#its their fear of committing again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shellshocklove · 3 months

Text

lover, lover, lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

You jolted awake.

With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.

You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.

You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”

“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.

“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.

“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”

“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.

“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”

“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.

You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.

Pismo Beach.

You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.

The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.

You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”

“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.

“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”

“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.

A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.

“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”

“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.

“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.

“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.

“Okay, thirty,” he relented.

You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”

“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”

You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”

“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.

“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”

“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.

“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”

“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”

“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.

“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”

“Ok,” you said softly.

You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.

Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.

Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.

You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.

The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.

“Hi,” he mumbled.

Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”

His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.

“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.

“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.

He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.

“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”

His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”

With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.

“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.

You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.

He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.

“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.

Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.

“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”

“Huh?” You were confused.

You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.

“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”

In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.

“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.

“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.

You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.

You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”

“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.

“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.

“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”

He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.

“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.

“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.

“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.

But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”

He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.

You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.

“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”

“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.

“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.

“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.

“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”

Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.

“What, baby?”

“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.

And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.

“I’m s-sorry, I just–”

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”

You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.

“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.

He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”

You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”

Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”

You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”

“Night, sweet girl.”

“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”

Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.

With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.

He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.

“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.

With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.

“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”

You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.

“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.

“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.

It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”

He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.

You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.

“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”

To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.

“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.

Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.

His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.

With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”

His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”

“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.

Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.

Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.

When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.

But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.

“Fuck.”

You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.

Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.

“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.

Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.

“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”

Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”

His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.

“Good girl.”

His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.

He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.

Fuck, you wanted him inside you.

Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.

He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.

“Are you gonna be good?”

“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.

“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.

“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.

With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.

“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”

He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.

“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”

Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.

“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.

“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.

Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.

Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.

“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.

His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!

With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.

Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.

You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”

Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”

You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.

“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.

“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.

You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.

“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”

“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.

“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver.

“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.

“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.

Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.

And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.

Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.

“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.

You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.

“You know– um… I can–”

Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.

When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.

And he did.

“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.

“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.

“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.

You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.

You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.

He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.

“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.

You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.

“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.

He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.

You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.

“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.

You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.

“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

So you didn’t.

With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.

“Fuck, I’m comin’.”

With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.

You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.

He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.

Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.

The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.

“Hello?” you sang.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.

“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.

Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.

“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.

“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.

“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”

“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.

His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.

“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”

“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.

“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”

“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,

“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.

“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”

Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.

“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”

“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”

Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.

“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”

Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.

“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.

“Later.”

“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.

You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.

All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.

“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.

“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.

“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.

“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.

“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”

It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.

“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.

Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.

The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink. You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.

A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”

Did you really just miss the whole meeting?

“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.

“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”

It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.

You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.

“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.

You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.

Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.

You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.

“Industry news,” you shrugged.

You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”

“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.

You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.

“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”

Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.

“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.

“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.

Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”

He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.

“Nothin’.”

You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.

“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.

“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.

Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.

“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.

You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.

“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.

“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”

Just a blowjob.

You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.

“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.

You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”

His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.

“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.

Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”

His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.

Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”

“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.

“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.

Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.

“Joel? I have your lunch.”

“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.

You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.

He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.

“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.

Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.

“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.

“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.

“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.

His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.

“Joel,” you tried again.

“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.

Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”

His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.

His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.

“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.

With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.

“You should eat.”

Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).

The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.

The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.

A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.

A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.

“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.

The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,

“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.

You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.

“And… action!”

With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.

Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.

“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.

“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.

Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.

You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.

“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”

Sweet girl.

You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.

“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.

Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.

“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”

Again.

Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.

“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.

“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.

Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”

Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”

His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.

“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.

“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.

My sweet girl.

The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.

That pet name. That fucking pet name.

You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.

As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.

Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?

Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.

You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?

This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.

Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.

You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.

Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.

This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.

You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.

Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.

“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.

“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.

Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.

“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.

“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.

Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”

As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.

“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.

It wasn’t funny.

part three -> here

i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #inexperienced!reader #70s au #pedro pascal

1K notes · View notes

punkitt-is-here · 8 months

Note

please explain how a guilty gear xrd song made you transgender

Well okay. You're a 19 year old dude in College who recently drew himself in a skirt for the first time and had a startling emotional reaction to it. you flirt with being a demiboy for a bit but you're afraid of committing to the idea of being a full-on girl. What if you don't like it? What if folks reject you? Suddenly, one night, you're doing homework in the lobby of your dorm and this song comes on.

youtube

oh shit oh fuck. of course, it's full of lyrics that make absolutely zero sense, narratively and grammatically, as this is a japanese man writing in a language that is not his first. this doesn't matter though, because the singer believes so strongly that you must follow your heart and stand with pride and fight against a world that beats you down. goddamn. this changes everything. you ponder on this.

weeks later, you embark on the traditional three and a half hour drive from your college to the middle of bumfuck nowhere. it's tumultuous weather, but it's also beautiful in its chaos. You are going 70 miles per hour and surrounded by gorgeous open fields and dense, snowy mountains. suddenly, Big Blast Sonic comes on again. Oh fuck yeah. You've been listening to this for weeks. You've memorized the lyrics. And the best thing you just recently discovered about metal? You don't even have to be a good singer to belt along to the lyrics. In an environment that's just you and the open road, no one to hear your cry, just the spectacular visage of chaotic nature around you, you belt out the broken English lyrics to a song from a game you've never played

Get down to rock! Get up to burn! Stand with your pride! Never fear your desire!

and you think to yourself, hey, man, i really CAN pull off this transgender thing. let's fuckin do it.

So that's a rough approximation about how Guilty Gear Xrd turned me trans. It wasn't like, the whole reason, but it did play a significant part in my acceptance of the idea and embracing The True Self TM. Guilty Gear fucking rocks and I got into Strive a couple years later because of the music alone. Get down to rock, folks!!!!!!!!!!

#my posts #asks #anon #pronounkitt

2K notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 3 months

Text

occupational hazard | S.R.

You and Spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: plot discussions from 9x23 (angels) and 9x24 (demons), canon compliant injuries, crying, established relationship word count: 1.23k a/n: thought of this while i couldn't sleep after watching the season 9 finale. also its me. I'm the crier.

Your mother always said you had a problem with staring. In the grocery store as a kid, she would pull you to the side and tell you that you were being rude. It always confused you because you didn’t think it was possible to be rude without speaking.

Spencer never seemed to mind your staring, he’d ask if everything was alright, but he never really asked you to stop or told you off.

So, while he was over at your apartment, sitting on the couch grading papers, you just stared at him. You studied how his hair fell in front of his face as he scrawled on the printed paper, and how he set his jaw when he noticed a mistake. Your brows furrowed when you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck, a confused noise escaped your throat.

That got his attention, “What’s wrong?” He asked, matching your furrowed brows before setting his pen down.

Cocking your head curiously, you leaned forward to try to look at his neck, “What is that?” You whispered. It was an old scar, so you could only really notice it when the light hit it just right.

“What is what?” He asked, looking behind him and on his shirt like he was looking for a spill.

Gently, you reached out your hand and touched the scar with your fingertips. “Where did you get this scar?” You couldn’t believe you had never noticed it before – the two of you had been dating for more than half a year.

He reached up his hand and met yours, intertwining your hands together, “On a case in Texas.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked at the scar again. “How did you get that scar on a case in Texas?” You asked, even though you were fairly certain you knew the answer.

Turning, Spencer set all of the papers on the side table before he turned back to face you. “I was shot in the neck,” he answered almost a little too calmly. As if it was just another day in the office, and maybe it was to him.

It certainly wasn’t to you. “What do you mean you got shot in the neck?” You asked, your voice was high and reedy with panic. Fear settled in your chest on behalf of a version of your boyfriend you didn’t even know.

“Hey, hey,” he said in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m okay, this happened almost five years ago, love. I’m fine,” he said, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands.

Your eyes were still wide, like deer in the headlights wide, and you nodded despite yourself. “That’s so scary, Spence,” you whispered as emotion burned in your throat. You knew he worked for the FBI and had for a long time. You knew he had been in love with a girl who was killed in front of him – that’s why he was so protective sometimes. You knew he had been in prison for three months for a crime he didn’t commit – that’s why he taught classes for thirty days. This was the first thing you had figured out – you had told him to tell you everything in his own time.

For a moment, he watched you like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure where to start.

You sat on your heels and retracted your hands from his neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry I just… I saw the scar.” Awkwardly settling your hands in your lap, you sighed. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.”

“Wait, what just happened?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

Shrugging, you settled into the couch cushions. “I just saw the scar and I was curious,” you whispered as your eyes burned. “I didn’t… I just mean you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Reaching into your lap, Spencer took one of your hands in his, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You can always ask, it’s a fact that my job is dangerous,” he told you softly. “Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. It was never my intention to make you feel like you can’t ask me questions about… Why are you crying?”

You wiped furiously under your eyes at the tears that had flooded your eyes, “because you got shot.”

“You’re crying because I was shot five years ago?” He asked in bewilderment, his tone wasn’t belittling, he was genuinely surprised at your reasoning.

Nodding, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to stop your tears. “I am a crier; I cry at everything. Please don’t read into this,” you pleaded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Gently, Spencer pried your hands away from your face, “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, and I don’t know what to do.”

You shook your head, and your bleary eyes met his, “Really, Spence, I’m fine. I’m just a crier, okay? Sad, happy, mad, I cry.” You looked up at the ceiling light and sniffled, fanning your face in an attempt to dry it off.

He was staring at you, “You are quite possibly the sweetest human being I have ever met.” Spencer reached out and pulled you to him, “Look at me.”

Begrudgingly, you looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?”

“I’m not answering that until you stop crying,” he said, sweeping your hair behind your ears.

That answer did absolutely nothing to comfort you. Huffing, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’m just crying.”

Spencer smiled at you, “That is an oxymoron, and you know it.” His smile faded, “I’ve been shot three times.”

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you said, dropping your head to his shoulder.

He hummed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “Once in the knee, once in the arm, and once in the neck. Please don’t cry.”

You nodded into him, “Yeah, you’re… you’re okay now, right?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” He asked softly, running his hands along your back.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you,” you whispered.

His movements falter for just a moment, “I love you too.”

Pulling away and wiping your eyes, “You should finish grading those papers,” you whispered to him, moving away.

Instead of letting you go, Spencer pulled you closer, “I’ll finish tomorrow. I want to be here with you now,” he responded softly. “Are we okay?”

“Your job scares me,” you answered candidly, “but we’re good. We’re great.”

He nodded self-assuredly, “I can’t change the job, but you could meet my team if you wanted to. Maybe meeting them would make you more comfortable with me going out into the field,” he offered. “And maybe I could…” his voice trailed off as he mumbled something else.

Tilting your head curiously, you hummed in an attempt to prod at him, “Maybe you could what?”

“I could make you my emergency contact. If that’s something you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’ve never really had anyone to add, but I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind.”

You smiled softly at him, grateful for every bit he let you in, “I would be honored. Just don’t have any emergencies.”

please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

693 notes · View notes

house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

be mine?

Wednesday Addams x F!Reader

masterlist

Summary: You and Wednesday have a reputation to uphold. Is it worth it?

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Profanity. haven't written in a long time so its probably trash.

Note: Where Wednesday is a lovestruck fool and I just really wanted to write about it.

Word Count: 5.4k+

Preview: 'The kisses exchanged were gentle and slow; Wednesday was taking the time to relish in the moment of having you this close. Committing to memory the taste of your mouth against hers; the feeling of your breath fanning against hers; the sounds of your satisfied sighs against hers.'

“Wednesday, I have to go…” You mumbled, disconnecting your lips from the girl.

“Mhmm.” She mutters back agreeing but continues tightly gripping the back of your neck with her cold hands.

“Enid and Thing are gonna be back soon.” You say breathlessly against her mouth, trying to gather some semblance of control of the situation. But let’s be real here, you lose all sense of self-control around the Addams girl.

“We’re…gonna…get…caught.” You mumbled through her hot open-mouthed kisses. God, you’re an idiot for not picking her up and throwing her on that bed.

“Wednesday.” You pull away, slightly pushing at her shoulders. Dark, blow-out pupils meet your own, the two of you – breathing hard. Her blinking is unfocused, clutching you tight to steady her breathing.

“What?” She blinks once again, this time looking into your eyes.

“Enid and Thing?” You remind, fondly amused at her tousled appearance. A sign that she allowed herself to lose herself in your presence. Wednesday would rather be caught dead than not have everything be to her liking. So, for her clothes and usual twin braids to be undone and disorderly made your head feel a bit woozy. You take the time to fix the mess her fringe had become as your breathing evens out.

“Right… Yes.” Wednesday untangles herself from your touch and your body’s reaction was instantaneous – already cold from losing contact with her, craving it in silence.

You and Wednesday caught yourself in the midst of a secret. You’ve been dating? Fooling around? Hooking up? You haven’t exactly talked about it, but it’s been going on for about two months now and none of your friends had caught on.

See, you and the Addams had quite a reputation; forming a rivalry of sorts. It was well-known around the school that you and her did not get along, like at all. You both always compete to outdo and outrank each other; whether it be in class, extracurriculars, or for no reason at all. Your friends often caught you two bickering over some trivial matters, engaging to rile each up then eventually escalating to points of threats of bodily harm – which is when your friends would have to step in and physically separate you two.

Before this… situationship, the only similarity you two had was your friend group, who knew to never leave you two alone for fear that the arguing and tension would boil over and you two would finally fulfill threats of harming each other.

Once you had a common goal to achieve, after being paired up for a school project; You and Wednesday found each other more than... decent. A deadly argument and kiss later, an undefined relationship blossomed.

“Come back tomorrow night. Enid is sleeping over at Ajax’s dorm, we will have the room to ourselves.” Wednesday says, murky, lust-filled eyes flickering to your mouth as she takes her thumb to smudge away remnants of her lipstick on your lips.

“Can’t get enough of me already?” Smirking, unable to resist teasing the girl.

“Please, as if you were not the one who was practically begging me all day to sneak away with you.”

Eyebrows rising to your forehead, “Me?” You retort in disbelief. “You kept making your eyes at me.” Gesticulating with widened eyes to emphasize your point.

“What eyes?”

“You know, the eyes you make at me when you wanna get down…” Wiggling your brows at the insinuation while hers bumped together in displeasure.

“I don’t make those eyes.” She grits, “And don’t call it that, ever.” But she pursed her lips in annoyance because her desires were so easily read by you – it made her black heart thud harshly against her rib cage; turning away from you to hide the tint of redness painting on her cheeks and ears.

She hated how easy it was for you to bring these emotions out of her, it made her want to vomit.

“You may go now.”

You chuckled, deciding not to push her buttons and point out how adorable you thought she was. You reach over and peck her cheek from behind. “I’ll see you later, Wednesday.” The raven-haired girl was more than glad she was facing away from you so that you didn’t see her cheeks reddening even more.

You make your way out of her dorm, smiling to yourself. You couldn’t keep it at bay even if you tried; overwhelmed with a fuzzy feeling that Wednesday always manages to make you feel. Keeping your head down, you walk down the hallway and away from her room.

“Y/N?” A voice called out, breaking away from your daydreaming.

“Enid! Hey.” Your eyes slightly widened, “what are you doing here?”

“I live here?” She responded with amused confusion, racking her eyes over your figure. You were looking slightly dishevelled, fidgety.

“What are you doing here? You live on the other side of campus, and it’s almost curfew.”

“Um… Wednesday.” The werewolf’s brow upturned at the mention of her roommate, curiosity sparking in her.

“Something about a lead in her investigation.” The lying was nothing new to you; having been doing it for months now since starting your relationship with the Addams girl.

Enid continued eyeing you, not completely believing Wednesday would ask you for help, but also knowing her roommate. That girl would never let a petty dispute derail her progress on an investigation. So it was plausible at best.

As Enid continues to observe you, she sees a tiny smudge of colour on your shirt collar and on the skin under. A shape of lipstick, she deduces. “Oh alright! Well, I’ll let you get back to your dorm. I’ll see you tomorrow in class?”

Letting out an internal sigh of relief that you didn’t set off too much suspicion from the werewolf. You smile widely and give an acknowledging nod, “Goodnight, Enid.”

Enid continues to watch as you walk away and eventually out of her eyesight when you turn a corner. She skips to her room with a slight pep in her step, opening the door widely to scan the room for her gloomy friend.

Her gaze lands on the Addams typing at her typewriter. “Good evening, roomie.”

Barely sparing the werewolf a glance, Wednesday regards her friend with a simple, “Hello.”

For a brief moment, silence takes over the room and Wednesday can practically feed Enid swaying on her feet from behind her. Her roommate obviously wanted to say something. “Spit out whatever you feel you must say, Enid.”

“What did you and Y/N get up to tonight?” The mention of your name made Wednesday straighten her already perfect posture; back stiff and strained.

“Y/N was having trouble with our previous lesson in Botany. I offered to tutor her, she clearly needed it.” The goth lied with ease; imperceptible to most, fooling almost anybody – perhaps even Enid, if she didn’t just catch you two in a lie.

“Weird. That’s exactly what she said when I saw her.” Wednesday's features fight to remain impassive. For a moment she wonders if you had slipped up and exposed the secret.

“Well – not weird, ‘cause why would it be weird that she said the same thing? Ha, anyways I’m gonna go get ready for bed now.” Enid excused, and with a turn of her heel, leaped to their shared bathroom; smiling widely in secret.

Wednesday decides to ignore her roommate's rambling not sure if she wanted to divulge the details of her odd demeanour.

– –

Granted, You and Wednesday got along more often these days it still didn’t stop the fact that you were both stubborn; annoyingly so. Whilst the arguments were not as vicious as before, you and the goth still definitely loved to get under each other’s skin.

You think it gives Wednesday the excuse to be more aggressive and take out her frustrations on you – not that she ever needed an excuse.

So the next day, when Enid leaves her herbology class and down to quad to meet her friends she wasn’t expecting you and Wednesday to be at each other’s throats again – Now Enid wasn’t expecting love and rainbows and crap from you two but these last two weeks have been surprisingly calm and cordial, after what she found out last night she deduced it’s because you two have finally recognized that you two are true love!

Which leads Enid to her confused present self.

The werewolf took a weary glance around the table – the group caught in the middle of an impending warzone. It was like walking onto incoming traffic, really. Just an accident waiting to happen.

Enid takes a seat next to Yoko, who – even with her sunglasses on – can be seen with slight fear in her expression. “What is it this time?” She whispers to the vampire.

“Our roommates are at it again.” She explains, “I think Y/N accidentally spilled her elixir on Wednesday’s bag in potions class – well, it started off as that. Now we’re at threats of violence.” Yoko rolled her eyes behind the frames; slightly torn between being scared or fed up with you two.

Down the table, your and Wednesday’s argument continues to ensue.

“I already said I was sorry! What more do you want from me!” You scowl, eyes burning with annoyance – already fed up with her incessant nagging.

“Perhaps I’ll cut off your tongue as punishment and use it as a sponge to scrub away your sorry excuse of potion off of my belongings!” She threatens, her brown orbs turning darker than you thought was possible.

Wednesday is certain her journal and notes were ruined because of your clumsiness. This is what she gets for pairing up with you; your mere presence distracted her which caused her to absentmindedly place a flask too close to your elbow – you can guess what happened next.’

You mildly gulp in fear at her tone, but your pride trumped any terror she can inflict. “Kinky… but I’m gonna have to give it a hard pass.”

“You are insufferable.” Wednesday retorts, crossing her arms – aggravation clear as day on her face.

“And you’re not as scary as you think you are.” Smirking when it breaks the tension. “Actually, you’re quite adorable, knowing all I know about you.” Your voice drops an octave as you lean closer on your elbows; discreetly eyeing her up and down; your words heard only by you and Wednesday.

If looks could kill, man, you’d be six feet under.

“But seriously, I said I was sorry. If you don’t want the apology, you don’t have to take it. But that’s all you’re getting from me.” With that, you left to stand and gather your things then turn to walk away.

Wednesday doesn’t miss the dismembered hand scurrying to keep up with your pace as you made your way back inside – Thing will surely pay for his disloyalty. Though deep down she couldn’t exactly blame the hand, her bag slightly reeked from the inside – thanks to you; no way Thing’s vainness allows for his soft, supple skin to touch such a surface.

For a moment, Wednesday sits there in silent fury, watching as you walk off. Clenching her jaw, she swallows her pride, gathers her things as well and chases follows after you.

Enid and Yoko, along with the rest of their friends who were watching the show, let out a sigh of relief as the goth girl left. The seemingly thick tension around the table dissipating.

“Um… should someone maybe follow them? You know – cause they might actually kill each other this time.” Xavier reasoned, wearily glancing in the direction Wednesday followed you in. “Just not me, please! Not after last time.” The boy visibly shivers at the memory.

“Ugh! I’ll do it.” Yoko relents – but Enid is reaching for her arm before she can stand.

“No!” Everyone turns to look at the werewolf’s sudden outburst. “Just leave them be, they’ll be fine.” She reassures.

“I don’t know Enid, it seems kinda bad this time.” Eugene cuts in, apprehensive.

“It seems bad every time! But we can’t always play ‘referee’ here. Let’s let them settle their differences on their own.” That seems to convince everyone else as they relent and decide not to follow you two. Enid prays her suspicions about you two are correct – even though she’s 80% sure already. Because she cannot be caught in the middle of your fighting again.

– –

The rough tug on your hair has your head jerking sideways away from the softest pair of lips you’ve ever tasted – face almost smacking the shelf in the tiny closet the Addams girl had dragged you in.

Wednesday’s lips violently nip at your throat; sucking, biting, tugging, releasing, then soothing with the coolness of her tongue. It has you throwing your head against the wall in a groan but her grip was tighter, preventing any sort of movement as she continued her assault on your neck.

“Shit – Wednesday.” You slump against her, tightening your grip on her waist when she bites down even harder at a particularly tender spot.

“That hurts.” Squirming as she continues to suck at the spot, the pressure turning into pain until she finally relents – releasing the skin with a ‘pop’ sound. Your hand instantly clamps down to ease the thudding pain.

“It’s supposed to.” Was all she said before she tenderly grabs the back of your neck to slot your lips together; this time much softer; way too soft for someone like Wednesday Addams.

The kisses exchanged were gentle and slow; Wednesday was taking the time to relist in the moment of having you this close. Committing to memory the taste of your mouth against hers; the feeling of your breath fanning against hers; the sounds of your satisfied sighs against hers. Her gentleness has your mind in a cloudy haze. When she finally pulls away, she’s reaching for your cheek, caressing it in the softest manner – something Wednesday didn’t even know she had in her. But that’s what you do to her – make her do things she didn’t think she was capable of.

You stare into her dark orbs with a lovestruck look that you hope doesn’t seem too obvious.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday finds herself caught in a similar trance.

“It still stings,” You pout, hoping to gather some sympathy points. Wednesday merely rolls her eyes before grabbing your wrist – still painfully clutching your neck – lowering it.

She eyes her creation with a smirk; her mark is big, the innermost part already turning purple, covered by a ring of angry red skin – pride swells in her chest at the sight of you marked by her. The bruise would surely be a tough one to cover up.

Instead of Wednesday’s usual quip, you were pleasantly surprised when all she did was lean down to carefully and tenderly kiss the spot, rubbing a cautious thumb over it while blowing a cool breath to ease the swelling skin. All you could do was stare at the top of her head with heart eyes as you swooned. It was pathetic of you really – that one girl managed to make you weak at the knees with a simple touch – but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, not when Wednesday Addams is in your arms, touching you, like that.

When Wednesday pulls away, she looks at your, still, pouting lips and connects them in another soft kiss; unwinding the pout. When she pulls away, she stares up into your eyes, “Better?” She asks so sincerely and your heart just about expanded five times its size at her tone.

You nod slowly, a soft smile tugging on your lips in appreciation for the goth’s affection. “Way better.” You pepper kisses on her jaw. Then, you pat her ass twice and give it a squeeze as you relinquish your hold on her waist.

“We should head back out. I’m pretty sure we already missed the first half of class.” You smirk cheekily, keeping your hand at its landed destination.

“Take your hand off my bottom, Y/N.”

“No thanks.”

She sighs irritably though she still hasn’t made one move to take your hand away from her ass. Actually, she seems rather comfortable still being wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Why must you ruin every moment?” She murmurs in defeat.

“We were having a moment?” She huffs irately at the way your head tilts to the side when you ask the question. You were bewitchingly attractive even with that stupid smirk on your lips, but even still, Wednesday refused to swallow her pride this time – so she wills herself to pull away.

You let out a hearty chuckle, grabbing at her waist again to bring her even closer so you can plant a long kiss against her lips. Wednesday’s reaction was – as it always would be – instantaneous as she reciprocates the kiss when her hand finds its home on the nape of your neck, pulling you close.

“Seriously though, we need to leave.” You say when you finally, for the last time, pull away.

“Fine.” She untangles your mess of limbs to grab her backpack that was hastily thrown on the floor, slipping it on. “I will see you at lunch.”

“Mmm, nope. Detention.” You remind, and she huffs at remembrance. Why must you always get into trouble – not that Wednesday can speak but at least don’t get caught… as much.

“Don’t worry baby, we have tonight remember? Detention can’t keep us apart.” You foolishly try to wiggle your brows.

Wednesday rolls her eyes, walking over to the door handle, “You are insufferable. Call me that again and I’ll truly chop your tongue off.”

“But you love that–” the door shuts. “–about me.”

– –

“That was not scary.”

“It’s not supposed to be scary. It’s a parody of scary movies. They’re making fun of it.”

“Then they should not title it ‘Scary Movie’. It sends the wrong message to its audience… I should burn your copy of all five installations of this abomination.” You chuckle amusedly at her statement kissing atop her head.

The night had been a success. You and Wednesday had spent the evening watching a healthy dose of a variety of films, mostly horror as it was the only genre of movies Wednesday can stomach. You had cuddled, kissed, had sex; it was perfect. You lay there in utter peace, tangled up in bed together; no sense of where and which pair of limbs starts and ends.

It was nice having the evening to yourselves. Between classes and sneaking around your friends, you two don’t get many moments like these often. You made sure to cherish and appreciate them more. It made you feel like you were in a relationship. Even though you two haven’t exactly defined what this is – you find yourself simply appreciating the mere fact that you are the only person who gets to do this with her and that is more than enough for you.

And now, you both laid there – dressed in nothing but underwear and each other's shirt – Wednesday leaning her head on your chest as you twirl a strand of raven hair. Both on the precipice of sleep, the warmth radiating from your tangled legs becoming a gentle tug to give in, with the TV playing aimlessly in the background as an aid.

Just as Wednesday nestled her face closer to your neck – about to follow suit and doze off, she hears the sound of footsteps and keys jingling. Wednesday springs into action, startling you awake with a hand on your chest. She gives no verbal warning before she’s shoving you by the head under her thick duvet covers.

The door swings open followed by footsteps and your eyes instantly widen. “Hey, Wednesday.”

“Enid. Yoko.” Wednesday greets while you’re mentally freaking out about both of your roommates being so close to the truth.

“Yoko just tagged along with me to grab an overnight bag for my sleepover at Ajax’s,” Enid explains, grabbing her things.

“Ouu! Scary Movie! Didn’t think you’d like these. Cute hair by the way!” Yoko points out excitedly,

“You know of this abomination?” Wednesday inquires, choosing to ignore the other comment.

“Yeah, Y/N made watch all of them when she first moved in. It’s like her favourite or something.” They truly were.

“I’m not surprised, they’re awful. Of course, she would like these.” If she could see your face right now, she would see how offended you are by that statement. The nerve!

“So then why are you watching it?” Enid asks bemused.

“It was a recommendation from someone.”

“Huh… alright. I’m slightly offended you’re taking recommendations 'cause I’ve been begging you to watch The Great British Bake Off with me.” Enid squints, playfully glaring.

“I did not have a choice in the matter.” She mutters under her breath, only for you to hear. Wednesday discreetly wacks your hand away when you hit her thigh in jest.

“Anyways… speaking of Y/N.” That makes you and Wednesday stiffen, “have you seen her? ‘Cause after classes, she came by the dorm and hasn’t been back since. Enid and I have been in there all night. No signs of her still.” Yoko inquires with a mysterious lilt.

“No. I have not.” She lies smoothly like she always has.

“Oh really? ‘Cause after the bag incident we saw you follow her. Oh man, please don’t tell me you killed my roommate, it’s so hard to find one you actually like.” Yoko rambled, lost in her own thoughts. Enid had to forcefully lay a hand on her shoulder, Wednesday surely doesn’t miss the exchanged silent look between the two friends.

Could she – could they know? The Addams is nothing if not attentive, she was never wrong.

“Chill, Yoko. What she means is have you seen Y/N? We’re just worried.” Enid slid in and took the lead, plastering on a smile but it looked more like a grimace.

“ I followed her, merely to argue some more, then we parted ways for our next class. I did not see her again after that.” Wednesday answers with half-truths, your make-out session during second period did start off as an argument until it wasn’t.

“Alright…” Enid relents.

She knew better than to try and break Wednesday down. That girl was like a brick wall of information. She could probably trick a polygraph test. Enid should’ve gone to you first – if they could find you. With a goodbye, Enid tugs Yoko along and out the door. Wednesday waited a few more seconds, using her heightened hearing to see if the pair had actually left. Only when she was sure, did she pull you from under the covers.

“Jesus Christ, I felt like I was gonna suffocate.” You gasp, flinging yourself on your back as the high of almost getting caught begins to wear off.

“You would have been fine.” She side-eyed your dramatics.

“We just pulled a Chandler and Monica in London, babe.” You joked, grinning childishly at her. The goth’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at the reference.

She pinches your side with a firm clinch and you groan flinching away. “I do not know what insipid pop culture reference you are citing and I said don’t call me that.”

“FRIENDS?” All you get is a blank stare.

You sigh in defeat – remembering who you were talking to. “Nevermind that, do you think they know?”

“Yes.”

‘Fuck.”

– –

Wednesday was in a bad mood. A very bad mood. She was the human embodiment of the ‘DANGER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION’ sign – and people warily did so.

You and Wednesday have not had alone time, not since your last close call during movie night.

She and you had agreed to keep things ‘chill’ and ‘slowing down’ which meant cutting your already reduced time together to practically non-existent, at this point. Wednesday finds herself deeply regretting agreeing to the foolish agreement. She hasn’t been alone with you in two weeks and Wednesday is growing distressingly annoyed.

Your period of separation has made Wednesday realize that she finds herself always wanting to be around you – slowing down, be damned. Because if slowing down and hiding this relationship you have with her meant more of this strange, painful feeling in her chest then she wants no part of it. The pressure is fleeting but it always comes back when the goth sees something that reminds her of you; in these last two weeks, it seems you have plagued everything in her surroundings because the goth simply cannot rid her thoughts of you.

Wednesday doesn’t think she can do the hiding and sneaking anymore in favour of keeping up this enemies/rivals facade.

Why torture yourselves by keeping apart from one another?

She fumes at the thought of how idiotic you two have been – she was mad, mostly at herself for not seeing it sooner. She supposed it may be healthy for her to acknowledge her fear of love; romantic love no less is a contributing factor to why she hasn’t spoken about what your relationship means. Because Wednesday Addams doesn’t do love.

But now as Wednesday furiously clanks at her typewriter’s keys; her usual graceful and fluid motions were anything but as her heart physically constricts at her last interaction with you – her beliefs could be swayed.

You two were sitting in botany class, doing well to avoid Enid and Yoko’s watchful eyes. It seems the pair have taken it upon themselves to start their own investigation on your and Wednesday’s relationship – lurking around your guys’ shoulder, always watching.

They were close to your scent that night, so you needed to throw them off your trail.

Hence the period of separation, but none of that mattered anymore because you were rejecting her, again.

Wednesday sees you sliding a haphazardly ripped paper with new writing, it read:

“im sorry u know i still cant come over. still too risky :(“

Wednesday’s aggressive typing catches up to her when she realizes she’s made an error; pressing an incorrect key. She clenches her jaw at the mistake and the memory of your rejection.

She reaches out to grab the stack of fresh paper that was laid out in advance but realizes she had used it all up from her previous mistakes. You have been the reason for her scatterbrain tonight and it seems her disorderly is catching up to her. She never makes a mistake during her writing time.

Wednesday pushes her chair back, standing to make her way to the closet to grab more paper. She glances a brief look at the clock on the wall, noting the time. It was late evening and the friend group should all be at your and Yoko’s dorm by now.

After your last class with Wednesday – where you dejectedly rejected her invitation – your friends all hurriedly made Friday night plans. They came up with an evening at the Weathervane and then a movie night at your and Yoko’s dorm; they insisted Wednesday tag along for the event but with her increasingly irate mood she knew she would not be good company.

She didn’t miss your pleading glances at her as if to say ‘please come’. Wednesday is not sure why would want her there anyway, seeing as you and her still had a facade to keep up and that you haven’t made a single advance towards her in the last two weeks.

She bitterly looks away from the clock at the last thought.

Wednesday steps into her closet, making swift steps to the cabinet she knew had more of her typing paper, but her feet stumble at the sight of your shirt absentmindedly thrown over some of Wednesday’s clothes. She must’ve chucked it there after changing in the morning.

The goth reaches out to grab the fabric, bringing it up to her nose to smell the comforting scent – it was fading, terribly so. It felt like you were fading, it had been two weeks after all.

Wednesday screws her eyes shut in annoyance at the two words; two weeks, a sour reminder of her time apart from you.

With that overwhelming agitation rumbling in her chest, again. Wednesday thought: enough. Dropping your shirt where it was found, her heavy boots clunk against the old hardwood floor as she leaves her room. She makes the familiar trek out of Ophelia Hall and to the fastest way to your dorm.

She thought of the fury of demands she would hurl at you, once she pulled you away from everyone. She doesn’t exactly know what those words are going to be yet – and footing stumbles at the thought. All she knows is the pressure in her chest is growing uncomfortably painful and the only remedy she can think of is you.

Before she knows it, she’s reaching your door, bringing a tightly-wound fist to the surface banging down; loud and hard.

It took a few seconds, but there you were, opening the door with a confused frown on your face and Wednesday’s semi-rehearsed fury of words toward you was gone. Behind you, she can see your guys’ friends all pretending not to be watching but failing miserably.

“Wednesday? I thought you said you didn’t want to hang. Did you change your mind?” It was Enid who calls out from her spot inside the room.

“No.” She responded immediately, but she was still only looking at you; unable to break her stare. You were looking at her with such a concerned gleam in your eyes as you took in Wednesday’s dishevelled appearance from her trek over here. The goth’s heart skips a beat. No one has ever looked at her like that before.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You sprang into concerned questioning, allowing your act of hostility toward her to slip away. Suddenly the space between you and Wednesday as you stand on opposite sides of the threshold feels too far.

Abandoning all rational thinking and consequences that may come after, Wednesday reaches forward and grabs at your waist – knuckles in a tight-white grip around your shirt. She’s pulling you out into the hallway, lips pressed together in a frenzied but gentle manner. Your hand gingerly cups her jaw, as your body surrenders to the familiar feeling of her kiss – the door slamming shut behind you, no doubt giving your friends a snippet of the show.

You can kind of hear excited screaming and loud talking behind the door. But you tune that out and focus on the girl in your arms.

Pulling away you rest your forehead against hers, trying to swallow shallow deep breaths.

“What was that for?” You ask breathlessly against her lips.

Her gaze turns soft, gulping before starting, “I could not go any longer without having you near. These last two weeks have been agonizing. Being alone, without you was torture – and not in the way I usually enjoy. It was… debilitatingly painful to exist without you. I wish to never experience it again.”

You were the human embodiment of heart eyes right now.

“So, please. Don’t do that again.” Wednesday pleads with – she’s sure – is the most pathetic expression right now; desperation clear as day. But she can’t bring it in herself to care anymore. No, not when she brushes a soothing thumb to your lip and you react with a giddy smile.

“What about what the others might think?” Nodding towards your room – which has seemingly quieted down; if you didn't know any better, you’d say your friends had their ears up against the door, listening in.

You were practically already putty in her hands but figured you’d tease and ask for good measure.

Wednesday briefly glances at the door; scowling in thought. When she looked back at you, she was shaking her head with a frown.

“I don’t–” She hesitates, gathering her thoughts, “–I do not care about what anyone else thinks… I just want you.”

And with the softest doe-eyed look, you’ve ever been given, your heart swells ten times its size. You reach forward to slip your tongue in her mouth to bring her in for another searing kiss that you hope encompasses all you feel for the other girl.

You pull away for a breath, gasping as you say, “Be mine.”

She whispers a hoarse, “Yes,” as she tugs on your bottom lip with her teeth; nodding slightly; noses bumping together.

You hear a thud from behind the door at Wednesday’s response.

On the other side, Yoko and Ajax have caught a fainting Enid in their arms.

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday imagine #wednesday fanfic

3K notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.

Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.

But tonight’s game is boring.

He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.

And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.

“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.

“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.

“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”

He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.

“Hmph!”

At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.

A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.

“Holly?”

When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.

“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”

Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.

“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”

The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?

The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.

Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.

“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”

Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”

Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”

“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”

“…Damn. Inspiring.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.

…Well, too much, anyway.)

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”

Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”

Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.

“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”

“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”

“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”

Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.

“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.

“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Drama queen.”

“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”

Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.

(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)

He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.

Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —

“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”

Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.

Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.

“Oh, you — fucker!”

He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”

Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”

Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.

“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”

Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”

480 notes · View notes

daddyfordaeddy · 28 days

Text

Pairing: mafia! Seongjoong x f! yn

Word Count: 3517

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, minor injuries, slight possessive/yandere joong (not super noticeable), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, mafia au, exes to lovers, M for mature audiences

Summary: After leaving the mafia scene for five years, you've had to go back and beg for help from the boss of your former family...and your ex.

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), some praise, degredation, spitroasting, oral (m & f receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, creampie, fingering, felching (again), squirting, one spank, dom/sub (seongjoong dom, yn sub), undernegotiated kinks (its been a while since they fucked so things may have changed but they don't discuss. don't do this)

Written for tipsy drabbles! took me like 3 days to write the smut itself lmao

“So. You’ve found your way back to me, begging for me.” You keep your eyes lowered, not afraid but too ashamed to look Hongjoong in the eyes. You haven’t seen the head of the MATZ gang in a long time. Not since the last boss was alive and he was just a capo in his own right. Not since you had left him standing in the hall of his mansion, citing immaturity when it was just your fears of commitment to a mafia member. You know you broke his heart, but he stitched it back up quickly, yelling after you that if you ever came back he wouldn’t help you.

And yet, how the tables have turned.

“I had…I had nowhere else to go. Turn me away if you wish, but hear me out first. Please, Hongjoong.” You keep your gaze focused on your ratty sneakers, a far cry from the Louboutins you used to wear.

“Look at me first.” You freeze. From his tone of voice, you know he knows why you’re here. “I won’t repeat myself, YN.”

Slowly, you bring your head up, wincing at the sharp pain in your throbbing head from the sudden movement. You’re sure you look a mess, with the black eye and split lip. You keep your line of sight trained on the window next to Hongjoong instead of his face, but you can’t miss the way his eyes darken at the sight of you broken in front of him.

“What. Happened.”

His voice is cold and you flinch, hands wringing behind your back as you refuse to break down in front of your first lover (and if you stop lying to yourself, he still is in your heart). “...It was Yang Beomhun. I left you but he tracked me down and thought he could use me as leverage against you. It didn’t work, but at that point, he decided he might as well keep me around for himself and the pretence he had put up dropped. I…don’t know what else to do.”

It was a miracle you were even let back into his mansion. You thought you would have to live a life of suffering with Beomhun as your tormentor, but one of the family had somehow recognised you and let you in, citing it to be some sick joke.

And maybe it was. Who leaves the mafia out of fear for their future, only to end up being run ragged by the justice system? It’s ironic, ending right back up where you left, but once again, you have nothing left to lose.

“Why don’t you just leave him? You clearly are able to.”

You choose to ignore the jibe. “I couldn't. I’ve tried. It was a miracle I made it here, and that was with the help of someone who likely has gotten into deeper trouble.” You can feel your body shaking with the effort to keep your cool. “I don’t know what to tell you. Give me a new life, or just fucking kill me, Hongjoong. I don’t want to be caught in the middle again. I left to avoid the danger but no matter what I do, all I get is the same thing.”

Silence settles over the both of you. It’s only a moment later you realise you finally admitted the real reason you left. Your head shifts lower and you squeeze your eyes shut, both from embarrassment and trying to keep yourself on your feet.

After a long breath, you feel slender fingers on your chin that tip your face up. Blearily, you blink your eyes open to see Hongjoong staring down at you, eyes hiding any emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is soft, softer than you’ve heard in a long time. “I would’ve protected you, given you the safest life I could.”

“I…back then I didn’t want that, Joong. I just wanted a normal life. Not a safe one.” Your eyes are fighting to stay open.

“And now? What do you want?” You open your mouth to speak, but instead, your legs give out and Hongjoong drops to keep you from cracking your head on the wooden floor. “YN, wait–”

When you reawaken, you’re in an intricate bedroom you remember as the one you stayed in when you and Hongjoong were still dating. It’s changed quite a bit, his bookshelves cleared and the desk is gone, but otherwise, the drapes remain the same, and the carpet and plants as well. Your body aches but your mind is refreshed, the exhaustion from yesterday gone.

You can feel a heavy weight on the left side of the bed and your heart softens at the sight of Hongjoong sitting beside you, head in his arms as he rests his torso on the bed. As much as you hate to admit it, you missed him every moment you were gone. But you hurt him irrevocably and you know there’s not much you can do to win him back.

Your hand reaches up involuntarily, just about to brush through his platinum blond locks when his head snaps up. Your hand jerks back although his eyes are still closed. “You’re up,” he hums, eyes slowly blinking open. “The medic said you were just exhausted, but I’m glad to see you’re up.”

You stare at him, brows furrowed. “Why are you glad? I hurt you. I don’t deserve your worry.”

Hongjoong’s brow raises. “I don’t think you get to decide who I get to worry about. Yes, you hurt me. But we were young and dumb. We were hardly adults, thrust into a dangerous situation. And I would be lying to say I didn’t miss you, rosebud.”

Your face flushes at the nickname you hadn’t heard in years and Hongjoong smiles at the sight of it. He shifts over, leaning in to brush his nose against yours when the door slams open. “Boss, Seonghwa’s back.”

Your brows furrow. “Seonghwa?” The name escapes your lips before you can catch it and Hongjoong’s eyes narrow to level a sharp gaze at you.

“You met him?” His question is light but there’s danger behind it.

“Yes—He’s the one that helped me escape Beomhun. He was new on the task force, but he saw how Beomhun treated me and was the only one who cared to help me.” You speak quickly, trying to ease the tension lurking in Hongjoong’s eyes. “I swear on my life, Joong. He’s done nothing wrong except help me.”

Hongjoong stares at you for a long moment before he stands quickly, smoothing down his suit. “YN, come. Let’s see this Seonghwa for ourselves.”

Before you can even say anything, he grabs your wrist, pulling you along. You don’t know how to react, much less if you should react, and the entire way down to the basement is silent. You come to a stop behind a glass window, two-way if you remember correctly, and you stare at the slender figure sitting at the table, with sharp eyes and a split lip. “That’s him,” you breathe out.

Hongjoong hums. “Aww, he came all this way to see if you were alive? How sweet. Why don’t you go and show him how much you appreciate him? After all the work I put him to to keep you safe?” His hand pushes at your side a little and you snap your head towards him.

“Joong–” you gasp in shock and confusion.

Hongjoong turned to stare you down. “What? You think I would actually just let you go like that, five years ago? You’re mine, and you’d do well to remember that.” He chuckles low in his throat, his lips pulling into a shark’s smile. “Seonghwa here is my underboss. I trust him the most when it comes to my personal affairs, and I think he deserves a reward for the work he’s done. Come on, baby, why don’t you show him how good you can be?”

Before you can say anything else, he swings the door open and pulls you through. “Hwa, say ‘hi’ to my little rosebud. She’s here to give you a little treat for protecting her.”

He pushes you forward again and you stumble on your feet until large, warm hands land on your waist as you stop between Seonghwa’s open thighs. “Aren’t you just precious, huh,” he groans, pressing his thumbs into your hip bones. “Little missy is just too worried about me, is that right, baby?”

You cast a glance back at Hongjoong, where he’s taken a seat from across the room and is palming at the growing bulge in his pants. Without even thinking about it, your thighs squeeze together and you flush. “Joong–” Back when you were still with him, the two of you would find newcomers to fuck, some kind of sick power play Joong got off on. It’s somewhat comforting to see not much has changed in that regard…and it makes heat bloom in your core.

Seonghwa’s hand gripping your chin directs your gaze to his dark eyes. “Come on, miss, I went to all that work keeping you safe, don’t you want to show your appreciation?” He arches a perfect brow and you swear the expression on his face only serves to make your face even hotter.

“Show him how good you can be, YN,” Hongjoong commands from behind you, his voice heavy. And, well, who are you to disobey him? Immediately, you drop to your knees, your habits from years back still ingrained into your brain.

Seonghwa chuckles, his fingers combing through your hair slowly as he palms his cock straining against his leather pants. “Come on, princess. Show me how good those pretty lips are.”

You don’t need much more prompting than that, quickly reaching forward to undo his belt and slide his zipper down. With a groan, Seonghwa lifts his hips enough for you to shove his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. The tip of it is an angry red, dripping pre-come and your eyes zero in on it.

Seonghwa places his hand on the top of your head, and you don’t need much more prompting before dipping down and pressing a kiss to the tip. You can hear him sigh and it's enough to make you sink down to envelop the head of it in your mouth, letting spit pool around it. Any other day you’d be in the mood to tease, but with Hongjoong watching all you want is to be good.

“Shit, her mouth is so good,” Seonghwa groans, his thighs straining as his hands tighten in your hair. “So perfectly willing to be used.”

You feel another spike of heat in your core as you clench around nothing at his words. The way he doesn’t even direct it at you, only at Hongjoong turns you on more than you’d like to admit it would. “You can be rougher with her, she likes it,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through the fog slowly encapsulating your mind.

Without hesitation, Seonghwa pushes your head down even further and you gag, eyes rolling back at the rough treatment. “Holy shit, she’s into it.” There’s absolute glee in Seonghwa’s voice, and his hips give an experimental thrust. You moan around his thick length, eyes squeezing shut as your spit dribbles down his length. Any shame you feel dissolves into arousal and you can’t help but wriggle your hips, trying to get any sort of friction.

“Look at you, so needy for anything.” Hongjoong’s voice is closer than you remember, and you flinch when you feel his cool hands on your shoulders. They trail down, patting your ass before reaching to cup you through your pants. “Come on, hands and knees for me, okay?”

It takes you a moment to respond, but when Hongjoong paps you on your cunt again, you scramble to present your ass to him while still keeping Seonghwa in your mouth. You can hear both of them chuckle at your eagerness. “She’s such a perfect slut, Joong,” the bite in Seonghwa’s voice makes you whine low in your throat. “So happy to just take cock and sit still, all pretty for us.”

Hongjoong hums as he pulls down your pants and underwear in one swift moment, pressing his fingers against your sopping pussy. “She’s so wet, truly the perfect whore for us,” he sighs, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. His movements are fast, precise, and more slick gushes out of you as you keep moaning around Seonghwa’s cock.

Before you can grind against his hand, his fingers disappear just as fast as they entered you and you whine, feeling much too empty. “Eager or not, bitches should learn patience,” Hongjoong sneers and a smack resounds in the room. You register the stinging pain on your ass a second later and you moan, the sound of it muffled.

Your eyes tear up from the pain and Seonghwa coos, his long fingers brushing away the tears. You lean into the comfort subconsciously but as you do so, you can feel the blunt head of Hongjoong’s cock rubbing against your folds and the slick sounds make your brain fuzzy. The tip of it repeatedly catches on your clit and each time it sends a shock to your core.

Before you can whine any more, Hongjoong lines his cock up to your cole and pushes in without any warning. Your eyes snap open as your body is pushed forward and Seonghwa’s cock is driven deeper into your mouth. “Shit–” Seonghwa groans, his other hand coming down to grip your hair and keep your head in place.

Hongjoong giggles from behind you before drawing back and slamming back in again. The force of his thrust spears him so perfectly inside you, the girth of his cock stretching you open so well. He didn’t prep you well enough, but the sting makes you even wetter. It’s been years, and he still knows exactly what you like and it makes both your heart and your cunt throb. Seonghwa’s cock is longer, but the stretch of Hongjoong is just what you like and you clench around him.

“God, after all this time, you still are so fucking tight. Maybe I didn’t fuck you well enough before,” Hongjoong leans down to whisper in your ear, his weight pushing you impossibly further onto Seonghwa’s dick. “Maybe I’ll let Seonghwa fuck you too until your pussy is nice and sloppy for me to take any time I want. You may be mine, but Seonghwa is too and it would be cruel of me to not let my two playthings have their own fun.”

You’re a little ashamed to admit the idea of that makes you moan, and Hongjoong presses a kiss to your shoulder before biting the flesh, his hips starting to jackhammer into you, setting an unforgiving pace.

Your body goes lip, Hongjoong’s arms around your waist and Seonghwa’s hands in your hair the only thing keeping you up. You really do feel like a doll used only for their enjoyment but something about it is perfect and you keep your mouth slack as your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt is throbbing, pulsing around Hongjoong as he hits the spongy spot inside of you with surprising accuracy. Seonghwa’s started thrusting into your mouth as well, your jaw aching but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You can hear them speaking to each other above you but you’re too far gone to make sense of anything they’re saying, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two men on either side pound into you. But before you can say or do anything, Seonghwa comes, ropes of his come shooting down your throat without you needing to swallow. As his orgasm washes over him, he pulls his cock out, moving one of his hands to your jaw and squeezing, keeping your mouth open and pliant. The tip of his dick rests against your lower lip as drops of come land in your mouth and dribble down your lips. When his cock softens, he tucks himself back in and leans down to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow.” His voice is rough and heavy, and you follow his command immediately. You don’t even notice Hongjoong stilled his hips until a moment later and you whine.

“So greedy,” Hongjoong scoffs, his hands gripping your waist and his nails digging into the skin. Without warning, he pulls you back down on his cock and you moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream. “Your cunt is swallowing me so well, baby. I could do this for hours and I bet you’d just let it happen. God, I can’t believe I let you go last time, no one else could be such a perfect little cumdump for me.”

He punctuates each other with another thrust until he’s groaning as he reaches the edge of his pleasure, his come shooting deep into you and coating your walls. “God, she’s taking you so well,” Seonghwa hums, brushing your hair out of your eyes, the gentleness of his actions the complete opposite of how he was treating your mouth not a minute earlier.

Hongjoong laughs, pulling out his cock to see his come dripping out of you and making a little pool on the floor. His arms release you and you collapse onto the cool tile, your body shuddering. “She’s good, isn’t she,” he says fondly, his hands coming to pull apart your cheeks, admiring the sight of your hole fluttering around nothing. “She hadn’t even come after that. Would you like to reward this good behaviour, Hwa?”

A chuckle leaves Seonghwa as he moves around to settle in between your legs. You’re too tired to shift to see what they’re doing and you gasp as a flat tongue presses against your dripping hole. Your back arches and Hongjoong chuckles, pressing down on your shoulders to shove you further onto the tile.

Your thighs are shaking from the effort of keeping your hips up, but Seonghwa’s grip doesn’t relent as he licks into you like a starved man, tasting both your slick and Hongjoong’s come. The way it flicks your clit and it doesn’t take long for you to come apart on the title, moans spilling out of your mouth easily as you feel a great pressure on your core and your body shakes from the effort of it. You can hear the sloppy, wet sounds of Seonghwa licking up your release and even when you try to clench around his tongue you just know with how loose you are it doesn’t change much.

“Fuck, I didn’t know she squirts,” you hear the awe in Seonghwa’s voice and Hongjoong hums, please.

“Like I said, she’s really the perfect slut.” Hongjoong pats your head, but the praise doesn’t really register, your mind is all fuzzy from the fucking you just received, and all you do is yawn. You hear soft laughter from the two of them and Hongjoong pulls you into his arms as he kisses the top of your head. “All right, I get it. You can sleep, baby. We’ll clean you up. Just relax.”

At his sweet words, you let your head drop to his shoulder as you let him manoeuvre you so he can pick you up to bring you to a bath. You’re happy to be back.

As Hongjoong tucks you into bed, Seonghwa leans against the doorframe, waiting for you to finally drift off. As soon as your breathing levels, Seonghwa moves to stand by Hongjoong sitting on the bed, and he speaks up. “Beomhun asked for his money.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t get it. He broke the rules of the deal and laid his hands on my girl. The agreement was for him to scare her, not fucking hurt her.”

Seonghwa nods. “I know. He has been taken care of. Jongho and Yunho are happy to have been promoted, and I’m sure they’ll bring flowers to the funeral.”

Hongjoong chuckles, low in his throat to keep you from waking. “Good, good. It’ll be good to have some of our men higher in the police force too. Beomhun’s death was needed. But make sure she never finds out.” Seonghwa nods. “Can you go get a report from Yunho?”

Another nod. “I’ll see you later,” Seonghwa says, patting Hongjoong on the shoulder. “We’re still on for dinner, right?”

Hongjoong smiles. “Of course. Come here.” Seonghwa moves to stand between Hongjoong’s legs, much like how you did with him down in the basement. Without another word, Hongjoong pulls Seonghwa down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I’m happy to have both of you back. I’ll see you later tonight. Maybe YN will be awake for dinner as well.”

Seonghwa flushes red before kissing Hongjoong once more before slipping out the door. Hongjoong turns his attention back to you, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re back now, and I intend to keep it this way. No running away from me anymore,” he whispers, his fingers trailing down your face to ghost over your lips. “You’re mine, rosebud.”

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #pirateeznet #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfiction #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #smut

454 notes · View notes