk from your own.

When you reached his door you were about to knock, before you realized his door was already cracked open.

You immediately pictured the worst, reaching for the weapon you kept hidden in your pocket for self defense.

You breathed in deeply before slowly opening the door and quietly scanning the apartment.

There was a room littered in stray empty and half empty alcohol bottles, and your friend laying right in the center of it all as you saw his body rise and fall from slow breaths, reassuring you he was alive.

You sighed before walking over to the man whom you’d presumed was asleep from the alcohol intake.

When you reached him you sat behind him and leaned over him to wake him up, a hand already placed to shake him awake.

But then you saw he was perfectly awake, but still clearly very drunk. His face was red and his eyes were hazy as he hugged a nearly empty bottle tightly.

He slowly looked up at you and shifting to slightly face you. As he squinted to make out your face from the dizziness you saw his eyes widen.

Then and there was an expression you’d never seen on your friend’s face.

He looked shocked, heart-ached, and relieved. So much emotion on a man you’d hardly seen be truly authentic.

“O…da..?” He whispers out shakily as his breathing gets quicker and his face gets more and more emotional.

He quickly sat up and faced you fully, then grabbing you and hugging you unbelievably tightly.

“Oda! Odasaku..” he cried out, his left hand grasping at the back of your head to try holding you closer as if you’d vanish in thin air.

You hesitantly half hugged him back with one arm “Dazai..? What’s the matter?” You asked, now very concerned for your friend’s behavior and who this Odasaku was.

“I missed you.. so much.. I’ve worked every day to be a good man I promise..” he spoke slowly, as if fighting back any more emotions he could possibly pour out.

Your heart ached at his words, ´a good man’. You had no clue what Dazai had been through but you felt so much sadness at just how much he seemed to hold on.

You knew you had to tell him it wasn’t what he thought, that you weren’t this man he spoke of, to snap him out of it.

But you couldn’t do it, not to him..

“I’ve.. missed you too, Dazai” you played along, hugging him back fully now.

“I know how hard you’ve worked, you’ve done good. I’m proud of you, Dazai. You are a good man.” You had no clue what you were saying, if you were even being accurate to the role, but it seemed like what he needed.

He let out a shaky breath, he stayed holding you in complete silence, only his shaking breaths and rare quiet whimpers filling the silence.

Then you felt his breathing settle and slow, his grip on you loosen, the weight his body leaned on you.

He had fallen asleep in your arms, you laid him back onto his futon gently, holding his head to tuck a pillow under it.

You knew you’d have to make an excuse to Kunikida later, but that was at the back of your mind for now.

After looking at him one last time you got up and began looking for a trash bag to collect all the bottles.

After collecting each one by one, empty or not, and throwing them away in the dump outside the dorms, you took to checking his kitchen.

He lacked any food at all in his fridge or cabinets, but a package of instant ramen you could make do with to help him out when he woke up.

You quickly cooked it and placed it into his microwave to heat when he woke up.

You then simply grabbed a cup from his sink, washing it off before filling it with water to place on the table.

While you were at it, you took to silently doing his dishes as well.

When you’d finished you walked back over to his sleeping form, noticing he was still in his full attire along with shoes.

You carefully took off his shoes, coat, vest, and necktie to make him more comfortable. Folding each garment when you were done and placing his shoes at the door.

Just then you got a call from Kunikida, he was likely checking in since you hadn’t called him back.

You walked outside the dorm to answer the call. You calmly explained to Kunikida the excuse that Dazai was too sick from the night before to make it to work, reluctantly Kunikida accepted it and hung up.

You sighed before walking back into the dorm. As you finished silently closing the door behind you, you heard a voice call to you.

“Y/N..” Dazai muttered, voice raspy from clearly just waking up and feeling sickly.

“Good evening, Dazai.” You greeted him as if all was normal as to not make him uncomfortable as you walked to him and sat by his side.

You continued on, “I made you some ramen and got you a cup of water if you’d like. I also hope you don’t mind but I did your di-“ he cut you off with a hand lazily pushed onto your mouth.

You looked at him confused, he stared at you blankly, no fake smile or anything, just Dazai. He gestured a finger to his lips as he made a shushing sound.

He then threw his head into your chest, his hand falling from your face.

You wanted to say something, but you understood that this wouldn’t be something Dazai wanted to talk about, you felt you owed the man a break.

“Could you help me to the bathroom..? Please..” he muttered quietly, but enough for you to hear.

Without hesitation you began lifting his limp body from his under arms as you slung one over your shoulder and began dragging him to the bathroom and then began starting him a bath.

You sat him on the floor to prop him against his bathtub, “I’ll go get you some more comfortable clothes.” You offered before walking out quickly.

You came back with a large long sleeve shirt and sweatpants you found for him along with underwear for him. Expecting him to ask you to leave so he could bathe, you began leaving the bathroom before your hand was quickly and tightly grasped.

“Dazai..?” You questioned him, not understanding what more he needed.

He didn’t say a word, he just tugged on your arm weakly and gestured his head toward the bath.

“You want me to.. help you..?” You were unsure if you were right and hesitated to say it, but Dazai nodded slightly before he gestured to undoing his shirt buttons.

“Are you sure..? Do you really feel comfortable with this..?” You asked him, searching for reassurance that you wouldn’t make him uncomfortable or overstep. He just nodded again.

You just nodded back then sighed before beginning to undo his shirt, then slipping it off his bandaged arms gently.

He gestured to his pant button much like he did with his shirt. You breathed in deeply before hesitantly undoing and removing your friend’s pants.

You then paused and looked to him again, wanting to be there for him but not go past what he asked of you.

He placed a weak finger against the waistband of his boxers and nodded to reassure you.

Out of respect you looked away from his lower body as you slipped off his last layer of clothing leaving him in his bandages alone.

You refused to look at him as to not make him uncomfortable. You felt his warm hand on your shoulder as you looked over and straight into his eyes.

He pulled at your shirt and gestured into the bathtub as he wanted your help getting in.

You understood as you looked away once more before lifting him up again and gently placing him into to perfectly warm water.

You stayed looking away, but Dazai grabbed your hand once again and gestured his head to the shampoo and conditioner as he wanted you to wash his hair.

You still couldn’t understand this, did he just gain this much trust in you? Is he just feeling that low? Is he planning something? You couldn’t understand this out of character behavior of his.

And yet, you washed his hair, you dried him in a towel, you dressed him, you carried him to sit and eat, you fed him, you helped him drink his water, and you carried him all the way back to his futon.

But most importantly, you stayed. He asked you to stay with him, and you laid right by his side.

Perhaps it was just his mood, or maybe Dazai secretly loved you and took the chance for affection, or maybe he just needed someone and couldn’t put it off anymore.

Either way, you stayed. And from then on, you’d vowed to always stay. Dazai needed you.

Part 2

#male reader #top male reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd scenarios #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bsd x male reader #dom male reader #headcanon #dazai osamu #seme male reader #dazai x male reader #sub bsd #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs x male reader #male reader blog #x male reader #osamu dazai #dazai osamu x reader

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valeskafics · 7 months

Text

"Hi, I'm Billy. I'm Dead. Wanna Hook Up?" - Ghost!Billy Washington x Reader (AHS Murder House AU)

a/n: first full fic for billy w! hope you guys enjoy 💕

Summary: When your parents move you halfway across the world during your senior year to fix their imploding marriage, you find comfort in an unlikely source.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of death/murder, fingering, loss of virginity, p in v sex, ghosts, major character death

Word Count: 3,500 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Trigger Point characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

A little bit of resentment against your parents isn’t abnormal, most psychologists would say. Of course you know what a psychologist would say, your dad is always trying to shrink and therapy talk you, the sanctimonious fuck. Maybe if he’d gone to couples therapy like your mom suggested years ago and done the work which he tells everyone else to do, he wouldn’t have fucked his secretary and blown up your entire life. Moving to the UK just to fix their marriage? And you thought you were selfish. You scowl as you carry box after box up to your room, doing your level best to ignore your parents.

The house is huge, you note as you walk down one of its many hallways, and you absently wonder how your parents were able to afford this. The fixtures alone look like they run in the tens of thousands. It’s a creepy house, the realtor said it’s over one hundred years old, but you sort of dig that about it. It gives it history, personality. You use your elbow to open your door, dropping the box on your bed as you begin setting up your room, carving out your own little corner of the world in this new place.

But something feels off somehow. Like someone’s watching you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but when you turn around? There’s no one there. You chalk it up to just getting used to the new place and resume your task. The house is so large that apparently your dad is going to be able to see patients in the home office downstairs. Well, at least there won’t be any secretaries to fuck that way, you muse as you hang up one of your posters.

You mutter to yourself, annoyed, “I swear if this stupid house is haunted…”

“It is.”

You let out a shriek, turning around and facing the source of the voice, a tall, lanky guy, probably around your age, with blond hair and baby blue eyes, “Who told you that you can just go sneaking up on people like that?”

“Sorry,” he smiles awkwardly, “Anyway, I’m Billy. Billy Washington. I used to live here till my family moved out.”

You stare at him, unimpressed, but give him your name, “How’d you get in here, Billy Washington?”

He shrugs, eyeing the posters and pictures you’ve hung up on your wall, “Front door was open. Your parents aren’t the most safety-conscious people it would seem,” Billy turns to face you, “I have an appointment with your dad, was looking for his office when I found you.”

You nod in understanding before asking, “So do you go to the high school- er, I mean college down the road?”

“Something like that.”

“Year 13?” you ask, trying to remember how the school years work here. He nods and you let out a quiet sigh of relief, “Well, at least I’ll know someone when I start.”

“I don’t go to class that often. Kinda the local fuck-up,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “But, yeah, you know someone.”

“So what do you see my dad for? You some kinda psycho or something?”

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping an octave, “Do you want me to be?”

You gaze up at him, noticing yet again how fucking tall he is before replying, “I’m guessing… Anxiety? Depression?”

“What gave it away?”

“The dark circles and the band shirt. And the cigs,” you tease, “You have all the hallmarks of existential angst.”

“Ah, yeah. That’ll do it. Sorry for being so transparent,” he jokes.

“Well, Billy Washington, you are on the wrong floor for an appointment with my dad,” you say pointedly, “Down the stairs, first door on the left.”

“Cheers,” he nods, turning to leave, but giving you one last look over his shoulder, “See you around.”

The next morning, as you leave for school, in a fucking uniform no less, you see Billy sitting on the steps of your front porch, smoking a cigarette. You close the door behind you and walk over to sit beside him while you wait for the bus. Billy looks at you from the corner of his eye and you notice how his gaze lingers on your thighs, exposed by the uniform’s skirt, and on the bit of cleavage he can see. You have half a mind to call him out on it, but you don’t. Maybe because you sort of enjoy the attention he’s giving you. After all, he’s definitely cute in an emo grunge sort of way.

“Those things will kill you,” you say dryly, eyeing his cigarette.

He chuckles, exhaling some smoke, “Maybe I’m already dead.”

“Hilarious,” you scoff.

Billy turns to face you, “So what made your family move here anyway?”

You let out a sigh, “Dad cheated on Mom. They’re here to ‘fix their marriage’ or whatever.”

“And blowing up your life in the process is just collateral damage?” Billy raises an eyebrow.

“Pretty much,” you grab the cigarette from his hands and take a drag, enjoying the way his lips quirk up into a small smile, “Anyway, that’s my life. Dragged to a new fucking country because Dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and is a dirty fucking liar.”

“So your mom still loves him.”

“Fuck love,” you retort, exhaling some smoke.

Billy laughs at your words, looking at you, “Someone’s not a fan of romance, I take it.”

“What can I say? I’m a fatalist.”

“Fatalist?” Billy repeats, grabbing the cigarette back and taking another drag, “You know the way you talk and your outlook on life, it’s kinda sexy.”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks before muttering, “Yeah, well, people are all fucking liars, I don’t know.”

Billy is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I won’t ever lie to you.”

His words are earnest, as is the expression on his face. Your heart skips a beat but you quickly shake off whatever this feeling is when you see the bus roll up.

“You going to school today or ditching, local fuck-up?”

“Ditching. I have a morning appointment with your dad anyway,” he says easily, “You should too. Hang out with me.”

“It’s my first day or I would,” you sigh, turning to board the bus, “See ya.”

You give him one last wave over your shoulder before the doors close.

Your father greets Billy politely as he enters his office. And he’s quite surprised at how curious Billy seems to be about you. The way he keeps glancing over at the picture of you that’s on his desk, the way he seems completely uninterested in his therapy. The questions are innocent at first, like him asking if you’re an only child. Asking what sort of music you’re into. Your dad humors him and answers, unsure of where this is going. And when he tries to steer the topic of conversation back to Billy’s therapy, Billy seems determined to antagonize him.

“So what do shrinks think about when a patient doesn’t talk about their trauma to punish said psychiatrist?” Billy asks, lighting another cigarette, “I bet you think about sex.”

“Do you think about sex a lot?”

“I think about one girl in particular,” Billy grins, “Your daughter. I jerk off thinking about her a lot.”

“I’m not comfortable with you talking about my daughter anymore, Billy,” your father says coolly, trying to maintain his composure.

“Don’t you wanna know what I think about doing to her?” Billy leans forward, “How I lay her on the bed and caress her soft skin, make her purr like a little kitten,” your father cringes at Billy’s words, prompting the blond to grin again, “I bet she’s a virgin. They get wet so easily. Would hardly even take any work.”

“Do you turn to these thoughts to comfort yourself in times of stress?”

“Yeah, I jerk off a lot to make the bad thoughts go away. You probably do too, don’t you, Doc? I mean, you’re a pretty sexual guy,” Billy taunts, “Your daughter told me all about you and that secretary of yours.”

Your father promptly kicks Billy out of the office, making a mental note that he needs to give the boy’s family a call to let them know he’ll no longer be treating him. He tells him not to go near you ever again.

An instruction Billy has no intention of following.

Billy thinks you should count yourself as lucky that out of all the spirits that reside in this house, it’s him who’s taken an interest in you. He bides his time until you get back from school, remaining out of sight until you go up to your room. He watches as you lay in your bed, completely exhausted from your first day, and all the assholes who messed with you, saying you’re the freak who lives in the “Murder House”. He leans against your doorway, gazing at you. You seem to feel his stare on you and look up, meeting his eyes. He can’t help but think you look so gorgeous and vulnerable right now, his breath hitching as you look at him. You’re just wearing an oversized tee shirt, and fuck, do those thighs have him thinking some less than holy thoughts.

You take out one of your airpods and greet him, “Hey…”

“Hey,” he mutters, taking a seat beside you on the bed, taking the airpod you extend to him and placing it in his ear, “What’re we listening to?” Billy asks, glancing down at your bare legs.

“Nirvana,” you say, humming along with the song.

Billy moves to rest a large palm on your thigh as he listens, reveling in the feeling of your smooth skin against his hand, “You listen to them often?”

You glance down at his hand before turning to smirk at him, “What’s that hand doing?”

He chuckles, moving it slightly higher, “You know exactly what it’s doing.”

You shiver slightly at his touch before asking, “So why do they call this place the Murder House?”

“Couple of murders a few years ago. And a lot more before that,” he says, squeezing your thigh slightly, grinning at the way you react to his touch, “I could show you where they happened, you know-”

You’re interrupted by your father knocking and entering your room - you scowl, glaring at him, “Can you knock?!”

He immediately kicks Billy out, telling you that he doesn’t want you hanging around him anymore. But all that does is make you even more interested in him.

And he’s there on the front porch steps again the next morning, smoking a cigarette. You approach him.

“So I was thinking about ditching today.”

Billy raises an eyebrow, “Really now? And I thought you’re such a good girl,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the step, “Looks like I’m proving to be a bad influence.”

You roll your eyes, sitting beside him and question, “So do you wanna hang out or not, jerk?”

He chuckles playfully, “You’re kind of a brat, aren’t you? I like it.”

“I was thinking maybe you can show me where some of the murders happened,” you suggest, “I’m into the dark and macabre.”

Billy nods, “That I can do, but are you sure? This is pretty macabre. Might be too much for your pretty little self to handle.”

“I promise you I can handle it.”

He stands up, putting his cigarette out and gestures for you to open the door, “Alright. Let’s go.”

Billy proves to be pretty good company. He points out where one of the previous owners shot her husband after discovering him having an affair with the maid, where another previous resident allegedly tortured some local kids. He’s a fountain of knowledge, at least as far as creepy shit about this house goes. The two of you head down to the basement, where he says that one can commune with the ghosts of the house. You give him a weary look, telling him you don’t believe in ghosts.

“You will.”

You gasp softly as he pins you against the wall, pressing his body up against yours. Those gorgeous blue eyes bore into yours, the intensity behind them leaving you weak in the knees.

“I’m not scared,” you murmur softly.

“I think you are,” he says, moving to whisper in your ear, one hand resting on your cheek, “And I think you actually like that.”

“Does that make me a psycho too?” you murmur as he brushes his nose against yours, inhaling your scent.

“It does. We belong together,” Billy replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re the only light I’ve ever known.”

You close your eyes as his lips meet yours, a slow, sensual kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue moves into your mouth, dancing against yours. Billy’s hands move to your thighs, squeezing them before hiking them up around his waist so that you’re wrapped around him. He moves to kiss your neck, nibbling on it softly, sure to leave a mark behind, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’ve never been kissed like this, like someone needs you. His hands move up your skirt, caressing your ass before giving it a light slap.

“I haven’t really done this before,” you murmur between kisses.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, “I’ll be gentle.”

Billy moves your panties aside, his fingers moving along your pussy, a little smirk playing on his lips as you shiver against his touch. He pushes one finger inside you, letting out a low moan at how wet you are for him already, moving it in and out, torturously slow, watching the way your face twists in pleasure. He adds a second finger, slowly pumping them in and out of you. His fingers feel so good inside of you as he curves them in a come hither motion, brushing up against you sweet spot as he begins to increase his speed. You let out a mewl of his name, clinging to him as he moves his fingers in and out of you faster and faster, your pussy squeezing around him.

“Knew I’d have you purring like a little kitten,” he chuckles darkly, “Isn’t that what you are? My little kitten?”

“Yes,” you manage to gasp, your breathing ragged as he begins to circle your clit with his thumb, pressing down ever so slightly, “Oh my God, Billy, I’m so close…”

“Soak my fingers, kitten,” he urges, rubbing against your clit as he continues moving his fingers, “Come on, baby.”

You let out a wanton cry of his name as you reach your climax, your entire body contracting before the tension is released, your mind going completely blank at the white hot pleasure that sears through you. Billy watches as your entire body trembles all because of him, feeling pretty fucking satisfied with himself. He undoes his jeans just enough to free his cock, giving it a few quick tugs, working himself to full hardness. You stare at it, mouth watering slightly. But Billy wants this to be all about you. He runs the tip of his cock along your pussy, laughing softly at the way your entire body tenses. He slaps it against your clit once, grinning at the little cry you let out, then again before finally sheathing himself inside you.

Your head hits the wall behind you as you lean back against it, adjusting to his size. He’s so thick that it nearly feels like he’s splitting you in two, but it feels so fucking good. Billy fills you up perfectly and it’s like everything you ever imagined it would be. He stays still inside you for a minute, barely resisting the urge to rut into you like an animal. After a few more moments, you give him a reassuring smile and a nod, urging him to just fuck you already. And he does. He snaps his hips against yours at a breakneck pace that has you mewling his name, bucking your hips up against his as his fat cock bullies against your walls, hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. Billy keeps going, faster and faster, pulling back and slamming into you, his lips pressed to your neck. You squeeze around him tighter and tighter, feeling the pleasure rising up in you like a tidal wave until finally, you soak his cock, coming with a near scream of his name. Billy reaches his own end soon after, resting his forehead against yours as the two of you come down from your high.

“That was…” you trail off breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You hear the front door open and panic, “You’ve gotta go. My dad will freak if he sees me with you.”

Billy nods, buttoning his jeans before asking, “You want me to come back and visit you later, kitten?”

You smile as he kisses you again, quickly saying, “Are you ditching tomorrow? Don’t you ever go to school?”

He scoffs, “Course I am. And so are you.”

“Maybe I wanna get an education,” you retort playfully as he squeezes your hips.

“I can tutor you in anatomy-”

You burst into laughter, “Oh my God, so fucking cheesy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin as he kisses your throat, “Come on, just ditch tomorrow.”

“I’ll ditch after lunch, we can meet back here,” you say, giving him one last kiss before dashing back up the stairs to greet your dad.

Billy watches you go, a pit growing in his stomach as he whispers, voice cracking, “I don’t want you to go…”

Billy’s mildly shocked when you approach him, fire in your eyes, lips set in a grimace, the next day, “Are you a fucking ghost?”

His eyes widen and he immediately tries to downplay the accusation, “Hey, hey, calm down there, kitten-”

“Fuck you, I won’t calm down!” you snap, waving a piece of paper in his face, “Billy Washington. Deceased. 2022.”

He sighs, speaking in a disappointed tone, “Dammit… Yeah, I’m a goddamn ghost, happy?”

“You lied to me!”

Billy looks at you, raising his hands as a gesture of surrender as you shove him, “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you yet. What did you expect me to say? ‘Hi, I’m Billy. I’m dead. Wanna hook up?’ No, you would’ve thought I was batshit!”

“You promised you’d never lie to me,” you say angrily, glaring up at him.

“Look, can I be honest with you?” Billy asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hands.

“That would be a first,” you retort sharply, wincing at the injured look on his face, “Yeah.”

“I just… I needed you to like me. I needed to be close to you,” he mumbles, “Please…”

“I need time,” you say, pulling away from him, “You need to leave me alone.”

His jaw drops, expression pained, “But… I…”

“Leave me alone, Billy, please-”

“I can’t,” he shakes his head, tears streaming down his face, letting out a heart-wrenching sob, “You’re all I want, you’re all I have!”

You turn from him and walk into the house. You run up to your room and bury your face in your pillow, sobbing.

But little do you know that being parted from Billy makes you more vulnerable to the other entities in the house.

You successfully avoid your spectral ex for the next few days, but God, you fucking miss him. All you can think about is being with him again, sitting with him, laughing with him, making love to him, kissing him. It’s becoming a fucking problem. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, all your thoughts are haunted by your ghostly lover.

The hauntings in the house increase. Things being moved around, doors creaking, windows flying open. It terrifies you. You wish you could ask Billy about it, but you do your best to soldier on.

Until one day, when you’re leaning over the bannister to fix a lightbulb per your mother’s request and an unseen force pushes you. Billy tries to catch you before you land, but it’s too late. He holds your body in his arms, sobbing hysterically.

“Don’t you die on me,” he pleads, his voice cracking as he holds your head to his chest, “Baby, please wake up… I love you…”

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see you, “Billy… It’s okay. I… I was going to find you today to tell you I’ve taken the time I need and I want to be with you,” you pause, “Being alive would’ve been preferable but I love you too, Billy,” you press a kiss to his cheek, “I want to be with you.”

Billy wipes his eyes and embraces you tightly, never wanting to let go.

And he won’t have to.

#billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #billy washington imagine #billy washington x y/n #billy washington trigger point #my writing #billy washington smut #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington fan fiction #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington #ewan mitchell #trigger point #billy washington oneshot #ahs au

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seuonji · 7 months

Text

彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan

part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3

notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?

genre ๑ fluff, new interest.

warnings ๑ none

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

it was a hectic but fun shift at your daycare job. the kids love you and you equally got along with them. your coworkers reasoned that it was because of your youthfulness that made working with them a breeze and you couldn’t disagree.

there was just 5 kids left and it was nearing the hour that would mean you’re working overtime but you didn’t mind.

the kids played with the toys around the room but you had just tidied up the place so they made sure to not make too much of a mess.

just as you were about to settle down on the floor, the doorbell rang signalling a parent was there. you instantly got up and chuckled at the way you didn’t even get to touch the floor.

you took a look to the glass entrance door to see who was there and usually you’d be able to recognise the parent/guardian but you have never seen this person ever. you looked over the kids in the room and back to the door. “i’ll be back okay, stay here,” you instructed to the kids who gave a sweet nod.

at the entrance stood a tall, lanky man. you couldn’t tell what his age could be but if you had to guess, he was probably your age or a bit older. he had hair that framed his face well and he was definitely someone that could brag about his looks. his appearance made your heart flutter.

often when you couldn’t recognise someone, you’d fear that this was a complete stranger, could be be those kidnappers but you didn’t get those vibes from him. or was it the pretty privilege?

you pressed the button which unlocked the door and he stepped in, “hi, i’m here for choi yuna,” he kindly spoke and shot a smile that could kill.

despite the looks that could sway you, you were hesitant. yuna was choi seungcheol’s daughter. you knew seungcheol was a busy man. he ran a big company but he never failed to pick up his daughter. plus he dropped her off in the morning and didn’t mention someone else would be picking her up which made this suspicious.

“im sorry, i need to know if you’re allowed to pick her up, how do you know her?”

“sorry! forgot to introduce myself, i’m yoon jeonghan, seungcheol’s secretary, he would've came but his meeting ran long so he sent me to pick yuna up.”

you were still unsure, you weren’t gonna take any chances for a case to happen, “can i make a call to seungcheol first?”

jeonghan let out a husky laugh, “you’re careful huh? what if i just showed you a picture of me and him together?"

“that won’t be enough.”

“alright but if you’re gonna call him, he’s could still be in his meeting i think your call will just be transferred.”

you already had your eyes on your phone but gave him a look as he said that. you still made the call and it instantly connected. “yn? is everything okay?“ the man on the other line opened with concern in his voice.

“hi mr.choi! yea, i just wanted to confirm that you sent someone else to pick up yuna?”

“ah- yes, im so sorry i just got out my meeting if i was the one to come yuna would still be there so i sent jeonghan. don’t worry, he’s a trusted friend! sorry for not letting you know.”

“no worries, just wanted to make sure,” you quietly sighed with relief. you said goodbye and ended the call. you stared at your screen and there was a loud silence for like 2 seconds until you closed your phone and lowered your head to the secretary, “sorry for making a hassle.”

he gave a sympathetic smile and waved his hands, pushing you back up, “no, don’t be! you’re just doing your job, it’s good your keeping these children as safe as you can. i’m glad you’re being this careful, if anything, if you weren’t so cautious i probably would’ve told seungcheol to find a new daycare.”

he was surprisingly nice.

“thanks,” you couldn’t hold back your grin. “um, i’m going to go get yuna.”

he nodded and you walked to the fence which led to the section of the room to the kids were in. jeonghan peered over and his eyebrows instantly rose. he didn’t know there were still children there. he got shocked that the kids weren’t checking if their parents were there. they were just sitting in a circle, playing and sharing the toys. usually they would be hoping the parents are here right? why weren’t they checking?

but jeonghan saw the way their face lit as you walked towards them. perhaps the environment was that good he thought to himself.

you held yuna’s hand and walked to the exit.

“i don’t want to go yet yn!” yuna clamoured. you softly laughed, “you’ll come back tomorrow.”

jeonghan silently watched you in confusion. were you an angel or something? kids love it when their parents are here, if anything, they cry at the absence of their parents right? yet someone like yuna who’s close their parents is clinging onto you.

“yuna!” jeonghan called out.

“uncle?” yuna beamed and ran to the older man, her height allowing her to only hug his legs.

jeonghan bent down and patted her head, “dad can’t make it so i’m here but we’ll see him in a bit okay?”

yuna nodded signing she understood. “did you bring your bicycle?” she asked with wonder in her eyes.

“bicycle?” jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows.

“the one you always come to my house with!” yuna hinted.

the man was left puzzled but also mildly embarrassed at the possibility that you’s think he uses a bicycle to get to places, “yuna, what bicycle?”

“the loud bicycle!”

“a motorcycle?” you chipped in.

“ahh—,” he did have a motorcycle. he was stunned and wondered what you thought of him— but actually, why does he care what you think.

jeonghan recollected himself, “your dad wouldn’t let me but hey, the car waiting for us outside has a tv!”

yuna was notably convinced the car was better especially with the way she hopped and cheered. you giggled at the way he changed her opinion so easily.

jeonghan stood up and held yuna’s belongings, “guess we’re good to go, say thank you to yn yuna.”yuna jumped to give you a hug and jeonghan waved a goodbye. soon, the two walked out.

you closed the door and deeply exhaled. you placed your hand over your chest yet your heartbeat couldn’t slow down. there was something about that man.

jeonghan looked back at the daycare’s door. he thought of the way his heart beated twice more than usual since he walked through that door.

was it you or the 5 sugars he put in his coffee that afternoon?

he shook his head and laughed after recalling the measures you went through to make sure he wasn’t a kidnapper or something.

“do you like yn yuna?” jeonghan turned to her. “why?” yuna dragged her words at the end. jeonghan inhaled stiffly forgetting about how yuna was in her ‘why’ phase. “just asking, so do you enjoy yn’s company?”

“of course! they're really nice! they always play with me and one time they bought me stickers!" jeoghan knew which stickers yuna was talking about. it was pasted somewhere in seungcheol's office and jeonghan made fun of him for it. his heart warmed at the way you seemed to be a genuinely good person. he’s known you for a few seconds but though your actions first impression, he could tell you were someone worth meeting and he liked people like that.

he really couldn't tell why but for some reason, he wanted to be the one to pick up yuna tomorrow.

luckily for him, he’s the secretary and he can manipulate his boss’s’ schedule however he’d like to.

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book-place · 1 year

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Sulking at the Gala

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader

Request: Heyyy!! I was thinking about batfam x batsis going to a gala and hanging out with the kids. She swears that she hates them, but she could never stay mad at a child for too long. Her brothers were kinda confused, because shy were you hanging out with little kids and not them? They were kinda jealous tbh. You'd be seen playing peekaboo with a baby or carrying them in the air like superman. Sorry if this made no sense, I wanted to keep it simple so you could kinda add/ change some things if you wanted to. Have a nice day!

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: You absolutely hate going to galas. You’re always miserable during them… right?

A/N: I didn’t know how to end it so… I just ended it 😭😭

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You pulled down on your dress with a grumble, a hard glare set on your face as you walked side by side with your family into the lavish building.

Bruce nudged your side with a glare, “Smile,” He urged desperately, “At least let the paparazzi get one picture of you being happy.”

Your own glare found its way to your fathers form, “I’ll smile when I’m back home in my bed, in my pajamas,” You hissed back.

It was no secret that you despised galas more than any of your other siblings, which is saying something. Not only did you hate the people there, but you also hated the fact that they always brought their kids. Kids were obnoxious and downright annoying. From what your family had gathered over the years, you had absolutely no tolerance for them.

When times came around that you were dragged kicking and screaming to a gala, you would sulk in the corner the entire time, glaring and snapping at any member of your family that tried to make you leave and interact with people.

“So, how much you wanna bet that Y/n sits down and doesn’t get up until this stupid party’s over?” Jason snickered, purposefully talking loud enough for you to overhear.

You marched over and punched him in the arm, not caring as Bruce chuckled nervously while glancing at the onlooking crowd. Dick and Tim laughed loudly as Jason scowled and rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder and even Damian smirked a little bit.

When you and your family finally surged through the sea of people at the door and were finally free to mill around, you automatically made a beeline to a corner table, snatching appetizers off trays as you went.

Your father sighed, running a tried hand down his face, “She can’t just try to enjoy one of these parties?” He groaned slightly.

Dick sighed, mockingly patting his shoulder comfortingly, “Guess she doesn’t find these nearly as exciting as you,”

He skipped off cackling with his brothers following closely on his heels, ignoring Bruce’s exhausted expression.

Your head snapped up when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder, ready to tell your brothers off, but instead, you were met with the sight of a young girl- about four years old- smiling up at you bashfully.

“Hi,” She whispered shyly.

“Hi,” You greeted back dumbly.

“What’s your name?” She began rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Y/n,” You hesitated, “What’s yours?”

She grinned, “Makayla!”

About an hour had passed dully as Dick, Jason, Tim, and Jason all lounged around a table near the dance floor, bored out of their minds.

“Look at him,” Jason scoffed, eying Bruce from across the room as he laughed loudly at what some random ceo had said, “He enjoys watching us be miserable.”

Tim sighed, dropping his head back, “Now I know why n/n makes such a big deal about these things.”

“Speaking of,” Dick piped up, “How do you think she’s doing?”

“L/n?” Damian suddenly stuttered out.

Tim looked over at him incredulously, “Yeah, who else?”

“No, I mean look at her,” The young boy insisted.

All at once, all of their heads snapped over in your direction and their jaws dropped open, gaping at you in complete shock.

You stood with a large group of children surrounding you ranging from the ages of three to eight, all of them either standing or sitting around while looking up at you in awe.

The large smile on your face made them nearly die of shock as they watched you spin around with a small child in your arms, who was giggling like crazy.

“What is she-“ Dick choked out.

“She’s…” Tim couldn’t even form a full thought.

You put the kid down and bent down near two younger children and began playing peekaboo with them, watching with a smile as they burst out into fits of laughter.

“But… she does not like spending time with us during these galas.” Damian spoke up with a small glare in the childrens directions.

“She’d rather hang out with kids then us?” Dick shrieked in horror.

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

All four boys snapped their attentions to an amused looking Bruce, who stood behind them and watched as you ticked a close by kids stomach.

“Why is she-“

“Who knows?” Bruce cut Tim off with a shrug, “But at least she’s not sulking anymore.”

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Three for One 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: How are these getting longer lol

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

If you thought the darkness was torturous, the light proves to be worse. You look at your surroundings. It’s eerie. A room curated for one. For you.

The white fluffy stool in front of a matching vanity. A picture of a woman in white sitting in a meadow, flowers all around and a stream flowing through the lush field. A vanity painted with flowers, the night tables matching; the bedspread under you similar woven with pansies. The trim at the top of the wall is pink petals on white and a soft rug under the foot of the bed.

It’s all very cute but deranged. You’d love to have all this and more but you’d rather your apartment. If the price is those three men then you’d rather a gutter. Most importantly, you want your dog.

You can’t even make your demands. The walls can’t give you what you want. You doubt your captors will either but you can try. You can wear them down. You can be nice sure, you prefer that, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be your own brand of evil.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. The noise needles in your ears and you hear the mechanism click. You raise your head to watch the door open and the one with the beard enters. Alan, Arnold? Ugh, you don’t care.

He doesn’t break the threshold. He crosses his arms and stares at you. A ripple in his forehead underlines his thoughts.

“I’m going to bring you out but you have to be good,” he says.

You close your eyes and drop your head. You fill your chest and let out a blasting wail. He grunts and stomps to the bed. He grabs your shoulders, shaking you until you nearly swallow your tongue. You bite the tip as he sits you up and you’re forced to face him.

“No, no more of that. Or you don’t get your first present.”

“I don’t want any of your presents,” you sneer.

“This one, I think you do,” he intones, “I’m asking you to give me a chance. Let me show you that this isn’t just for us. This is about you, honey.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hiss, “why can’t you just let me go?”

He shakes his head, “it’s too late for that.”

“I won’t behave. I swear, I’m going to scream–” you inhale and he quickly covers your mouth, his other hand coming around the back of your skull.

He hushes you as his blue eyes darken, “honey, I’m being nice right now, so you need to go along with this. If you don’t…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

You furrow your brow. Getting out of this room is one step closer to escape. You can be good. For now.

You let the tension leave your body and soften your expression. He senses it and slowly slides his hand away from your mouth. You flick your lashes, putting on your best pout.

“Okay, Alan, I’ll be good,” you avow.

His brow tweaks and his cheek ticks. His nostrils flare as his chest rise and falls, “it’s Andy.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’m really freaked out,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “that other guy… he hurt me.”

“Which one?” He asks.

“Er… stache guy.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he huffs, “can I untie you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, honey, I’m asking,” he looks you straight in the face, “you’re not going to try anything, right?”

“I can be good,” you squirm, “my wrists hurt.”

“Alright.”

He lays you back and rolls you over. He pulls the tape away from your arms, then your ankles. You think of the trick from the van. You know his weak spot but it’s too soon for that. Timing, it all comes down to the right opportunity.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand and helps you up.

You get to your feet and let him lead you out. His large hand clings to yours as he pulls you after him like a child. As you go into the hall, you examine every inch of the place. He takes you into the front room, a low din that in any other circumstance would be cozy.

It looks like any other living room. A sectional and an armchair, an artificial fireplace set into the wall, a mantel trimmed in tinsel, a rich carpet spread over the dark hardwood, and shelves of books along with a television mounted to the wall. The tree in the corner stands bare over a red velvet skirt.

“We can decorate the tree tonight and see if Santa leaves anything for tomorrow.”

You hold back a scoff, “um, I know Santa isn’t real.”

He chuckles, “it’s a joke.”

“Is this the surprise?” You deflate. Sounds like work to you. Of course, your apartment is too small for a proper tree but you’re less than excited for a pastime you always longed for.

“No, not the only one,” he lets you go as you tug on your hand. “Honey, we did this all for you.”

You turn on him, “I didn’t ask you too.”

“Hey, hey, why are you acting like this? You’re such a sweet girl.”

You swallow tightly and hear beeping again. Then a clamour that includes a scramble, some scraping and the thump of a door against something else. You try to see past Andy as you feel cold air rush in from outside. You want to race past him but he’d be on you in a moment.

You hear a familiar growl before another voice wafts in from the entryway.

“Ah, he bit me. Again!” One man says.

“You think I’m having fun at the ass end?” The other retorts.

“Woah, oh, shit–”

There’s a duller thump and you hear claws and paws on the floor. Your heart leaps and you look around Alan– Andy as you hear the heavy breaths bounding towards you.

“Ernie!” You squeal as the Saint Bernard lumbers in, furtively searching before he spots you. “Ernie, my boy. Oh, baby boy.”

He nearly knocks over Andy as he barrels into your arms. You hug him around the neck and inhale the scent of his fur. His collar tinkles and let his warmth ease your fear. You were so worried about him, more than even yourself.

“You said it was a puppy,” the bare-faced man snarls as he shakes his hand.

“I didn’t know…” Andy says.

“He is a puppy,” you insist.

“Who let the pussycat out?” The mustachioed creep asks.

Your eyes shoot darts in his direction and his hand shields his pants, almost instinctively. Ernie drags his large rough tongue up your cheek. He was scared too but now you have each other.

“Surprise,” Andy says, “so now, honey, you’re going to be good, right?”

You look at him and chew your lip. His eyes fall to Ernie and you put your arm in front of the dog. He doesn’t need to put his threat into words.

“Shit, I’m bleeding. That thing got shots?” Scarf asks.

“What about the girl? She got me good,” Mustache snickers.

“No, but maybe I should get checked now,” you snip.

“Woa-ho!” Mr. Caterpillar exclaims, “she’s got a mouth.”

“Honey,” Andy warns, “we’re being good, right?”

You huff and nod.

“So, apologise.”

“What?” You burst out, “he–” You stop and look between all three men. You have Ernie but you’re more worried about him getting hurt than knowing he’d hurt them in an instant. Even then, he has his head low, a steady rumble brewing in him.

“That thing needs to calm down,” the naked faced one whines, still cradling his hand.

“He’s confused,” you defend your son, “okay? And I’m sorry, er, dude, I’m sure you don’t have any communicable diseases.”

“The fuck? Disease– Alright,” the man steps forward, “that’s it. First she bites me, then she kicks me in the dick and now–”

“Lloyd,” Andy puts his hand up, “no. We’re all just getting used to each other. You’re not exactly easy to be around yourself.”

“Fuck that, I’m funny,” the fuzzy lipped man, Lloyd, argues.

“Everyone just quit,” Andy demands, “alright? Did you get the food?”

“Food?” The bare-faced man shrugs out of his jacket, “what food?”

“For the dog? I told you–” Andy begins.

“Ah, shit, knew we forgot something,” Lloyd chuckles, “he’ll be fine. He can eat chicken, can’t he?”

“He has a sensitive tummy,” you say.

“Jesus,” the third man grumbles as he hangs his scarf over his coat. “I’m not going back. It’s late.”

“Can he have rice? Carrots?” Andy suggests.

“I guess, I don’t know if he’ll eat 'em,” you look at Ernie as his deep brown eyes meet yours. You pet his head to keep him calm. He doesn’t like these men any more than you do.

“Fine,” Andy huffs, “go get the decorations,” he orders the others.

“Why don’t you get the decorations?” Lloyd sneers.

“She needs to change,” Andy explains.

“Like we can’t help her,” the other man challenges.

“I don’t often agree with him, but he’s right. We’ll get her changed.”

You grimace as your eyes ping pong at the back and forth of their conversation. This isn’t good. You don’t enjoy being talked about like you’re not there.

“How about I get myself changed?” You offer.

The men turn to you. None of them seem impressed. A sudden peel of thunder fills the room and you look at Ernie. His bark echoes in your ears.

“Shut that thing up,” Lloyd snaps.

“He’s quiet,” you say, “he was just saying the same about you.”

“Really?” He goes to take another step forward and the other man stops him, “Ransom, let me go.”

“I’ll take her, you two go get the decorations,” he says.

Andy frames his hips and sighs, “fine. We all know the plan. Let’s stick to it.”

You want to raise your hand and clarify that you do not, in fact, know the plan but you suspect you’re not a part of the collective. You keep your hand on Ernie and gulp. He nuzzles your hip.

You bend and pet behind his ear, “it’s okay.” It’s not. You move to face him, “sit,” you raise your voice, “stay. I’ll be right back.”

As you stand, the dog obeys. He’s a gentle giant, at least with you. You pat his head and turn away. The men watch you.

“That thing listens?” The one they called Ransom asks.

“He can.”

“Come on,” he beckons you with two fingers, a smirk ghosting on his lips.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd mutters as Andy approaches him.

“We can keep talking all night,” Andy pats his shoulder, “or get things moving.”

“Whatever,” the man smooths his mustache.

You reluctantly move towards the third man, the one with no personality grown out on his lip or jaw. A baby face if you ever saw one. The way he leers makes you uncomfortable. He smells like Armani.

“Not smiling now, are you?” He says under his breath as he ushers you down the hall.

He points you into that same bedroom. You stop just inside and he shoulders past you with a grumble. You watch him go to the wardrobe and open it. You look between him and the door. You could make it.

You wait a few seconds as he pushes hangers over the bar. You take a step. He doesn’t notice. Another and he’s bitching about colours. You didn’t think men were that picky. You get right in the frame of the door and back out. He looks around the open wardrobe.

“Bye,” you wave and pull the door shut.

You know he’s probably swearing at you but you can’t hear him. You hold onto the handle and hit the little lock icon in the corner of the keypad. The deadbolt rolls into place.

This is it. You edge out to the living room. You don’t see anybody. Ernie sits where you left him, sniffing the air. He sees you and perks up. You wave him over and he lifts his rump, taking careful steps across the room.

You grab his collar and take him with you to the front door. You twist the handle, it doesn’t budge. You flip the lock over it, still nothing. You don’t know what to do. What the hell?

You search around you. The windows are barred, you can’t get out that way. There’s a small box right beside the door. You flip it open to reveal another keypad. Fuck.

“And where are we going, pussy cat?” The question nips your ears as a plastic ornament pings off the wall beside you. You spin and face the mustachioed menace.

“You know, I just need some fresh air.”

Ernie growls and puts himself between you and the man, keeping the distance with his body. He prowls around, snout low as he paces back and forth. Lloyd steps closer and the dog mirrors him.

“Call that thing off,” he demands.

“Why would I do that?” You challenge.

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I made him stop,” he opens and closes his fist.

“You wouldn’t hurt a puppy–”

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he tilts his head.

“Ernie,” you call the dog, “quiet. Sit.”

The dog lets out a wispy boof but listens. He flops his butt down and glares at the man. You put your hands up and step forward.

“You’re mean. How can you threaten an innocent dog?”

“He drooled on my Jimmy Choo’s,” he says, “come on,” he grabs you by the back of the neck, “let’s go get the dumbass out.”

Ernie barks as you whimper. You flutter your hand at him as Lloyd’s fingertips pinch into your tendons, “Ern, it’s okay, I’m okay. Stay.”

He must hear the panic. He remains, restlessly shifting his front paws. You march beside the man back to the hallway. You reach to touch his arm and he only squeezes harder.

“Shouldn’t blame you for trying,” he says, “but I will.”

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

Text

I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @pacifymebby ‘s 2k Follower/Christmas Celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy promises (Y/N) that he’ll be home for his family’s first Christmas in Arrow House. (Y/N)’s hoping it won’t only happen in her dreams.

Warnings: none - just some Christmas fluff

Word Count: 2223

A/N: Congrats on 2K, Layla! I went with the song ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ … I listened to Brett Eldredge’s version of it and came up with this idea. I hope you like it. And it’s fitting that this is being posted on Christmas Eve, right? Sorry for cutting it close. Happy Holidays to all! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one

(Y/N) sat back on the chaise lounge with a sigh. She bit on her bottom lip as she held the reciever up to her ear.

“Are you still there?” came from the other line.

“I am,” was what she was able to get out before she choked on her words, fingertips pressed against her lips as she tried her damnedest to hold back tears.

“Tell me what’s wrong, love.” Even miles away and through a phone call, Tommy was still able to read his wife like an open book.

There was a moment of silence before she responded. In that time, (Y/N) was trying to decide whether she wanted to make her plights known or not. On one hand, he was her husband; the person who she was supposed to disclose these sorts of problems to. On the other, she didn’t want to add another problem onto his probably already full plate.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy’s voice cut through her internal debate, bringing her back to the conversation.

“When will you be home, Tommy?” she decided to come right out and ask.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” he assured her within seconds of her making her worry known.

“But…but Christmas is tomorrow,” she stammered out, wracking her mind to try and figure out if his homecoming was even possible, “where even are you right now?”

“I’m in London, and I know it’s tomorrow. I’ll be home,” he assured her once more.

“It’s our first Christmas in this new house,” she said as she looked around the reading room that she’d decorated to her particular taste. The manor was beautiful, but it felt so empty when Tommy was away. “The kids had the best time decorating the tree,” she added, a smile gracing her face as she thought back to the time she spent with her three children earlier in the week. A time that Tommy had missed out on.

“That’s good to hear,” Tommy smiled as he closed his eyes and pictured his three young children gathered around the large tree in the living room. He never had a chance to make a memory like it when he was younger. The fact that he wasn’t present for his children at this time felt like a stab to the heart.

(Y/N)’s smile faltered as the thing that had been eating her alive from the moment her husband’s car pulled out of the driveway returned to the forefront of her mind. “I can’t have you gone much longer, Tommy,” she finally spoke, deciding to come out with her thoughts rather than keep them in.

“I won’t be, darling,” he assured her.

“When will these business trips end?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed as he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes you do. You’re the head of the company,” she insisted, a tinge of desperation seeping into her words.

“They’re part of the job.”

“They’re taking away time from our family.”

Silence rang on the line after (Y/N)’s declaration. She was no longer able to hold back the tears, letting them silently slip down her cheeks as she tried to keep the front that everything was fine on her end of the conversation.

“I’ll be home for Christmas, (Y/N),” Tommy was the one to break the silence after a few moments had passed.

(Y/N) swiped away her tears and nodded even though he wasn’t able to see her. “Ok, Tommy,” she agreed, even though she knew that it would most likely be a moot promise.

“I have to go,” he told her then.

“Ok,” she nodded once more, “I love you.”

“I love you. Give the kids a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

The line went dead after she told him she would. (Y/N) hung the phone up and let out a shuddered sigh. She looked at the garland lined mantle for a minute before closing her eyes and silently hoping that Tommy’s promise would come true this time around.

The sentence “mumma, wake up!” graced (Y/N)’s ears at the beautiful hour of seven o’clock the next morning. The feeling of three, small bodies bouncing on the bed soon accompanied it, making the woman finally open her eyes.

She was reluctant to at first because she knew that doing so would bring her beautiful dream of sitting by Tommy while watching the kids play with their presents to an end. The sight of the empty spot next to her in bed still hit her like a ton of bricks even though she was prepared for it. She couldn’t dwell on it though, because the kids’ excitement increased tenfold the second they saw her eyes open.

“Let’s go downstairs!” Charlotte, the oldest of the three, declared as she hurried to get off of the bed and make her way to the door. Max and Henry - twins who were two years younger than Charlotte, quickly followed their sister, their excitement practically palpable.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile as she tossed the covers to the side and moved over to where her robe was hung on the dressing screen. She took the same path as her children once the cozy garment was tied tightly against her frame.

The children were already rooting around the gifts that were placed under the tree, trying to find the ones that had their names on it. (Y/N) smiled as she made her way over to the couch and sat down on it. A tinge of sadness crept up on her before she could stop it. Tommy should be here, she thought to herself as the children went about unwrapping their presents.

Tommy’s words from the previous evening then echoed in her mind: “I’ll be home for Christmas”. She wanted to badly to believe that and think nothing else. But that sadness still loomed.

The children were excited to have their mum unwrap the presents that they made for her once they were finished opening theirs, and (Y/N) was able to push the sadness away as she beamed at the thoughtful, homemade gifts they’d given her.

The gloomy feelings came back when the kids went back to playing with their toys and she was left alone on the couch once more. An even larger wave washed over her when she noticed the unopened presents that still sat under the tree. One of the tags was facing upwards, and the name ‘DAD’ was written on it in Charlotte’s unmistakeable hand.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Tommy’s words rang in her mind again. She sighed and hugged her robe tighter to her body before looking over to the clock. Only in my dreams, she thought as she tried to focus back on the kids.

(Y/N) and the children ate a wonderful breakfast before the three young ones quickly dragged her back into the front room so that they could continue playing. She’d just gotten comfortable under the blanket when the sound of tires on gravel was heard outside. It made her eyebrows furrow. The family wasn’t supposed to come over until later, she thought to herself as she glanced over at the clock sitting on the mantle. It was still early in the morning.

Then the worry started to set in. (Y/N) was no stranger to the type of business that Tommy was involved in. She was by his side while he created a name for himself, and she stayed with him every step of the way. He continuously assured her that no one would ever come to their home and attack their family, but (Y/N) still couldn’t get the possibility of it to leave her mind.

She was so engulfed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Frances say “welcome home, Mr. Shelby. They’re in the front room,” as her husband entered the foyer. It didn’t even set in as Tommy appeared in the archway, and the three children went running over to greet their father.

Things didn’t become clear until Charlotte turned to face her and exclaimed: “mumma! Dad’s home!”

Then everything came into view. Charlotte with a wide smile on her face. Max and Henry in their father’s arms. And Tommy. Tommy was looking right at her with one of the widest smiles she’s seen from him in a long time.

“Let’s go over and see your mum, eh?” Tommy said to his sons before he made his way over to the couch. Max and Henry wriggled out of his arms once he stopped in front of (Y/N), clambering up into her lap to give her a hug and a kiss before they went back to their new toys.

Tommy’s eyes quickly found (Y/N)’s once it was just the two of them. “You made it home,” she said, her smile practically stretching from ear to ear.

“I told you I’d be home from Christmas, love,” he answered, winking as he sent her a grin.

“C’mere, Tommy,” she held her hands out to him, and he got the idea, sitting down next to her on the couch. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second, throwing her arms around his frame and practically climbing into his lap as she hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home,” she whispered into his neck as she nestled her face deeper into it.

“Wouldn’t miss Christmas with you for the world,” he told her, his hands finding her shoulders then. She took it as a hint and lifted her head to look at him. “I love you,” (Y/N),” he said as he reached up and ran his hand down her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her smile widening before she closed the gap between them to press her lips to his.

The kiss was filled with so much love, and (Y/N) would have happily held it longer if her lungs weren’t screaming for air. She was the one to pull away, but she didn’t move far, opting to rest her forehead against his. “I love you, Tommy. Merry Christmas,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she reveled in his presence.

“Merry Christmas,” he responded in a similar tone, his arms moving to wrap around her frame.

“Dad! We have presents for you!” Charlotte’s excited voice broke into their reverie moments later.

(Y/N) moved slightly so that she was now sitting next to him, and Tommy managed to tuck one of his arms behind her back - in efforts to keep her as close as possible - before their children came over to him with presents in hand.

“Open mine first!” Max exclaimed, thrusting the small box into his father’s lap.

Tommy smiled at the boy before he went about opening the present. (Y/N) watched on with a smile, knowing exactly what her husband was getting and how excited their son was to give it to him. Max let out like giggles of excitement as Tommy took the silver tie clasp that had a horse’s head on it out of its holder.

“Do you like it?” the boy asked with anticipation.

“I love it,” Tommy smiled before adding, “I’ll wear it the first chance I get.”

Henry gave him the next gift, which was a fancy pen that the boy had picked out himself. He said that Tommy could use it to write all of ‘his important letters’. Tommy made a promise to use it as his only pen from then on.

Then it was Charlotte’s turn. “Be careful when unwrapping it, dad. It’s fragile,” she gave a warning, one which Tommy chuckled at but also heeded to. “Do you like it?” she asked, like her younger brother had, when it was completely unwrapped.

Tommy didn’t say anything at first. Instead he stared at the present. (Y/N) peered over his shoulder to see what it was. Charlotte had been keeping it a secret from everybody. What Tommy was holding made (Y/N)’s heart swell. It was a hand drawn picture of her family - Tommy and (Y/N) stood on either side, then Max and Henry were standing next to them. In the middle was Charlotte, holding both of her brothers’ hands while she was wearing her favorite, purple colored dress. (Y/N) also didn’t miss the fact that Tommy, Max and Henry were all wearing a peaked cap.

“Do you like it?” Charlotte asked again, getting slightly impatient as her father was taking too long.

“I love it, sweetheart,” Tommy answered, finally looking up to smile at his daughter, “it’s perfect, Charlie,” he added, sounding choked up.

“It’s our family!” Charlotte exclaimed, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“It is,” Tommy nodded, “and it’s going in a frame so that it can sit on me desk.”

“So you can look at it always?” she asked.

“So I can look at it always,” he answered with a nod. Charlotte then rushed to get onto the couch so that she could hug her father.

(Y/N) quickly took the picture out of Tommy’s hands before it would get crumbled. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at it. Everything she needed in life was present in that picture…and was sitting beside her on the couch.

She was thankful that Tommy was able to make it home for Christmas.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

Listen to Brett Eldredge’s version of I’ll Be Home For Christmas:

HERE.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic

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winterrrnight · 1 month

Note

HI BAE!!!!!!! CONGRATS ON 600!!! 🙌🏼💓💓

go on without me - 16 + 21 with rafe🤭🤭🤭🤭

ahh thank you so much sweet abi!! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I just wasn't feeling satisfied with what I was writing :( I hope you like reading this! but please feel free to not read this if you aren't comfortable w the warnings given :)

protective

PAIRING: toxic!dark!rafe cameron x gn! musician!reader

SUMMARY: rafe doesn’t like another man touching you, not even as much as talking to you or looking at you.

WARNINGS: dark content! minimal swearing, established relationship, slight use of nicknames like babe, jealousy, over protective & possessive rafe, canon!rafe, toxic!rafe, threats to kill, allusions to anxiety and being scared, and kinda shitty writing (??) (please please let me know if something should be added!!!!)

EDITH SPEAKS: this is very, very new for me. this is my third attempt at this fic, the first two just didn’t turn out how I wanted, and the best approach just felt like dark!rafe. this is me basically exploring my writing and trying out new things and testing myself, so if it’s not as good as the rest of stuff you may have read, I’m really sorry, I’m a beginner 😭😭

please please heed the warnings, and it may not be as dark as some other stuff on here, it felt pretty dark while writing, and if at any moment you feel this isn’t for you please feel free to click off.

moreover, if I am being honest here, you might have read a lot of rafe fics based on this idea/prompt. so please don't think I copied someone off for this, this is completely my own creation.

and if you liked this, please please share your feedback with me, and reblog it to support my content <3

PROMPTS REQUESTED: “Actually, we’re leaving. We have something to get to.” “No we don’t – oh, okay fine I’ll call you guys later.” & “You can’t just lose your temper like this each time you get a little upset!”

600 followers celebration (now closed!) || navigation

Everyone around you cheers out loud, glasses of champagne raised in the air as huge grins form on everyone’s faces. Your new single – after a break of over three years came out today, and you have already received an overwhelming amount of support. You’re in your studio, celebrating with your team and your amazing boyfriend.

“Congratulations babe,” Rafe smiles as he hugs you tight, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You grin at him, hugging him back even tighter as you mumble a ‘thank you’.

You all celebrate for some more time, drinking fancy champagne, eating food, and taking pictures to savor the moment.

You, Rafe, and Jim, your producer, are just talking at the side when you hear your name being called. You turn to see it’s Saylor, who is one of the interns at the record label you are signed with. Your single was the first project he worked on.

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling as you approach him.

“Congratulations on the release,” he smiles, and gives you a small hug. You gladly hug him back, a grin on your face.

“Thank you Saylor,” you smile. “You were absolutely great for your first project,” you say. “I was actually asking Jim if you’d like to continue working for the upcoming singles too,”

Saylor’s lips are pulled in a huge grin as his eyes light up. “You’re serious right now?”

You chuckle as you nod your head. “Yes, of course! I would love for you to be able to gain as much experience as you can,”

Saylor absolutely can’t contain his excitement as he pulls you in for another hug. You are caught off guard but gladly hug back, chuckling a little as you do so.

“Thank you so much,” he smiles. “Seriously, it means a lot to me,” he says, a certain spark in his eyes.

“Of course, a talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste,” you say.

His smile doesn’t falter as he speaks again. “Can I get a picture with you, if that’s not an issue?”

“Oh of course not!” You say, turning to look at Rafe. “Rafe?” You call out.

He breaks from the conversation he was having with Jim and walks up to you. “Yeah babe?” Saylor passes him his phone and asks him to take a picture of you two.

Saylor stands next to you as his arm wraps around your waist, maybe a little too tighter than it should be but you don’t really say anything. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe, and he takes a sharp inhale when he sees Saylor’s side pressing more against you, as your arm rests around his shoulder.

Rafe tends to be… possessive, and you’ve always known that. Even when you both weren’t together, he wasn’t the biggest fan of how others would usually hit on you at parties, and would feel enraged when they wouldn’t let you go after you would politely ask to leave you alone.

But that possessiveness only increased when you both got together, when you officially became his girl. There’s nothing you can do about it, because that’s how Rafe is.

You can see the expression on Rafe’s face; the subtle ticking of his jaw, the acute twitching of his eye – you’ve known him long enough to identify his facial expressions just the second they appear. You are quick to remove your arm from Saylor’s shoulder, your arm now resting on your side, but Saylor doesn’t seem to catch on that; instead his grip on your waist tightens a bit, because he most probably wants you to wrap your arm around his shoulders again.

Nevertheless, Rafe takes the picture, and hands Saylor’s phone back. Saylor takes a few seconds before he lets go of you, which only happened because you gently removed yourself from his grip. You quickly appear at Rafe’s side and intertwine your hands, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Thank you for the picture,” Saylor smiles as he looks at the phone screen. All you say is ‘welcome’ with a small smile, and Rafe pulls you to a different part of the studio.

As the small party carries on, Saylor makes subtle moves – or moves which he thinks are subtle, but aren’t missed by Rafe at all. It’s Rafe’s last straw when Saylor gently grips your waist to move past you, saying a ‘sorry’ as he walks by. At that very moment, you decide it’s best if you talk to Saylor about it yourself, tell him that you know what he’s doing, and you clearly have a boyfriend. But before you can do that, Rafe’s arm wraps quickly around your waist, and his grip is tight.

Jim says something about going to a nice nearby restaurant for dinner, but Rafe cuts him off. “Actually, we’re leaving. We have something to get to.” He says firmly. You look at him with a slightly confused expression, thinking if you both do have any other appointments today or not, but your mind is blank.

“No we don’t –,” you say, but Rafe snaps his head at you, his jaw muscles tense, and your eyes slightly widen at the sight as you catch up in the fraction of a second. “Oh, okay fine I’ll call you guys later.”

Rafe leads you out of the studio, and you barely save your half full glass of champagne from falling off the table you’re trying to keep it at as he ushers you out. He opens the door of his truck for you and as you sit down, he slams it a little too harshly than usual. He walks around the truck and sits down next to you, his grip tight on the steering wheel as he starts to drive.

You take a deep breath as you lean back in the chair. This is not the first time this is happening, and you know it’s certainly not the last. You aren’t scared because you already know how this entire situation plays out. He will raise his voice at you, say stuff like how you’re his and only his, how he absolutely hates other guys looking at you a certain way because he just can’t bear the sight, and how he gives you the best treatment you can get.

You’re just silently listening to the soft music from the radio as you look out the window. You steal a glance at Rafe and see his jaw is still tightened, his grip tight on the wheel.

“Relax your jaw Rafe,” you say plainly, turning to look back out the window. You hear him take a sharp breath.

“I did not like how he was looking at you and holding you,” he utters.

You just roll your eyes at him, as if you knew that’s exactly what he was going to say. “It was just a picture Rafe, you don’t have to be so protective about that,” you say.

Rafe snaps his head towards you, but quickly turns back to look at the road. “Just a picture?” He echoes. “So you’re telling me you loved the way he was holding your waist hm?”

“Oh god when did I say that!” You retort. “And besides, did you not see? I literally removed my hand off his shoulders the instant you saw it, and moved away from him the moment you took the picture. There’s no need for you to get so worked up!”

You can see Rafe’s chest heaving as he takes rapid breaths, his jaw ticking as you can literally see a thunderstorm brewing up in him.

“You can’t just lose your temper like this each time you get a little upset!” You say exasperatedly. “You shouldn’t have been upset in the first place because there’s literally nothing to be upset about!”

Just the second those words leave your mouth, he bellows your name causing you to shut up right that moment. “Shut up!” He yells, smacking his palm against the steering wheel once. You feel the truck speed up, his foot pressing harder against the accelerator. You glance at the speedometer and see the needle pointing to larger numbers more and more with each passing second.

“Rafe-” you mumble out but you are cut off the very next instant.

“You just refuse to see it huh?” He hissed. “You refuse to see how I am the best for you. How I can, how I do treat you better than anyone else,” he goes on, and he uses his free hand to gesture around in the air.

“Get this in your head okay?” He speaks, his voice now eerily low as he gestures to his head, tapping his fingertips at his temple. “I never, ever want you as much as looking at someone else, you got that?”

You can feel the truck speeding up more. Your hands are clutching the sides of your seat, as your nails dig into the leather. Your lips are parted as you let out shaky breaths, your eyes wide and shiny with the layer of tears that have formed over them.

You thought you had seen the worst. Which was him arguing with you and telling you he’s the best for you. But right now, when his foot only seems to be pressing more and more against the gas pedal, your back pushed back against the seat due to the fast speed of the truck, you realize there’s a hidden side to Rafe you’ve never seen before.

“Rafe I-”

“Say it!” He yells, cutting you off swiftly. “Say it, that you won’t even look at anyone else!”

“Rafe please-” you mumble out, squeezing your eyes shut as hot tears flow down your face, leaving a sticky trail as they go down.

“Say it before I crash this truck in a fucking tree!”

His breathing is heavy, his eyes are wide, and you can’t recognise him anymore. His eyes are an icy blue instead of the usual dark blue you get lost in so easily, and that’s the moment you realize Rafe will never ever let you exercise any control over him. Ever.

“I-” you hiccup, “I won’t look at anyone else, okay?” You gasp, gulping down the lump in your throat as the tears keep on streaming down.

When you don’t feel Rafe slow down the truck, the seatbelt starting to dig into your neck harshly and your grip on the seat gets harder, your breathing gets more erratic as you try to gather more air to speak up again.

“Rafe, baby, please please slow down I…” you whisper, looking at him desperately.

You expect him to lash out, but he doesn’t, and the truck starts to slow down, coming at a normal pace. You move a shaky hand to your face, running your fingers across your skin to wipe off your tears, but your breath keeps on coming out in short gasps, and you feel yourself tremble a little; your heart loud in your chest.

The truck slows down more and more, and you see Rafe has parked it at the side of the road. The truck comes to a full stop, and you turn to look at Rafe through your still slightly blurry vision, your eyes now red, and panic being the only feeling clouding your mind.

Rafe rests his forehead against the steering wheel, taking in a deep breath. His grip on the wheel loosens a bit, the knuckles not so white anymore as their color flushes back. He lifts his head from the wheel and turns to look back at you, his eyes now not so icy, but still not the comforting warm blue you’ve always loved and adored.

A smile tugs on his lips, and it’s not the kind which always warms you up the moment you look at it, but it’s… sinister. It’s a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s the kind of smile that shows that he is enjoying seeing you this way. Seeing you so weak under his control.

He moves his hands to your face, brushing any loose strands off your slightly sticky face and gently running his fingers across your cheeks.

“Now baby,” he says softly, but the softness doesn’t comfort you – no. It scares you even more. “You made that a little too hard didn’t you, hm? Next time when I ask you to do something, just do it, okay? Don’t have time to wait, or- or to see how you react m’kay? Just… agree to what I say. It’s not as hard as you may think,”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, but at that moment, all you want to do is to scrunch up into a ball and be far, far away from him and his cold, unknown touch.

Your breathing fastens up, but all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes, wondering where did that sweet, loving boyfriend of yours go and got replaced by this?

When he sees you aren’t arguing back, his menacing grin only widens, and he takes his hands off you, turning to start up the truck again and continue to drive – as if absolutely nothing happened.

A hand rests on your thigh, softly rubbing the skin through the material of your pants, but you’re too afraid to even slightly move under the touch. It’s cold, it sends shivers down your spine, and you don’t know who’s hand it is.

If only someone could stop and tell you that you had lost your ‘loving’ boyfriend forever.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

wrapped around your fingers | lee jeno

title: wrapped around your fingers

pairing: CEO!lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name, no descriptions, third person) | mentioned: na jaemin

genre: smut, CEO!au, established relationship, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: Jeno finds out he has his girlfriend wrapped around his fingers... well, in a way he doesn’t quite expect.

warnings: smut, office sex, fingering (with rings on), oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm denial, minor impact play (pussy slaps), orgasm control, multiple orgasms, vibrator, light bdsm (spreader bars), squirting, rough sex, mirror sex, fingers sucking, hair pulling, hand around the throat (not chocking), minor cum play, aftercare, dom!jeno, bratty-sub!oc/reader

words: 8.009k

a/n: that’s what happens when you make me write about my strongest weakness. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know with comments, reblogs or asks!! | credits for the picture © somnia

The sound of her heels resonating through the building made heads turn around, staring at her as she walked through the corridors toward the elevator as if she owned the place.

She smiled at some of the workers she knew, mostly because she sneaked into meetings with Jeno even if she shouldn’t have been there.

She never should’ve been here, to be honest. Not even now. But after an entire week without seeing him, she was going insane.

When the elevator rang, signaling it had reached the 10th floor, she walked outside, briefly waving at the secretary at the front desk, slightly surprised to see her there, before she walked straight to Jeno’s office.

Pushing the big black door open, she stepped inside.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll call you tomorrow for the deal.” There he was. Busy over the phone, turned to look outside at the big windows behind his desk, turning around in surprise when he heard the sound of her heels against the floor.

He shrugged the surprise off his face, trying hard to concentrate on the phone call that didn’t seem to end. It was surely with an old client (both for the long-lasting partnership and for his age) and Jeno couldn’t just shut him off like that.

So, she sat on the black leather chair in front of his desk, waiting patiently for him to be free. Not that she minded staring at him, there was something dreamy (and hot) about him right now. The warm sunlight peeking from the windows hitting him. The way his toned legs were wrapped into the pants of his suit, the white blouse tucked inside, and the sleeves rolled up revealing his arms. Then her eyes fell on his fingers, they were tracing invisible lines on the black wooden desk, slim, veiny and adorned with the silver rings he always used to wear.

But something she couldn’t take her eyes off was the new watch on his wrist. It was objectively beautiful but there was something about the way it looked on him. And reminding herself how expensive it was almost made her have a heart attack again. There was something powerful behind it. One of the many signs of all the things Jeno had accomplished at such a young age. Sure, he couldn’t act as if his father’s support hadn’t been vital but he still walked on his own legs and she was incredibly proud of him.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize Jeno had hung up and was talking to her.

“Are you with me?” Jeno asked her, waving his hands in front of her face.

She blinked repeatedly, only now realizing he had moved from behind the desk. “Mmh? Yeah, just waiting for you to get off the call,” she replied, legs crossing over each other as she shifted on her seat, the fabric of the mini skirt she was wearing rising up on her thighs.

“Are you sure?” Jeno asked, tilting his head and staring at her. His eyes landed on the exposed skin of his girlfriend before raising up, watching with a smirk how she was scratching her neck. “Why are you here? You know I’m not done, yet.”

She hummed, wetting her lips. “I missed you,” she pouted, “You’ve been away all week.”

“I told you I was going to pick you up tonight,” Jeno replied. “You really can’t last that long, can you?” He teased, before leaning close to her to kiss her.

It wasn’t like he didn’t miss her too. As much as he loved his job, he hated when he had to leave and she couldn’t come with him.

She shook her head when he moved back, biting her lips as her eyes got lost once again in his arms and veins.

“Hey,” he called her, making her head snap up, meeting his face painted with a smirk. “Oh, is this a new thing?”

“What?”

“What? I was talking to him, but I saw you staring,” he said, thumb and pointer finger pinching her chin to make her look at him. “I thought it was just my fingers but apparently you’re drooling on something else.”

“I’m not drooling,” she said, trying to defend herself, acting as if she wasn’t caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

Jeno chuckled, sitting on the desk, rolling his sleeves up more, her eyes inevitably falling there once again, thighs rubbing together subtly — at least she thought — when the toned muscles of his arms flexed. She had no idea where he also found time to hit the gym, but unfortunately, he did, and that was the price to pay.

“Do you like this watch, baby?” He asked instead of talking back, moving the expensive watch with his other hand. “Like the way it sits on my wrist?”

She hummed, shifting more on the chair, feeling herself get wetter and hotter now that he was standing this close.

“Or is it my rings?” His hand started to trail on her neck before he brushed it against her breast, skin slightly exposed by the top she was wearing. “Or maybe my veins, you love them, don’t you?”

“Ye-yes. Jeno, please,” she pleaded, looking at him with begging eyes.

“Please, what? I have work to do,” he said, pulling away, and walking behind the desk.

“No, no, please,” she whined, standing up from the chair, already feeling her legs weak. “Just your fingers.”

Jeno chuckled, shaking his head. “Just my fingers? You want me to believe that will be enough for you?”

“It will,” she whispered, sitting on the desk. “Please, I’ll be good.”

“Come here,” he called, tapping his thigh, pushing the black chair back, just enough so she could sit on top of him. “I’ve got some emails to take care of.”

“What?” She asked, eyes wide and looking at him with disappointment.

“I told you, baby, I’m busy,” he replied, turning the chair so he could pay attention to the computer. But while one hand was on the mouse and skimmed through the things he had to do, the other was on her thigh, caressing the soft flesh of her skin.

“Can’t you just make one of your secretaries answer?” She asked, resting her elbow on the desk to lean her face on the palm of her hand, eyes fixated on the computer, cursing every single person and company that had sent him something to check.

“They already did. These need my approval before they can be sent away.”

Jeno wanted to concentrate on his job, he should’ve done that if he didn’t want to deal with this on Monday morning, making them pile up with some other things he had to do.

But when his girlfriend wanted something, she was going to get it. He knew her, she was like that since the first day they met, sitting next to each other in one of the uni classes they shared. Her determination was scary… but hot. He couldn’t deny that the way she loved to play around was one of the things that brought him to his knees.

And if he knew her, she knew him just as well.

She knew what she was doing when her ass started grinding against his crotch. She knew what she was doing when her fingers were teasingly grazing his hand on her thigh. And she knew what she was doing when she started to let out forced fake moans.

Jeno knew what her real moans sounded like, nothing of the pornographic whimpers and groans she was letting out just to get a reaction. And he was never going to make her fake it, not even if it was all a game.

So he closed the email tab and turned around.

“Go lock the door, come on.” Those were the only words she wanted to hear, and with a big smile on her face, she sprinted to the door and came back to him in a second.

“You need me that badly, baby?” He asked with a teasing tone, still sitting on his chair, legs spread open and she could make out his hard cock.

She hummed. “You made me starve for a whole week,” she pouted, letting him sit her on the desk how he wanted, big hands cupping her ass and squeezing tight. “Not even a picture of you. And you even barely answered the phone.”

He chuckled, shaking a strand of hair out of his face before his fingers started tracing her legs, his touch soft like a feather, and that was enough to make her heart start racing.

“It was a long week, babe,” he whispered, starting to kiss her neck, nibbling her skin ever so often, eliciting the first real moans of pleasure out of her.

“You’re wearing one of my favorite skirts,” he commented, pushing the Balmain knit buttoned skirt up. “Let’s see if you also have matching panties,” he chuckled, smirking when he saw the pastel pink laced panties sitting on her. “You came here with a mission.”

“Maybe, or maybe I just know how to catch your attention,” she winked.

“As if you need to dress up to catch my attention,” he replied. “Take the shirt off, want to see your boobs in that pretty bra.” He also knew the set she was wearing, he had gifted it to her after coming back from a long trip and it was one of his favorites.

Her hands swiftly reached the hem of the top, lifting it over her head and throwing it on the chair where she was sitting before.

“Beautiful,” Jeno whispered, face buried in the hollow of her boobs to leave kisses and light bites. Hand cupping her breasts and squeezing, eliciting a moan from her. “Missed feeling my hands around your boobs? Missed feeling how they fit perfectly in the palm of my hand?”

“Jeno, please,” she whimpered, hips rolling trying to find friction somewhere just to be met with disappointment.

“Want my fingers, baby?” He cooed, fingers trailing over her pastel pink laced panties, moving in circles. “Want them buried deep inside of you just how you like it?”

She hummed, head thrown back and lower lip bitten by her teeth to keep it low. But she failed as soon as Jeno moved the crotch of the panties to the side, leaving her bare and exposed to the chilly air of the room.

“Look down,” he ordered, “want you to watch how good I can fuck you.”

Her eyes moved down, feeling more wetness drool out of her just at the sight of him pulling her panties down her legs. She fought against the want of throwing her head back when he pushed two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I missed you,” she cried, nails dragging against the desk when he started pumping in and out, long, slim, veiny fingers curling inside of her, hitting her sweet spot just how she liked it.

“Yeah, I can see it,” Jeno chuckled mockingly. “Look how easily they go in and out. Maybe we should film this so you will miss me less when I’m gone, ugh? You’ll use it to get off when you’re all alone at night?”

She moaned, legs falling more open and ass sliding toward him.

“Look at how wet you are. You’re dripping on my desk. Do you know how expensive this was?”

She shook her head, she could imagine, but she didn’t care.

“Faster,” she simply mumbled, meeting his eyes.

“You’re so fucking greedy,” Jeno mocked but his wrist started moving faster, the cold metal of the watch hitting her mound making her go insane. “You don’t even care that someone might come in?”

“They can’t,” she argued, closing her eyes.

“But they sure can hear you. Your dirty pussy is so loud. Can you hear it, baby?” He teased, moving even faster, lewd wet sounds resonating in the room making her body burn up in shame. “Hear how messy you are. All of this for two fingers?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, hips grinding against his palm, one of her hands wrapping around his wrist to feel him more.

“Are you close already?” He asked with a fake pout, fingers moving so fast inside of her that the veins of his arms popped out even more and she lost it. She came hard. Body slumping behind against the desk, and moans spilling out of her mouth too loud that Jeno had to cover her mouth with his hand, legs shaking as finally, he gave her what she wanted.

“Too – too much,” she cried when he slapped her swollen cunt after pulling out of her, leaving her empty and leaking.

“Is it?” He cooed, doing it again, making her moan. “You came here just for this and now it’s too much?”

“Mhh,” she whimpered when the third slap hit her, cum splashing on her thighs and his pants at every hit.

“Is your clit sensitive?” He asked, starting to slap her rapidly, not hard but fast enough that she could feel herself come again, clit throbbing and cunt clenching around nothing. “Are you gonna come from this? Really, baby? Wasn’t it too much?”

“No, no, please, please, Jeno,” she cried, grabbing his hand and placing it back where it was, but the only thing she got was one last slap before Jeno pulled away. “And this one is for the naughty video you sent me one day after I left.”

She whined, throwing her head back. “I thought you forgot about it.”

Jeno laughed. “Think I can forget about you screaming my name while you fuck yourself while I’m not there? You know the rules, baby, and it’s dumb of you to think I wouldn’t punish you for not breaking them.”

She wanted to complain but her attention was brought to something else. “What are you doing?” She asked when she saw him unbuckling his belt.

“Doesn’t it seem obvious?” His pants fell on the floor, followed by the black boxer, revealing his hard cock.

“No, if you keep up with your words of before.”

“You think I can really go on for the rest of the day with a boner cause by you?”

She shook her head, not able to hide the smile that was forming on her face at the anticipation of being fucked on his desk.

“On your knees.”

Her eyes widened at his words. “You won’t fuck me?”

“I told you,” he replied sternly. “Tonight. If I want to.”

She huffed but obeyed. She surely wasn’t going to turn off the offer of sucking him, but the idea of having to wait longer to finally feel him inside her again was driving her insane. Also, she knew that if she acted like a brat more, he was probably going to make her wait for a week before she had sex with him again.

“Suck my cock,” he ordered after giving it a few strokes. “Show me what you were doing with your dildo in that video. You’d suck on anything.”

She started slowly, licking him all the way down to the base to get him wet before she wrapped her lips around his tip, sucking hard just there, making him groan.

“Don’t tease me,” Jeno warned, voice low and eyes glaring at her. “I don’t have time for that. If you — fuck — want my cock in your pussy tonight, you better don’t make me stay after hours.”

And that was enough to make her move up and down on his length.

“Shit,” he stuttered through gritted teeth, looking down at her, chest panting as he watched how focused she was on him. “Missed your mouth so much.”

Her hums vibrating around him made him push forward, catching her by surprise.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned when she started moving on him at a slow rhythm, his sensitive tip hitting the back of her throat with every bob of her head. “Always taking my cock so well.”

Her eyes looked up at him, smiling, her heart swelling with pride.

“You’re so good. Taking it all even if it’s so big. You love sucking me, don’t you?”

Hearing his words she started moving faster, cheeks hollowing all while she kept her eyes on him.

Jeno loved watching her going down on him. He loved seeing her eyes water and the endearing furrow that formed between her eyebrows.

“I won’t last longer,” he warned her. It had been a week even for him and he was extremely weak for her. “Fuck,” he groaned when she wrapped her hands around his base and started moving them while her lips sucked hard the first half of his cock. “Shit, shit, gonna come,” he groaned before his hips stilled and came into her mouth, head thrown back, eyebrows knitted together and mouth open, letting out groans and moans that only got her wetter and madder that she wasn’t going to get anything.

“Damn, babe,” Jeno sighed, gulping before helping her stand up, not minding about putting his cock back into his pants and kissing her. “I love you, you know?”

She hummed, slapping his ass playfully before walking back behind the desk, and pushing her skirt down.

“Running away from me after I gave you what you were begging for?”

“You didn’t give me what I wanted,” she replied, grabbing her discarded shirt on the chair and putting it on while Jeno fixed his clothes back in place.

“You can’t always get what you want,” he reminded her. “By the way, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit more for the big thing.”

“Until we go back home, yeah, I know,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Nope,” Jeno said. “My father invited me tonight to one of his clubs.”

“Oh,” she whispered, trying to don’t appear as disappointed as she was. Club nights weren’t anything crazy, it was just music and alcohol while boring businessmen — that weren’t as cool as her boyfriend —discussed their next moves and plans. “I thought we could at least spend some time together. I miss you, not only for the sex.”

“I know, and I miss you too, that’s why you’re coming with me.”

“With you? There?”

“I have no intention of listening to them talking about business for a whole night while drinking soju,” he said. “Also, if I leave you alone at home you might pull your dildo out again.”

She glared at him, but then shrugged off the last comment, making him chuckle. “I will be so out of place.” She didn’t mind spending time with him, but there? All they did was talk about economics, statistics and other things she didn’t care to listen to.

“You are never out of place,” Jeno reassured her, his attention once again on the computer as he cursed lowly because he had too many things to do. “Also, I bought you a new dress, you could use try it on tonight.”

“Another one? You don’t have to spoil me so much.”

“I love doing it,” he smiled. “And, back to my father... You can be the reason we can leave first.”

“Sure, so he and all his friends can hate me,” she rolled her eyes, already hating the idea.

“My father loves you, he won’t say a word. You know he only yells at me and not at you.”

“But we won’t be staying more than 30 minutes?” She begged.

“Fine, not more than 30 minutes.”

Being a brat wasn’t exactly what she loved to do, but she felt like she had no other chances when Jeno was barely paying her attention.

It had turned out that his father wasn’t even there, not for more than 10 minutes, and it was just a setup to make Jeno meet with some other businessmen in a less professional space to ‘get close to each other,’ or whatever, she truly couldn’t care.

And she couldn’t even be too touchy with him because he just wouldn’t pay attention. Too busy listening to what some old men had to say.

“Bored?” Jaemin asked, he was holding the cue stick as he stood next to the billiard table.

“What does it look like?” She huffed, fixing the hem of her dress to push it down again. The dress Jeno picked was beautiful, of course, it was, he had impeccable taste for everything but especially when he wanted to dress her up. But it was too short to even make her have a great time.

“Wanna play?” The blonde haired asked, cocking his head to the side to point at the green table.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you, come on,” Jaemin said, calling her to the other side where the white ball was.

She looked around for a second, hoping Jeno noticed her absence at his side and looked for her, but nothing at all. So she had just one last thing to try.

“It’s all about the body movement,” Jaemin started to explain, his body behind him, and she could see that he was trying to don’t get too close but that was what she needed if she wanted to have a reaction.

“Like this?” She asked, inclining her back, her ass brushing ‘accidentally’ against his thigh.

“Uhm, yeah, just uhm,” he mumbled, hand touching her back to fix her posture and then adjusting her fingers on the stick. “Here, that’s great. Hit the ball.”

“I did it!” She screamed when five of the other balls fell down the holes. Turning around with her arms raised before she wrapped them around Jaemin’s neck.

“See, you aren’t bad at all.”

Jeno heard her squeal and turned around, eyebrows furrowing for a second before he shrugged it off. She was just having fun and he didn’t mind if Jaemin kept her occupied while he tried to cut the conversation off with these men.

But that got on her nerves more. So she kept playing, getting touchier with Jaemin, feeling even a bit guilty for how he was visibly turned on by everything. She would’ve explained if she passed by him another day.

“Want to dance?” She asked, not really giving him a chance to complain by dragging him in the middle of the small dance floor.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea?” He chuckled awkwardly, briefly looking back at Jeno.

“Is it not? What is the music for if not for dancing?” Her hips started moving to the rhythm, her hands trailing up and down her body while she encouraged him to dance with her eyes.

Jaemin wanted to complain but then gave in, and grabbed her hand and in a second they were dancing close to each other.

It had to be an eye-catching situation, right? There was nobody else around them, nobody else had brought their wives — guessing by the average age — there.

“Your girlfriend is putting on a show,” a man commented and Jeno’s head snapped in their direction.

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, fists clenching under the table.

“She loves dancing,” he commented, a forced fake smile forming on his face as he turned to them. Trying to bring the conversation to their deals again because he couldn’t drag her out of there right there at the moment. He needed to pretend they had to go home because… because… he would’ve come up with an excuse, not that it mattered. It was none of their business why they were leaving. Still, he couldn’t make a scene.

But he could only last five more minutes because his eyes kept landing on them. Jaemin was doing his best to hold back, Jeno could see it, but her, on the other hand…

“It was lovely to meet you all, I hope we can see each other again to seal some deals,” Jeno greeted briefly, not even waiting for an answer before he got up and reached for her.

“Hi, darling,” he sang with a fake sweet tone, grabbing her wrist. “Having fun you two?”

“So much fun,” she replied before Jaemin could talk, but Jeno didn’t need to listen to his answer, he knew it wasn’t his fault, though he might’ve had a talk with him on Monday morning for some looks and touches he saw.

“Sorry but the fun it’s over,” he whispered against her ear. “Let’s go.”

The ride back home was silent. She was waiting for Jeno to talk but he didn’t say anything and the only word that came out of his mouth when they got inside was, ‘bedroom.’

And she knew exactly what it meant. Jeno wanted her to wait for him naked, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Weird.

She expected him to push her against the wall as soon as they were shielded from the outer world, but he didn’t, and she wondered what he had in mind.

Thinking about how she behaved for the last past week it was probably a punishment summed up with other three, if she was lucky.

When the door opened and Jeno stepped inside her eyes followed him silently, feet tapping against the floor as she was growing impatient.

And Jeno was growing impatient too, but he wasn’t going to fall for her games this time. He knew what she wanted, a reaction, a jealous one that lead to the hard sex she loved so much. But he didn’t need a reaction, he had nothing to be jealous about because she was his. No matter how much she was going around to tease him. No matter how many days they spent apart. Jeno had her wrapped around his fingers and he had nothing to worry about.

So he reached the armchair at the corner of their bedroom, giving her his back as he unbuckled his belt, making it run in the loops and removing it with a slap that made her stomach twist. He could feel the way her leg was nervously twitching and how her breathing was getting short. So he turned around, giving her more. His fingers moved slowly to unbutton his shirt, and even if his eyes were still lowered on the pavemente, he knew she was staring with attention, surely hating she wasn’t the one taking those clothes off of him. That was always her favourite part, getting him naked, running her hand on his skin, feeling him close, showing how desperate she was to feel him.

But there he was, standing naked in the corner of their bedroom, the only thing that was still on his body, the expensive watch. He wasn’t going to keep it on, right? She thought, hoping for that because she wasn’t so sure she could take it. But that night Jeno was doing all the opposite she was thinking about.

“I don’t like brats,” he said, an edge in his voice, as he walked in front of her. “And you know it.” When he stopped in front of her, she squirmed in her place, feeling so small compared to him. “So why do you love getting on my nerves? Why do you act like that?”

She opened her mouth but he shut her with two fingers on her lips.

“No, don’t answer. I know why. You think you can make me jealous, you think that acting like that, you will get a reaction from me. But have you ever thought that your plans might go wrong?”

She shook her head, biting her lips nervously.

“I told you getting my cock was already on the line, babe,” he whispered, hands roaming on her body touching her breasts, slowly reaching down on her tummy, before he caressed her thighs. “So why blow up the only chance you had?”

Her eyes snapped into his. He couldn’t do that…

“No — no,” she mumbled, truly shocked about that.

“Lay on the bed,” he simply ordered and she followed without blinking an eye this time. “Funny how you listen when you don’t want to make it worse, isn’t it?” He joked before he opened the closet and she already knew what was coming.

When he moved on the bed, it was to block her wrists and ankles in place. He was quick at moving her how he wanted, the cuffs clicking shut around one wrist before he did the same with the other. And then followed her ankles, stopped in place and parted from each other by the same purple spreader bar that was holding her hands in place.

“So pretty for me,” he praised, shifting on the bed, and rubbing a hand on her thigh. “Don’t think I’m cruel by the way. I have a gift for you,” he said, before pulling out from behind his back a small vibrator.

“I want you,” she cried, hips — the only part of her body she could move — bucking up in complaint.

“Should’ve thought about it first,” he reminded her, moving the toy to her lips to make her suck it, wetting it before he pushed it into her already soaked pussy. “You’re so wet it slipped in so fucking easily. God, not even punishments can put some sense in your brain.”

She didn’t answer, only looked at him silently, as he grabbed his phone, surely opening the app to control the toy.

“I’ll turn it on and you can’t come.”

“I can’t come?”

“You heard that,” he replied with a stern tone, not giving space for objections. “My fingers and my cock are the only things you’ll come on tonight. Oh, wait, you’re not going to have them,” he pouted before laughing wickedly and walking back to the armchair.

“Are you lea — fuck,” she cried when he turned it on without a warning.

The vibrations started slowly, and the rhythm was consistent, but the toy was so pushed inside of her that it was enough to make her back arch at the pleasurable sensation. Maybe at this pace, she could’ve held it in and just relaxed. That was what she thought until her eyes laid on Jeno. He was staring at her, eyes filled with lust and she knew that look, he wasn’t going to let her go tonight without fucking, there was no way he was torturing himself too. But right now he was doing everything possible to drive her insane.

His fist was wrapped around his cock, moving up and down slowly. And she couldn’t describe it with words but the fact that he had nothing on but that watch made her stomach twitch and her toes curl.

“Want to touch it?” He asked before letting out a low laugh when she nodded eagerly. “Want to suck me again?”

“Want it in me,” she cried, mouth slacked open when he raised the vibrations, faster and stronger this time, so much that she could feel them everywhere in her lower body and her eyes fell shut again.

“I told you,” Jeno whispered. “You should’ve thought about it before.”

“But please,” she pleaded, voice broken by the pleasure.

“Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he replied, voice firm as he slowed the vibrations, making her body relax again. But he had no intention of being sweet that night, so after a few minutes, he raised them again.

“Should we try all the pulsating functions this toy offers?” He asked, walking closer to the bed but still not touching her. “Oh, what about this one?”

“No,” she whimpered when the pulse changed.

“You don’t like it because it’s intermittent? You always want the most intense things:”

“This — this is intense,” she replied, throwing her head back. She hated the small pauses in between every buzz but the vibrations that lasted for only a few seconds were so strong that almost brought her close to the edge before stopping. It was a constant edging.

But Jeno enjoyed watching her squirm, mouth open and back arched, and thighs shaking as she tried to stay tensed up to don’t give in to her needs.

“I’ll pick another one,” he said, standing right in front of her at the end of the bed, smirking when his eyes laid in between her spread legs, cum dripping everywhere, sticking to her ass and creating a wet spot on the bed. “And if you last for more than five minutes without coming… you’ll get my cock.”

“Happy?” He asked when she nodded like a puppy but her smile dropped as soon as he picked the new speed. The highest.

“Jeno, no,” she cried, wrists struggling against the restrainers as her hips bucked up. “I can’t.”

“At least try,” he only replied. “I set the time so we can’t go wrong, baby. And don’t try to lie to me, I know how your body reacts when you come.”

She only hummed, trying to close her legs but the bar kept her wide open. And she really tried to don’t come but not even after two minutes, the orgasm exploded, body squirming against the bedsheets and loud moans coming out of her mouth followed by curses as the vibrations didn’t stop.

“You just can’t listen,” Jeno mocked, his hand slapping the side of her thigh, making her open her eyes. “Don’t look at me with those wide eyes. I’m starting to think you don’t want me tonight.”

“I do, I — I do, please, turn it off. It’s too much.”

“Is it?” He cooed, changing the rhythm again but it wasn’t any better. “Planned of coming home and fucking you nice all night just like you’ve been dreaming about all week, but no, you had to prolong your suffering. You had to make me teach you a lesson, remind you how to listen.”

“Please,” she still pleaded, knowing it was useless.

“No, baby, keep it in and don’t come. I should’ve trained you before you turned into a brainless brat.”

“Don’t — don’t you want me?” She tried to win him in another way but the only answer she got was a mocking laugh that made her whine even more.

“You have two minutes left,” he warned. “I’m giving you one last chance, baby. If you fuck it up, you won’t get anything tonight.”

She hummed, a groan slipped past her lips when he picked the same speed as before but she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on it. Even trying to think about things that turned her off, anything to don’t lose the last chance she got. Jeno was pissed and she wasn’t so sure that his want to have her was bigger than the want of teaching her a lesson, at this point.

And somehow she succeeded. When the vibrations came to a stop she started breathing normally again, her body going limp against the bed and shoulders letting go of the tension.

“So you can listen when you want to,” Jeno commented while his hands caressed her body before he reached between her legs and pulled the toy out, leaving it on the bedside table.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said when he moved to free her from the spreaders. “You still don’t deserve praises. Make it up and then maybe I’ll praise you.”

“Come here,” he ordered, patting the edge of the bed.

“I — wait,” she said, feeling too tired to stand up.

Jeno rolled his eyes, walking around the bed again to hoist her up and place her where he wanted her. “Can’t even walk now, imagine once I’m done with you.” He sat on the bed and sat her on his thighs, her eyes widened when she realized they were sitting right in front of the mirror.

“What, baby? Surprised? I want you to see how desperate you are.”

“I want you.”

“I know you do,” he said, spreading her legs, planting her feet on his thighs, exposing her once again.

“What —”

“Stop asking,” he replied, growling before he kissed her hard. “Do you need to know what I’ll do to you? Acting as if you wouldn’t enjoy anything I give to you?”

She shook her head.

“What I thought,” he snickered before his fingers pushed into her pussy. “You’re already a mess.”

Her head rolled back against his shoulder but Jeno’s fingers immediately wrapped in her hair to force her head up. “Eyes on the mirror, baby. You love my fingers so much you will watch when they fuck you how you want to.”

“But I want you.”

“Stop begging before I change my mind again,” he reminded her, fingers thrusting faster inside of her. The sight was filthy but she couldn’t take her eyes off of there. It was too hot, the way they curled deep into her, pressing exactly where she wanted him, pumping the cum out of her that rolled in drops on his slender, bony hands. The rings hitting against her skin and adoring his fingers just making everything hotter as he thrust them inside at a firm speed. She couldn’t even be embarrassed at the dirty squelching sounds.

But when Jeno pushed her legs closer to her body she felt a different sensation build up. His fingers were angled even more perfectly now, hitting her sweet spot with precision, and increasingly going faster. And before she could even warn him, it got too much. The tension exploded in an orgasm that shook her body from head to toe, tight walls pulsing around his fingers before her squirt started spurting out of her, making her gasp and squirm, trying to make it stop but Jeno shushed her.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised. “That’s what I wanted from you. Keep doing it.”

At his words, she relaxed more, shame still eating her alive as her cum hit the mirror and stained it, slowly rolling down to meet the floor.

“Fuck,” she cried when the sensation slowed down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for this?” He chuckled. “You should be sorry for the way you behave, instead.”

Right, he was still pissed.

“I’m sorry, Jeno,” she apologized. “I promise, I won’t act like a brat anymore. I’ll be good.”

He only hummed before kissing her briefly. “Get on the bed,” he ordered and her legs were swift — well, for what she could since she could barely feel them — at pushing her body on the bed. “Not like this,” he said, clicking his tongue, hands signaling her to turn around. “Face to the mirror, on your hands and knees. Now.”

In a second she was how he wanted her, ass arched up, inviting him to give her what she craved for so much.

“Don’t tease me,” she cried when he started rubbing the tip of his cock against her entrance and her clit before slapping it on her pussy.

“You talk about not teasing?” He hummed, pushing the fat tip in, stretching her slit but not pushing further. “You know why you’re lucky? Because I want you too much to be mad at you,” he groaned, pushing in completely, yanking her body forward with a single strong stroke. “You drive me insane but I can’t resist you.”

She smirked, as her eyes rolled in the back of her head at the sensation of being filled by him again.

“Don’t fucking smirk,” he growled, wrapping a hand around her neck to lift her up, her back pushed against his chest as his hips slammed against her ass. “Here, keep my fingers in your mouth since you — fuck — since you love them so much.”

“Fuck,” she hummed around his digits, sucking them.

“Look at you,” he moaned, meeting her eyes through the reflecting surface. “I didn’t even start with you and here you are.”

Her eyes rolled back, nails digging into his skin as she held herself up.

“Happy now?” He asked, pulling his fingers out and pushing her down against the mattress. “That was what you — fuck — wanted. Does my cock feel good, baby?”

“Yeah, so — so good,” she mumbled, pushing her face into the sheets before Jeno yanked her up by the air.

“I said, don’t you take your eyes off of me,” he groaned against her ear, pressing her flat against the mattress with his body, only keeping her head up. “I want you to keep in mind that none else can see you like this. Nobody can turn you into the mess you want to be turned into. Not even your fingers or — fuck — your toys.”

“Yes, only you,” she blabbered, forcing her eyes to stay open as the pleasure started to overwhelm her again. It had only been a week but it felt like ages without feeling him. His thick cock was stretching her so good, veins rubbing against her wet walls and balls slapping against her clit, making her head get dizzy.

“You have no — fuck — no idea for how long I waited to have you,” he moaned, standing up again, holding her head with a firm hold, and pounding harder into her. “Could’ve — fuck — had you right when we came back home but no — fuck — you just don’t know when to stop.”

“Bet you fucked yourself all week — fuck — thinking it was my cock, didn’t you? And what did I have? Nothing.”

Her eyes fell shut again but the tug at her hair made her open them again.

“You look so pretty when I fuck you like this,” he groaned before he grabbed her wrists and locked them behind her back. “Can you keep your head up without your hands, baby?” He teased, watching as she tried her best to still follow his orders, eyes looking into the mirror with a desperate pleading look and he knew exactly what it meant. She was close but had no intention to make it finish so soon.

“Ca-can,” she whimpered, biting her lips.

“No, babe,” he said, holding her wrist with just one hand, slamming her body against his with force, arms flexing at the tension he was putting on his muscles. “I want to hear you moan. I want to hear your whimpers and moans and — fuck — and curses. Just for me. Come on, louder.”

So she did, letting go, not trying to keep quiet.

“That’s it, pretty. Love hearing you be so eager for me. So eager for my cock.”

“Jeno, harder," she pleaded, the beg followed by more desperate sounds.

“Harder than this?" He asked with a smirk on his face. “Can you take it?”

“Yes, yes, please. I — I can take it all.”

“I hope you do,” he groaned, letting go of her wrist to lean against her, his fingers pushing into her mouth again. “Suck them, baby," he ordered, voice hitting her ear while his lust gazed eyes stared right into her soul through the mirror. “Good girl. Suck them just like that. You love them so much don’t you? It doesn’t matter where they are buried deep into you,” he mocked, pushing them against her tongue, making her gag, “as long as they are inside you. Such a selfish little girl.”

“I’m close,” she whimpered around them, nails digging into the sheets as she felt another orgasm build up in her body. He was thrusting into her so fucking hard, releasing all the pent-up tension of the week, hips snapping against her ass creating lewd sounds, while his other hand was holding tight around her waist, surely leaving marks on her skin.

“Come here,” he moaned, lifting her up. “Since you love my hands so much — fuck — feel them, feel them around your neck.”

She let out muffled moans when his hand wrapped around her neck holding her up while the other moved forward to play with her clit. Head rolling back at the sensation of his thumb caressing the side of her neck, eyes almost crossing when the fingers on her clit started moving faster.

“Yeah, you like that,” Jeno groaned, watching with a smirk as she smiled with a fucked out expression, completely lost in pleasure, just how he wanted. “The prettiest necklace around your pretty neck, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, fuck,” she whimpered.

“Gonna fill you up,” he warned her, head falling against her shoulder as he got closer and closer to his climax. “Do you want it, baby?”

“Yes, yes, please, Jeno,” she moaned, body twitching as she felt him fill her up, their orgasms washing over at the same time. But he didn’t stop.

“Gonna give you another one,” he groaned, freeing her neck, pressing her body against the mattress again, shielding it with his. His thrusts hitting deeper and harder. “Gonna give you all I kept for you — fuck — for a week.”

“Mmph,” she whimpered, squeezing her eyes close, chest panting hardly.

“Will you take it? Will you be a good girl and take another load?” He asked, voice coming out more hoarse and low as he pushed himself over the limit.

“Yes, want it all. Please, fill me — fuck — fill me full of you.”

“That’s it,” he whispered, biting her earlobe before he stuck his face in the crook of his neck and kissed her on her sweet spot, eyebrows knitted from the pleasure. “Take it all, baby. Come with me — fuck — one last time. Fuck,” he moaned lowly, hips rolling against with a last strong push.

She moaned loudly when they came at the same time, feeling his cum fill her again and squeeze out with every lazy pump he gave her as he rode both of their orgasms, dripping down between her legs and staining the sheets.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, chest panting hard against her back, lips kissing her face while his thumb rubbed circles on her hip. “You good?”

She hummed, eyes blinking slowly as she came down from the high.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Jeno praised, pulling out of her slowly, getting lost in the way his cum was dripping out her swollen pussy. Two fingers running on her slit to push it back inside, plugging them deep, feeling her insides twitch in overstimulation before he pulled them out, letting his seed drip down on her thighs.

“Open up,” he ordered, waiting for her to part her lips and lick his fingers clean. “Good girl,” he whispered before kissing her again. “Took so many orgasms, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose and then leaving a peck on her lips that made her giggle.

“So, did you learn to don’t act like a brat anymore?” He asked, caressing her back gently.

She chuckled. “If you fuck me like this how can I don’t be a brat?”

Jeno rolled his eyes before laughing. “You truly will never learn.”

“Oh, please, as if you mind.”

“I told you, I love you too much to be mad about it.”

She smiled proudly before she reached for his hands and started caressing them.

Jeno smirked as he watched as she trailed the paths of his veins and played with the rings and the watch. “So this thing for my hands is serious?”

“Can you blame me? Look at how pretty they are. They are so delicate and yet so strong, and they’re soft.”

“Mhh, yeah? Think I should use them more often?”

“You definitely should,” she winked. “On me, of course,” she added with a ‘menacing’ furrow on her face.

Jeno laughed. “Of course, baby. Only you,” he replied, leaving another kiss on her lips. “And I think I should start using them right now.”

“Another round?” She asked in surprise.

“No, honey,” he reassured her, caressing her cheek. “To clean you up in the shower. Do you like the idea?” He asked, but he had already lifted her up and was carrying her to their big bathroom. “If you want, I’ll even wash your hair.”

“So you can massage my scalp?”

“Mhh, mhh, I think you deserve it. So? Are you in?”

“I love it.”

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about it if you want to ♡

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