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joelmillerisapunk · 17 days

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Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

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Wordcount: 7,103 - oops

Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.

Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel’s never been on a site like this.

But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism.

With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it.

As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth.

Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.

His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?

Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.

For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos. But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.

Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you.

Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.

Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once.

Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.

—

A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.

When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.

Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."

You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"

You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."

You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.

You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."

You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."

As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”

As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you.

As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.

He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin.

He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier.

A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.

you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?

He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.

You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips.

you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏

You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it.

cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this.

You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.

cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.

you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.

cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.

you: I can't wait.

As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.

—

As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this.

You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ

The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.

With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.

you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉

You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.

Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.

cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?

you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉

You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.

cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.

you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏

cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.

You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!

cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’

what I'm about to send you.

you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉

cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘

As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.

The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.

You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response

you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.

As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.

cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.

You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own.

you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉

cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.

As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.

The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

—

As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.

Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief

"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”

You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”

Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.

You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”

Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.

Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”

Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction.

As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.

You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.

With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.

He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.

As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."

You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.

As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.

The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.

Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.

You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."

Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.

Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.

You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."

Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.

You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.

"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?"

“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."

"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”

Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.

You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.

"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”

With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.

—

The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.

He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.

Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties.

Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.

And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.

“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."

Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.

"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.

Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.

He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.

"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”

Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.

Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.

"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.

"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."

With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.

As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."

Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing.

“You're gonna make me come.”

You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.

The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.

You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."

With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.

"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"

Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms.

As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"

Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."

You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."

Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.

"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.

You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.

Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.

For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.

Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"

Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."

You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding.

Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."

Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.

Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”

You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."

You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.

As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.

You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.

Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.

Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."

You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.

As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.

When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.

Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."

Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?

Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.

Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."

Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."

You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"

He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."

With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.

As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."

You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”

And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again.

Special taglist for @milla-frenchy 😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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fragileheartbeats · 4 months

Text

⌗ 𝘑𝘑𝘒 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘊𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 ( ♡ )

— 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘠𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢, 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶, 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪, 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰, 𝘠𝘶𝘵𝘢, 𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 | 五条悟 ─ 𓇼

1. When you absentmindedly play with the ends of your hair when you're concentrating.

2. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're thinking hard about something.

3. How you get flustered and blush when receiving a genuine compliment.

4. Your tendency to hum or sing softly while doing everyday tasks.

5. The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒恵 ─ 𔒌

1. The way you get a little flustered when someone notices the effort you put into something.

2. How you always seem to know the right thing to say to make someone feel better.

3. Your love for taking care of plants and creating small indoor gardens.

4. Your habit of leaving little surprises or treats for the people you care about.

5. The way you express your affection through acts of service and support.

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 | 虎杖悠仁 ─ 𓐐𓎩

1. The way you scrunch up your face when you're trying to hold back a laugh.

2. How you always seem to know when someone needs a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on.

3. Your fondness for baking and sharing homemade goodies with others.

4. Your habit of sending uplifting and encouraging messages to your friends.

5. The way you light up a room with your infectious enthusiasm and positivity.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 | 宿儺 ─ 𓇢𓆸

1. The way you pout when you're upset about something small.

2. Your habit of tucking a strand of hair behind your ear when you're nervous.

3. How you always seem to find and befriend stray animals.

4. Your contagious laughter that makes others around you smile.

5. The way you hold onto a stuffed toy when you're feeling down or sleepy.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 | 七海建人 ─ ☘︎

1. The way you furrow your brow when you're deep in thought.

2. How you always remember the little details about the people you care about.

3. Your fondness for making and sharing comfort food with others.

4. Your habit of giving thoughtful and meaningful gifts for no particular occasion.

5. The way you express your affection through small, sincere gestures.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 | 夏油傑 ─ 𓆉

1. How you unconsciously tap your foot or fidget when you're excited.

2. Your habit of leaving little notes or surprises for others to find.

3. The way you get a bit flustered when someone shows you unexpected kindness.

4. Your love for collecting and pressing flowers from different places you visit.

5. The way you carefully listen to others and offer genuine empathy.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒甚爾 ─ 𓆤

1. The way you absentmindedly play with a pendant or necklace when lost in thought.

2. How you have a soft spot for taking care of injured or sick animals.

3. Your love for stargazing and your fascination with constellations.

4. Your habit of offering a reassuring touch when someone is feeling down or anxious.

5. The way your face lights up when you see someone you care about succeed.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 | 脹相 ─ 𖤣𖥧

1. The way you unconsciously hold onto someone's arm when you're feeling nervous.

2. How you always seem to know when someone needs a comforting hug.

3. Your love for creating and sharing handmade crafts with others.

4. Your habit of leaving encouraging notes for people to find when they need a pick-me-up.

5. The way your eyes sparkle when you're in a happy and content mood.

𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 | 乙骨憂太 ─ ✉

1. The way you absentmindedly doodle on scraps of paper when you're lost in thought.

2. How you always seem to notice when someone is feeling left out and include them in conversations.

3. Your love for taking care of injured or abandoned plants and helping them thrive.

4. Your habit of sharing your favorite books and stories with others.

5. The way your smile can instantly brighten someone's day.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 | 狗巻棘 ─ ♬

1. The way you express your excitement through subtle but endearing gestures.

2. How you always seem to know when someone needs a comforting presence.

3. Your love for creating and sharing playlists that capture different moods and emotions.

4. Your habit of offering a reassuring pat on the back when someone needs encouragement.

5. The way you show your care and affection through unconventional methods of communication.

MASTERLIST

@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

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kingofbodyrolls · 3 months

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Say I Do (m) | jjk

Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)

AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au

Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

Word count: 5,2k

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).

Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘

Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜

This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜

Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).

This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨

Fancy reading on AO3? 😉

Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story.

As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.

Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.

The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck.

You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell.

A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.

What the fuck is Taehyung saying?

Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.

Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.

Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.

He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.

In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion.

As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.

Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table.

The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips.

With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests.

Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression.

As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown.

The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences.

Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.

In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes.

Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment.

Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.

Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.

The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.

“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook.

Fuck.

All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you.

Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends?

In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.

With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention.

Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests.

As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere.

Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.

Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy.

Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek.

Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.

Fucking hell he’s gonna come.

Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated.

Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.

Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm.

As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.

Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.

With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants.

With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.

But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx.

–

As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.

Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness.

He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass.

Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.

As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”

He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss.

As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.

In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you.

“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.

The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips.

You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins.

Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.

Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.

In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.”

The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body.

Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing.

Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.

Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold.

With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric.

“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.

His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit.

The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.

He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.

His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.

With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers.

Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.

He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp.

“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.

As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence.

His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall.

In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more.

With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?”

The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.

“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.

With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two.

“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves.

With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.

He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix.

“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!”

You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.

As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.

He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too.

His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him.

In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot.

“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.

“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment.

As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.

Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction.

“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.

As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins.

Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.

“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.

“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo.

Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels.

“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.

“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.

You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.

He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”

“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.

“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.

The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy.

Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.

With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.

“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.

He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.

Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜

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lordofdestructionm · 6 months

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Wick Sable

The odd duck in the guilded cage

Despite this being a feral Mordecai and Viktor account I do occasionally like to dig into the others.

Wick is a character Lackadaisy fans love but don't talk about very much. He just the rich friendly geologist with a love of illicit beverages and a crush on Mitzi. Indeed he is all those things. But I want to dig a little into what may be hidden depth (geography joke haha)

Professional dissatisfaction

When we first meet Wick he is behind his desk looking very tired and beaten down. Forcing himself to keep working late into the night with excessive coffee. Attending to a large pile of paper work for tomorrow.

His expression shifts slightly when he sees the Lackadaisy pins fall out of the envelope and realises the letter is an invitation to him (and his fellow aristocrats) to the speakeasy.

This hatred of paper work and the administrative side of his business is a recurring issue for Wick. Making the reason for his reliance on the capable and attentive Lacy very obvious. Exhaustian and too much alchohol are no doubt partly to blame, but it seems to be something that puts him in a very depressed state of mind.

But when actually on the job, overseeing the hands on work of blasting a new quarry, his mood is much more positive. Indeed he has a very real and sincere love for geology and the nitty gritty work of his business. When he first went to the Lackadaisy he was spellbound by the lime caverns themselves as much by Mitzi's charm.

Its his special interest and he will go on long unprompted monologues on the topic if given the chance. Meaning it is specifically the being trapped in his office dealing with the red tape that makes him so unhappy not the industry itself.

Its almost sad that he is the one in charge of the company rather than in a role that puts him closer to the action which seems to bring him real joy. Like someone who loves cooking being in charge of a restuarant or someone that loves drawing running an animation studio.

They love the product/industry but that doesn't mean they enjoy their specific place in it.

Unimpressed Peers

Despite Wicks enthusiasm it proves not be infectious with his fellow elite, who complain about being dragged out of town to watch something, that while very important to Wick, they clearly could not care less about (even not that quietly mocking him and his love for rocks and construction)

When the evening doesn't go to plan due to the uninvited pig farmers Wick has an interesting exchange with Edmund Church, seemingly the most prominent of the St Louis upper crust in the group. Warning him about getting any more involved with an unsavoury crowd, especially Mitzi, outside of simply enjoying the occasional drink.

Wick doesn't take kindly to the snarky criticism and borderline threat to his reputation and responds with a much more direct statement on his peers sour nature

Tracy has mentioned that Church has a role yet to play in the story and it seems safe to assume from this it may well involve Wick in a less than friendly way if he continues to associate with his "lessers" as Church and the others see things.

Despite needing to remain on civil terms to keep them invested in his business, Wick clearly has little love for them, a feeling that is mutual as they have little respect for him and see him as an oddball, only tolerating him because his talent in his field can help make them a tidy profit.

But while he doesn't appreciate Church's sniping Wick IS concerned about his reputation, but not entirely for his own sake or that of his elitist associates, but for the many people who rely on him for employment, who could be hurt by extension of he gets pulled too deep into the less than repectable world of bootlegging

Romantic life

Outside of the crush he has had on Mitzi since first meeting her at the Speakeasy, we have very little information about Wicks love life before this. Being a handsome and wealthy gentleman from a good family, you would think he would he fighting women off with a stick, maybe even be a bit of a playboy.

Instead you get the impression Wick is pretty far away from being a ladies man. Mentioning to Mitzi that he doesn't even really know how to talk to women unless its about rocks, bugs or limestone.

He is clearly attracted to her and is tempted by her to risk his reputation and by extension his business to get closer to her, but so far his fear of the very real consequences are deterring him from taking that gamble.

Though there is that personal aspect to it, it seems that in a more abstract sense Mitzi's appeal to Wick is not just in her beauty and seductive personality, but in the excitement and thrill of her Speakeasy and bootlegging operations.

In that sense Mitzi represents that touch of danger and excitement that during prohibition many otherwise law abiding citizens enjoyed indulging in illegal drinking establishments. Being* just* naughty enough to give them a fun thrill while being detached from the more brutal blood soaked aspects.

Wick is a good natured person (the worst thing he has done is shoot a duck in his youth which he was forced to do) living a very "respectable" life, but that makes the superficial glamour of the world of underground drinking establishments and secret booze stashes even more appealing. Thats why despite his concerns and responsibilities he keeps going back ,not just to Mitzi, but to the Lackadaisy specifically. It has pretty geography, a pretty owner, and an open door to a more exciting avenue of life

Its for that same reason he doesn't seem to be overly uncomfortable with lovable bi disaster Zib flirting with him at the bar. He may have no intention of reciprocating, but it couldn't be a more different experience to the world he is used to

Even if he doesn't yet want to take the full plunge it all excites him enough to keep him circling the edges.

Because despite having so much going for him there are things about his life that not only bore him but make him unhappy. Whether its piles of paperwork, dealing with much stuffier "conventional" fellow aristocrats and not wanting to be like them, or just a general lack of true passion in his life, he is clearly a man looking for something more satisfying

Whether or not he remains a "tourist" or decides to take that gamble, throw his reservations to the wind, and take a more active role in the gang, is yet to be seen...

Assuming Rocky doesn't set fire to him first of course XD

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lxndonorris · 2 months

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a paddock affair - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Fluff Lando introduces you to part of the paddock x mentions of Max, Carlos, Charles, Oscar and Daniel word count: 1200+ taglist: @game-set-canet requested by anonymous :) hope you like it. gif by me;

As the sun is shining brightly, casting its golden ray upon the Melbourne skyline, you find yourself standing outside the gates of the prestigious Formula 1 paddock, hand in hand with Lando, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves.

It had been a whirlwind romance since you first met a few months ago, and now Lando was inviting you into his world, the heart of the F1 action.

"Lando, I'm really nervous," you confess, tugging at the collar of your Mclaren team jacket, a piece of clothing that now holds sentimental value beyond its sleek design.

Lando squeezes your hand reassuringly, his trademark grin lighting up his face.

"Don't worry, love. You'll be great. Everyone's going to love you."

With his comforting words, you make your way into the paddock, where the air is alive with the hum of engines and the chatter of mechanics and drivers preparing for the weekend ahead.

Your first stop is to meet Lando's good friend and teammate turned rival, Carlos Sainz. As you approach, Carlos looks up from his conversation with a mechanic, and his face breaks into a wide smile.

"Lando! And who's this lovely lady?" Carlos greets you, his Spanish accent laced with warmth.

"This is Y/N, Carlos. My girlfriend." Lando introduces you proudly with a shy smile playing on his lips.

Carlos extends his hand, and you shake it, feeling a rush of gratitude for his friendly demeanor. Lando stands by your side, his comforting touch a constant reassurance; his hand strokes the small of your back, a subtle yet comforting gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I must say, you look great in that Mclaren gear," he motions to the jacket Land gave you a few days prior. "You're practically part of the team already."

You blush at the compliment, feeling a sense of belonging wash over you as you exchange pleasantries before Carlos gets called away to attend to his duties in the garage.

Next, you encounter Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc engaged in an animated discussion. Their laughter echoes through the paddock as they reminisce about the last race. As you approach, they exchange knowing smirks before Charles excuses himself, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

Max bounds over to you, his infectious energy filling the air. "Well, well, well, Lando, you sly dog! Hiding your girlfriend from us, eh?"

Lando rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, Max. This is Y/N, by the way."

Max shakes your hand enthusiastically. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Don't worry, we won't give Lando too much trouble... maybe."

Their banter is like music to your ears, easing your nerves and making you feel like a part of the tight-knit F1 family. Amidst the lively banter and laughter, Lando's presence anchors you as the grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

After Max excuses himself as well, Oscar Piastri joins your little group. You had met him before, and he greeted you with a warm smile, genuine concern evident in his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Excited?" Oscar asks, his Australian accent adding a touch of familiarity to the conversation.

"Excited doesn't even begin to cover it," you reply, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Lando wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "Come on, let's take a stroll through the paddock. I want to show you everything."

As you wander through the bustling paddock, Lando points out the intricacies of the garages, the sleek motorhomes where the drivers and teams strategize, and the various anemities that make the F1 experience truly one-of-a-kind.

With each step, your anxiety melts away, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe at the world Lando inhabited.

At the same time, your eyes can't help but wander to Lando, taking in every detail. His Mclaren shirt hugs his lean frame perfectly, the familiar papaya orange contrasting beautifully against his sun-kissed skin. The casual elegance of his outfit, paired with jeans that fit just right, only serves to enhance his natural charm.

But it is his curly hair that always captivates you the most. Each unruly lock seems to have a mind of its own, framing his face in a way that is both effortlessly cool and undeniably endearing. Every time a stray curl falls across his forehead, your heart skips a beat, reminding you just how lucky you are to be by his side.

"Lando, your hair looks amazing today." You can't help but gush, reaching up to tuck a wayward curl behind his ear.

He grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Thanks, love. It's a constant battle trying to tame these ecurls, but I'm glad you like them."

You smile and caress Lando's cheek, marveling at the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips. His stubble tickles you ever so slightly, but you welcome the sensation, relishing in the intimacy of your moment together.

"I love your beard, Lando," you murmur, tracing the contours of his jawline with your thumb. "It suits you so well."

A hint of surprise flickers in his eyes before a sheepish grin spreads across his face. "You do? I wasn't sure if I should keep it or not."

You nod emphatically, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Definetly keep it. It makes you look even more handsome, if that's even possible."

His laughter echoes through the air around you, filling you with warmth and contentment.

Lost in your quiet moment, a familiar voice breaks through the serenity around you. "Hey there, mate."

Startled, you turn to see Daniel Ricciardo approaching you, already donning his racing suit with that siganture grin plastered across his face.

Before Lando can react, Daniel reaches out and playfully pokes his sides, causing him to burst into giggles.

"Hey, Danny." Lando exclaims, returning the gesture with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Trying to distract me before training, huh?"

Daniel chuckles, his charm undeniable, as he joins you. "You know me, mate. Always up for a bit of fun."

Lando's arm finds its way around your waist, pulling you close, giving you comfort.

You fall into easy conversation, chatting about racing and sharing anecdotes from past experiences on the track. Daniel's enthusiasm is infectious, and soon enough, you are all laughing like old friends reunited.

After a while, Daniel excuses himself, a glint of determination in his eyes, as he prepares to focus on the upcoming race weekend. "Well, it's been great catching up, but duty calls. See you both later."

With a wave and a parting smile, he disappears into the bustling crowd, leaving behind a lingering sense of camaraderie that warms your heart.

You turn your head to find Lando looking at you, a warm smile forming on his lips.

"Lando," you say softly, overcome with emotion, "thank you for bringing me into the paddock."

A tender smile graces his lips as he gently caresses your cheek. "You did amazing, Y/N; I'm proud of you."

His words fill you with warmth, and as he leans in to kiss you, you feel a rush of love and affection wash over you, knowing that with Lando by your side, there is nothing you can't face together.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fluff

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slytherinslut0 · 7 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Five-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, Threats of Violence, Jealousy, Toxic Behaviours, Possessive Behaviours, Mentions of GunPoint (enchanted gun but still), Italian, Flirty!Theodore!Nott, Angst, Sexual Tension.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"I don't know about this, Em..."

Giggles danced through the air, originating from your blonde companion, currently immersed in a thorough investigation of your shared closet. Her voice, laced with amusement, murmured something indecipherable, the words muffled by the solidity of the wooden door. A long sigh escaped your lips, a potent release of pure exasperation.

"This is crazy," you muttered to yourself. "Nott is going to need an entire bloody medical team when he catches sight of me..."

The enchanting red dress, a gem sourced from a privy boutique in Hogsmeade under Mattheo's explicit direction, molded itself to every contour as you confronted your reflection in the mirror. As your eyes traversed the fabric's journey, or rather, the lack thereof--there was no escaping the undeniable truth; the dress was exquisitely tight, sparing no nuance of your silhouette to the imagination.

"Doubt he'll even get the chance..." Emily replied, finally reemerging from the closet, "lover boy will likely claim his head the moment he fixes his gaze on you for too long."

Emily's cheeky response added a layer of playful anticipation to the charged atmosphere, earning an exaggerated eye roll from you in response as you fought hard to suppress your smirk.

When you'd embarked on the hunt for the ideal dress, you had brought Emily along for her valuable opinion. As your gaze fell upon this specific piece, uncertainty gripped you, convinced it might be a touch excessive. Yet, Emily staunchly opposed that notion. Her unwavering belief in its perfection became a contagion, subjecting you to prolonged minutes of relentless persuasion. Gradually, her infectious enthusiasm chipped away at your resistance until, inevitably, you succumbed--reluctantly handing over Mattheo's gifted galleons.

"And do I truly wish to burden my conscience with the death of the schools most popular Italian playboy? And not to mention Riddle's certain Azkaban sentence...all but a couple months from graduation?" you deadpanned, fingers instinctively rising to massage your temples in an attempt to alleviate the burgeoning headache. "Maybe I should just borrow something from your-"

"Absolutely not," Emily interjected, her voice cutting through your proposal with firm decisiveness. She approached you, a sparkle in her eyes, and added, "you look perfect. Trust me on this."

Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Emily's irises shimmered with a warm reassurance. She adjusted her flowy emerald green dress, a garment she had acquired at Tom's request--they were going to the masquerade together, though the status of their relationship still remained uncertain.

Emily, ever the advocate of going with the flow, a concept apparently foreign to Tom, said she wasn't in any rush to make things official, understanding that perhaps it would look a tad bit odd for him to start dating her after he'd just paraded you around to all of his friends, merely less than a few weeks go.

And as a result of this, you and Emily had a long, in depth heart-to-heart conversation where you made sure to unravel any lingering issues--the liberating honesty and the comfort of having someone in your corner again felt tangible. Although initially perturbed by the extended secrecy, Emily eventually grasped the rationale behind your discretion, acknowledging the protective measures taken for yourself and your desired career.

The depth of your longstanding friendship played a pivotal role in fostering this understanding, and you'd never been more thankful to have such a wonderful, supportive friend in your life.

"What do you think Michael will do when he spots you wearing traitor colours?" you teased, an impish grin playing on your lips as you watched Emily fix her long blonde hair, adjusting herself in the reflection.

"I reckon he'll be rather unamused," she snorted, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But he'll be in for a real surprise when he sees you cozying up with Theodore Nott, the traitor extraordinaire."

"Cozying up with Theodore?" you retorted with a smirk, feigning innocence. "Absolutely not, I just recently cleared my conscience, I intend on keeping it that way."

"I wouldn't underestimate the Italian playboy; word on the street is he can be quite insistent..." Emily spun back around to face you, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "My suggestion is that you tell him about Mattheo before he unwittingly finds himself sharing a bed with Berkshire."

Your expression sank, and a twist formed in your stomach. "Oh, gods, Emily, I need to change," you exclaimed, spinning around and making a beeline for the closet. "Surely there's a garbage bag or your grandmas old moo-moo hidden in here that I could wear instead, right?"

Emily's sudden snort echoed through the room, reverberating far louder than you'd expected. With swift precision, she wielded her wand, slamming the closet door shut before you could reach it.

"Come on, it's going to be fun," she teased, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Give those cocky Slytherin boys an experience they've never had before. Making them squirm is a rare opportunity--after all, they're not used to being denied anything."

You hesitated, a reluctant smile crawling across your face at her words as you silently considered the prospect. Mattheo had always made it abundantly clear that girls were typically within arm's reach for him, and he could have anyone he desired. The idea of driving him to the brink tonight, knowing he couldn't do a thing about it after explicitly instructing Theodore to ask you, ignited a rebellious spark within you.

"Alright, but this better not turn into a disaster," you responded, your internal thoughts dancing between uncertainty and a subtle thrill. "If the mafia comes after me because I smacked their most prized possession, I'm blaming you."

"You look fucking hot. Own it," she encouraged, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Turning her attention to the door, a sudden realization struck her. "I've got to run. Promised Michael I'd help him with his bloody tie--but don't forget to check the mail. Something arrived for you earlier."

With a swift goodbye, she whisked away, grabbing her matching emerald green eye mask, leaving you to contemplate the mysterious package. Not one to dawdle, you approached the table by the door, spotting a small brown box with your name inscribed on it.

With eager anticipation, you unwrapped the package, unveiling a stunningly bejeweled red mask. A note accompanied the alluring accessory, bearing the cryptic message:

"Something about me, I fucking hate the colour yellow."

A smirk played on your lips as you extracted the exquisite gift from its velvet cradle. The crimson mask lay in your hands, a stunning creation adorned with gemstones that caught and reflected the light with each subtle movement. Blush flooded your cheeks as you approached the mirror, slipping the mask on. Turning your head in every direction, you marveled at the way it enhanced your features, making you feel like a mysterious enchantress.

The beauty of the mask was beyond words, and even though the logical part of you knew it had to be from Mattheo, the sheer magnificence of the gift made it feel almost surreal.

After what felt like an eternity lost in the mirror, admiring the stunning mask, the realization hit that you needed to meet Theodore. He'd mentioned waiting for you at the entrance to your common room, so as swiftly as possible, you adjusted your dress, attempting to cover up your chest, and gracefully slipped out of your room, navigating the familiar halls with a sense of purpose.

The chilled corridor welcomed you as you emerged, and after a brief moment of searching, there, like an awakening spell, you spotted Theo--and your stomach nearly leapt into your chest at the sight of him.

"Holy shit, Nott...are you...are you actually wearing enemy colors?" Your jaw dropped as you beheld Theodore in a Ravenclaw blue suit, a sight you'd never expected in a million years. "Hold still, I need to take a bloody picture of this."

Theo's arrogant response came with a sly smirk, his dark eyes tracing hungrily over your figure. He stood before you in a pristine suit, accompanied by matching vest, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath. The ensemble was adorned with exquisite gold links and buttons, showcasing his impeccable taste. His confident demeanour suggested that he indeed cleaned up more than nicely, and this was only a slight indication of his professionalism.

"Sure, have your laughs," he quipped, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. His eyes moved deliberately, scanning the curves of your figure. "Enjoy the view while it lasts, little bird. This suit's debut is a one-time thing—I might just set it ablaze once the night is over."

"Well you certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?..." you teased, grin stretching past your ears as you took another step closer. "How honoured I am to accompany you in this suits first and only outing."

"Your wit is far too sharp for a Ravenclaw," Theo huffed in amusement, his stormy eyes glistening behind his dark blue mask. "You look properly fucking flaming by the way...do pardon my French."

You snorted, gracefully taking his arm as he offered it, intertwining yours around his. "French? I was under the impression you were Italian, Signor Nott."

"You speak it?" Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow, briefly glancing down at you as the two of you strolled towards the ballroom.

"Partially," you replied, a playful glint in your eye, your attention split between the conversation and the challenge of navigating gracefully in your black heels. Each step resonated with a confident clack on the school floors. "I dabble in a multitude of tongues...a side effect of an inquisitive mind."

"Is that so?" he said, pure intrigue in his tone. "Talk to me in Italian then,"

"Are you serious?" You snorted, far louder than you'd intended, waiting for him to say he was joking. He simply looked down at you, eyes locked on yours behind the mysterious mask.

"Absolutely serious," Theo chuckled, the breathy tones dancing in the air, a subtle spark of challenge in his eyes. "A little ball of knowledge, huh? Prove it."

A warm flush crept up your cheeks as you stifled your laughter. Theo had a charm of his own, a natural way of drawing people in much like Mattheo, although the troublemaking wizard had a slightly more breathtaking allure with those dark, intoxicating eyes and that unruly mop of chocolate curls. It wasn't a shortcoming on Theo's part--it was simply the irreplaceable magnetism that Mattheo possessed, but you couldn't deny the way Nott was making you feel.

"Alright, you want me to put my money where my mouth is, I respect that." You teased, clearing your throat as you pondered an Italian phrase that might leave an impression. After a brief moment of contemplation, it dawned on you. "Non c'è rosa senza spine."

(There is no rose without thorns.)

"Buona scelta," he replied with a smirk, his tone holding an air of both appreciation and subtle challenge. "Sei più astuta di quanto pensassi."

(Good choice; you’re more clever than I thought.)

"You underestimate me, Nott," you chuckled, a surge of pride coursing through you. "Consider that your first mistake."

"You know, the more I get to know you, the larger my desire to figure you out becomes,” he said, dropping his tone into a husky whisper as the two of you turned a corner. "You are...intriguing."

It was at this moment, as the two of you entered into the bustling main hall, that you were extremely thankful this event was a masquerade. The mask provided a welcome veil of anonymity, shielding you from the prying gazes that threatened to make you uneasy. It seemed you were blending seamlessly into Theo's arm, a part of the enigmatic allure rather than a subject of scrutiny.

"You couldn't figure me out in a million years," you retorted, a sharp edge to your tone, the corners of your lips subtly playing with a hint of a smirk. "Better men have tried."

Theo, as expected, didn't like that response. "Don't tempt me, little bird...I will make it my life's mission."

You rolled your eyes, chewing on your cheek. "You're far too sure of yourself, Theodore."

"Look at that, Bella...you're already using my first name," he quipped, smirking. "I'm making progress without even trying."

You fought the urge to smack him, your eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "To know me, Signor Nott, I'll put you through hell...just ask Riddle, he can certainly attest."

"Mm, thats precisely the thing, little bird..." he said, his smirk holding a touch of intrigue. "Riddle's a closed book when it comes to you. Doesn't spill a damn thing, makes me wonder what secrets the two of you are hiding.”

"Quite a conspiracy, I'd say," you chuckled, relishing the light banter between you two as the distant sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom grew louder. With a nod and a playful smile, you gestured toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Theo nodded, a playful glint in his eyes, as he released your arm and extended a hand to the small of your back, ushering you forward. "After you, milady"

Upon crossing the threshold into the ballroom, a breathtaking scene unfolded before your eyes. The room was adorned with vibrant spring decorations, an enchanting celebration marking the approaching end of the term. The fragrance of fresh flowers wafted through the air, and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden radiance. Hogwarts students from all years, dressed in their finest attire, wore a dazzling array of masks, each one a unique work of art.

As your eyes darted around the room, the search for familiar faces led you to a moment of anticipation. The diversity of masks, ranging from intricate designs to whimsical shapes, made it challenging to discern familiar faces.

Finally, your gaze landed on the only man you'd ever go out of your way to search for, his distinctive chocolate curls drawing your attention like a magnet amidst the sea of masked enchantment. The mere fucking sight of him, cloaked in newfound sophistication, sent a thrilling pulse through your veins, awakening sensations in your body that you were unprepared to face.

He stood there, like a fucking silhouette of elegance, adorned entirely in black--black mask, black suit pants, a sleek black dress shirt, and a finely tailored black suit vest. The only splash of colour adorned him in the form of a satin red tie, perfectly mirroring the shade of your dress. The entirety of your being froze in place, your throat resembling a parched desert, the sole reminder to keep moving coming from the steady pressure of Theo's hand on your back, coaxing you forward through the enchanting crowd.

As the two of you veered closer to them, the tension in your body was almost painful. Truth be told, it wasn't the singular presence of Mattheo that set your heart racing like a high-performance sports car on race day--oh, no, the true accelerant was his fucking date. The very girl from the washroom, the one you had directed him to accompany, and the vibrant colour of her long, flowing dress:

Yellow.

"Riddle, Malfoy," Theo uttered, initiating a firm handshake with each of his Slytherin comrades as they exchanged greetings. "Parkinson, Lanalock."

"Nott," Parkinson remarked, a smile gracing her features. "Never expected to see you in blue. You could easily pass for a Ravenclaw, you know."

Theo's response carried a touch of cunning arrogance, sneaking you a glance. "A choice made with utmost consideration, you might say."

In the midst of the social dance, your gaze and Mattheo's remained locked, an unbroken connection that felt more like a silent conversation than a mere exchange of glances. The unspoken tension between you two hung thick, and in that charged moment, it was uncertain if either of you had even blinked. Your heart pounded not only in your throat but also seemingly echoed in another, more intimate part of you as well.

Mattheo had never looked more fucking captivating, and the longing for him intensified by the millions--that merciless irresistible force effortlessly working to pull you closer.

Just as the tension threatened to become all-encompassing, Professor Dumbledore's voice reverberated over the lively chatter, his warm tone weaving through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the enchanting Spring Masquerade. I hope the magic of the night unfolds to your desires. Now, if you would kindly make your way to the dance floor, we are about to commence the first slow dance of the evening. So, let the celebration begin."

The resonance of Dumbledore's voice snapped you from Mattheo's visual captivity, prompting a few deliberate blinks and an expelled breath laden with tension. Theo, with a gentle glance, took your hand, guiding the group to choose spots on the dance floor directly adjacent to one another. It required every fiber of your being not to steal a glance at Mattheo, aware that the mere sight of him holding another girl would induce a wave of nausea within you.

Your attention became an exclusive affair with Theo. As he placed his hands on your hips, his grip was tender, a sensation entirely distinct from anything you'd experienced with Mattheo. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the elevation of your arms, led your palms to find a gentle perch on Theo's shoulders. In the depths of his stormy blue eyes, you unintentionally delved, oblivious to the intensity of the eye contact you established--you were so lost in your own thoughts that a bomb could go off in this very room, and you were certain you wouldn't even flinch.

Then, Theo's voice broke the silence. "Little bird, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes," you blinked, your voice escaping your throat in a cracked whisper, as though each word were a struggle for breath. "And you?"

"More than," he quipped, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Your watchful eyes tracked the journey of his gaze, starting from your eyes, sliding leisurely to your lips, lingering provocatively before venturing lower, dipping over your chest with a seductive grace before sinuously slithering back up. The subtle intimacy of the visual exploration ignited a warmth within you, and you glimpsed his lips, recalling Emily's advice from your dorm. Make these men squirm.

"Glad to hear it," you mused, a playful edge to your tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders as he delicately drew you closer. "Wouldn't want the Italian playboy to be anything other than alright."

His grip tightened perceptibly, the sensation almost tangible as if his nails could breach the delicate fabric of your dress. The room plunged into a soft dimness, signaling the beginning of the slow dance. The shift in atmosphere was unexpected, enough to make you jump slightly. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with Mattheo, finding his gaze fixed on you, his hands scarcely making contact with his date.

Hastily looking away, Theo's voice reached your ear, dangerously close, "Italian playboy, hmm? Is that what they're calling me these days?"

"Don't act like you weren't already aware," you chuckled softly, the resonance carrying a hint of mischief. "Though, I must say, the rumors might be onto something."

Theo smirked, his voice a low murmur tinged with arrogance. "Well, uccellino, despite the rumors, I assure you I am a proper gentleman..."

A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as his nails dug deeper into the fabric of your dress, compelling you closer as the two of you gracefully swayed to the music.

"How gentle you are, indeed," you mumbled, chewing your lip as you met his gaze, the two of you dangerously close together.

Theo's gaze deepened, his lean frame bending down as his lips brushed against your ear. "I may be a gentleman, Bella," he murmured, the words a seductive whisper. "...but if you keep looking at me like that--with those big eyes, biting on your goddamn lip...we might just be fucking on the nearest surface I find."

Oh, no. This was bad. Your response stammered out before you could even think to stop it, panic flickering in your eyes.

"I-I, excuse me," you stuttered, hastily breaking away from the dance just as the song was nearing its end. The abrupt departure carried a mix of flustered embarrassment and a desperate need to collect yourself.

Seeking refuge, you maneuvered toward the drink table nestled in the far corner of the room. The dim light and distant chatter provided a momentary escape as you began to slam back drinks, attempting to drown the intensity of the encounter with Theo.

As the remnants of a calm facade settled within, a subtle shift in the atmosphere stirred your senses. A tingling awareness compelled you to glance over your shoulder, only to find yourself ensnared in the dark, intoxicating depths of Mattheo's eyes. A strange yet undeniable wave of relief washed over you, despite the fact that he stood looming directly behind, adopting the guise of casualness while pretending to grab a drink.

"Mattheo," you breathed his name, the syllables escaping your lips like a breathless sin, a recognition of the forbidden allure that surrounded him. "What are you doing?"

Mattheo's breath, a tantalizing whisper, brushed against the nape of your neck, setting your nerves ablaze. "I can't stand the way he's touching you, Raven...I can't even stand the way he's fucking looking at you..."

Your lungs seemed to stall. "This was your idea, Matty..."

"I'm well aware," he hissed, the energy radiating from him palpable in the charged air. "Fuck, you look so fucking sexy...you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?"

"I'm not sure I do..." your heart melted, a subtle heat pulsating through your thighs. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"You are so, so fucking beautiful..." he muttered, his voice a deep husk, strained with lust as it left his throat. "You are the most captivating girl in this entire fucking room...I can't stop staring at you...I can't stop needing you..." you gasped as his hand grazed over your ass, subtly, but a feeling you'd never miss. "What do you think you're fucking doing to me, hm?"

You nibbled on your bottom lip, the flush of blood coloring your face. "At this moment...nowhere bloody close to enough."

Mattheo's voice, saturated with desire, responded, "You're absolutely right, princess...and I can't wait to have you all to myself, as soon as this dumb fucking dance is over."

A soft hum escaped you as your lids fluttered, reveling in the warmth of Mattheo's body behind you. "Unless Nott gets to me first..."

As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo's hand seized your wrist with a subtle yet undeniable warning, a silent caution against uttering anything remotely similar again.

"Don't even joke about that, Raven," he growled, the intensity in his voice cutting through the air. "I swear to Salazar himself, what I did to Berkshire will pale in comparison to what I'll do to Nott."

"So jealous, Matty..." you purred, smirking as he slowly released your wrist. You couldn't deny that his possessive tendencies did something to you, however fucking insane they were. "So angry..."

"You like that, don't you?...dirty little slut..." you could practically hear the smirk on his perfect fucking lips, your entire body vibrating with need. "Keep tempting me, princess...I'll bend you over this table, fuck you in front of the whole fucking school...I'll point my gun at Notts fucking head and make him watch, on his knees in front of you as I fuck you stupid...how does that sound for jealous, hm?"

Breath eluded you, the sheer intensity threatening your consciousness. "Godric, help you..."

"Sorry, Raven, but the only help from above that I believe in is a sniper on a rooftop..." Mattheo's voice, a deep, honeyed drawl, slipped from his lips. "And just so you're aware, I know eighty different ways to kill a man--and I can make an easy seventy nine of them look like a bloody accident...understand?"

"Fuck..." your mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. It had been days since his last touch, and the way he spoke now made you crave him more than the very air you breathed. "I don't think I do...I think I need you to tell me again..."

"I've never been a jealous man, Raven..." Mattheo's gaze swept the surroundings, ensuring no lingering gazes were watching. Satisfied, he shifted slightly, his lips now at your other ear. "I've never envied someone for what they have or who they're with, and yet, I'm damn jealous of every asshole you smile at, everyone you openly converse with...I've never fucking wanted something that I couldn't have, a girl I couldn't get...so this, all of this...is fucking maddening."

Your lungs seemed to stall, a momentary freeze as if he'd submerged you into the heart of a raging inferno. A surge of warmth flooded through every fiber of your being, an intoxicating heat.

"I need you," your voice murmured, the words dripping with a desperate longing. "I need you in every fucking way imaginable..."

"Mm," Mattheo hummed, the warmth of his touch tracing the curve of your hip. "Such a delightfully dirty mouth for a princess..."

Feigning innocence, you lifted your gaze to meet his, a coy smile gracing your lips. "Perhaps...but even princesses have their secret pleasures, don't they, Matty?"

For a moment--a fleeting, beautiful fucking moment--your eyes locked, and it was in that secret realm, where slight smirks played on each of your lips, and the tension was fucking so thick that you could hardly breathe--where you both knew you've found what the whole fucking world was still carelessly searching for.

And it was there, that you knew--no man, no job, no fucking career could ever make you feel as happy and needed and treasured as Mattheo Riddle did. In his own, crazy, fucked up way.

Mattheo blinked. "Meet me in the washroom in forty minutes.”

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Chapter 26->

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