#nearly forgot about this app

[thestipguy]

smiling friends reference i dont feel like pulling up the reference image if you get it you get it

#pip pirrip #pip pirrup #pip x stan #sp stip #stan marsh #stan x pip #stip #south park #nearly forgot about this app #had to post

[the-boy-meets-evil]

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 

“Of course not,” he says. 

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge. 

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply. 

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks. 

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 

“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x you #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt x you #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svthub #kvanity #ksmutsociety

[lazyjellyfish300]

Gentleman part 3 🌼💌

Geneticist CEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student!Reader

Synopsis: your relationship with your new sugar daddy progresses, but meanwhile your jealous sorority members plot against you. Word count 5.5k

A/N: so I know at first the idea was to make this a situationship to lovers but I actually completely forgot about that lol so I'm just rolling with whatever this is that this has turned into. 🫶🏽🖤 This art by blahhberry on insta is Dr. O'Hara's face claim if you wanna see. ;)

TW: MINORS DNI, SUGGESTIVE, MASTURBATION ALLUDED TO BUT NO EXPLICIT SMUT YET (NEXT CHAPTER HEHE), SOME ANGST, LONELINESS, BULLYING, SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND ASSAULT (A GUY NEARLY GROPES YOU AND YOU GET PEER PRESSURED), BAD DRUNKEN BEHAVIOR, YOUR ROOMMATES SHOW THE WORST SIDES OF THEMSELVES, IT MIGHT BE KINDA TOUGH TO READ, TAKE CARE WITH THIS ONE IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE❤️ SUGAR DADDY RELATIONSHIP, (BOSS/EMPLOYEE) don't condone this IRL, maybe OOC Miguel, age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-27, Miguel is mid-late 30s), mild violence

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

-------

Once you got back to your dorm, you ran upstairs to your room, kicking off your shoes. You fixed your hair and held your bouquet, angling your phone for the best lighting and took a selfie, sending it to Miguel along with a quick text: 

You: Thanks for the flowers. ❤️💐 You made my whole day! 

A couple minutes later: 

M❤️: You're very welcome. You look so beautiful. I hope you had a good day. 

You: Thank you❤️❤️I did, a lot better thanks to you. 🥰

M❤️: I'm so glad. 

You sat there, trying to think of what to say next. 

You: So, when can I see you again? :)

M❤️: Well, my flight gets in Friday afternoon, however I will most likely spend the rest of the day with my daughter and my mother. Would Saturday work for you? 

You smiled and texted back: 

You: Saturday works perfectly! What did you have in mind? 

Miguel smiled from his high up hotel room in Chicago, looking out the window and thinking for a moment, then typing back. 

M❤️: How does going to the Hamptons sound? There's a waterfront restaurant that serves some of the best food on the East coast, and the views are lovely this time of year. 

You smiled widely at this, appreciating that he came up with an actual date idea that sounded incredible and not just defaulting to whatever you wanted. 

You: That sounds incredible! I'd love that. ☺️ Thank you so much. ❤️❤️

M❤️: You're welcome. Have you ever been to the Hamptons before? 

You: I haven't, no. 

M❤️: I will have Noir take you shopping this week. 

A ding went off on your phone, and your mouth fell open. $500 was just sent to one of your money apps from Miguel. 

M❤️: Use that wisely to pick out an outfit, or a few.  You'll want to dress semi-warm, as it can get a little chilly in the evenings. But we'll only go for the day. I'll have you home at a reasonable hour so you can rest. 

You just had to shake your head and bite your lip. This truly was the best thing ever. 

You: You are seriously so sweet...thank you. ❤️Really, you didn't have to do that. 

Miguel smiles, laying back on his hotel bed with a hand behind his head as he texts you back. You're so humble, it's adorable. 

M❤️: You're very welcome. But, I insist. You deserve it for all your hard work and for what you've had to deal with lately. I hope it gives you a little something to look forward to this week. ❤️ 

You can't help but kick your feet at his message. 

You: I sure do, I'll be counting down the days. ❤️ 

Miguel stood up, a little smirk playing on his lips. Man, it felt good to have a special lady in his life again. But, he had more business to get to first. And he knew he couldn't rush this. He did have hopes that this would become something more serious than just a sugar relationship. 

Still, he had to ride that fine line between building something longer lasting, without creating friction between you both at his hang-up when it came to the institution of marriage. That almost always ended up being the reliable nail in the coffin for his previous flames. But that was a future problem to worry about. 

M❤️: What are your plans this evening? 

You sat up, chewing your lip at the sight of your backpack, knowing you should probably get a head start on the ample workload you were issued by your microbiology and health science professors. 

You: Just homework for the most part. 😮‍💨 I have soo much this week. 

M❤️: I'm sorry to hear that, cariño. The sooner you get to it, the sooner you can rest. ❤️

Your heart fluttered a little. 

You: Miguel, what does cariño mean? 

M❤️: It's a term of endearment, such as sweetheart or dear. Is it alright if I call you that? 

You bite your lip and feel a heat in your cheeks coming on. 

You: Absolutely, I love it when you do. It makes me feel special.❤️ 

M❤️: You should feel special, cariño. Because you are, very special to me... ❤️ Did you eat dinner? 

A grumble in your stomach answered his question for you. 

You: No, haha... Not yet. 

Miguel pauses, dialing Noir while he stands up, crossing the room, trying to secure a pair of cufflinks onto his dress shirt as he reaches for his suit coat that's hanging from the coat rack by a large TV. 

After he hangs up, he texts you again while checking his reflection before he leaves. 

M❤️: Noir is bringing you dinner. Please text him and let him know what you'd like as soon as you can, okay? I will also have him grab groceries for you tomorrow. Be sure to also send him a list of things you need when you get the chance. 

Your heart swells with gratitude and your mouth waters as you envision your favorite pizza from your favorite local joint which sounds perfect right about now. This might have been the most you ate in weeks, as a matter of fact, all thanks to this angel of a man. 

You: Thank you sooo sooo much Miguel 😭❤️

M❤️: You're very welcome, cariño, just want to make sure my girl doesn't go hungry. ❤️ I have to go to a business dinner right now, so I won't be able to answer any texts until later. When you're done with your studies, give me a call? 

You: Okay, I will. ❤️ 

M❤️: Good. ❤️ Talk to you soon.  

----- 

Noir was on your doorstep a short time later with your pipping hot, favorite pizza, a side order of some gooey, cheesy garlic breadsticks, a side salad, a huge bottled water to keep you hydrated, a brand new luxurious fluffy blanket in your favorite color, matching fuzzy socks with your initials, a pumpkin vanilla scented candle, and fancy moisturizer that wouldn't irritate your skin. 

"Here you are, madam. The doctor wanted to throw these in as well, since it gets drafty up here in the dorms, and since you deserved a little something to pamper yourself." 

"Oh my God, thank you sooo much, Noir!!" you gushed. 

Noir noticed the snide looks coming from your bitter roommates as he handed you your food and presents, but he decided not to say anything about it right now. "Can I get you anything else tonight?" 

"Oh, no, no, that's okay Noir...thank you, you're the best." 

"Course, it's my absolute pleasure to serve you ma'am. The doctor has totally changed my life and given me everything I could ask for, so working for him and making sure his woman is taken care of is the least I can do to pay him back." Noir says with a bow. He tips the brim of his black fedora.

"Enjoy, madam. I'll be here for you at 7:30 am tomorrow morning, be sure to write up your grocery list, too, you hear?" 

You nod and smile and thank him enthusiastically again, walking quickly back upstairs to your room, trying to ignore the hateful stares of your bitter roommates. 

------

Heather shakes her head as she waits for her lean cuisine to finish heating in the microwave. "Y'all, I do not fucking get it. At all." 

"Me neither," Vivian scoffs, taking a bite of her salad at the table next to Isla. 

"I give it a month, tops." Heather replies, opening the microwave. 

Isla is staring off when an idea comes to her. "Why wait a month?" 

"Huh?" The other two look at her with curious stares. 

"Seriously, do we really wanna let this get worse than it already has?" Isla asks. 

The other two shake their heads, remembering all the extra labs they had to do that Dr. O'Hara issued them, no doubt as punishment for messing with his woman. 

"She's gotta go." Vivian agrees. 

"But how?" Heather asks. "She's literally fucking the boss. He's not gonna break up with her so easily..." 

Isla smirks. "But the university might if she makes a fool of herself at the football game." 

----

As you worked on your homework, you looked at your closed door at the sound of your roommates laughing hysterically behind it, half slightly peeved by the loud noises while you were trying to work, half feeling that nagging loneliness you felt in your heart. 

The truth was, even though the trio drove you nuts and could be quite mean, you don't know why, but you still cared about their approval. All you wanted was peace between you four while you shared the space. Deep down, you felt left out and sad at their exclusion of you. You knew you could be quiet and awkward, at times, but you missed having girlfriends.

Getting ready to go out on Friday nights, doing your makeup while crowded around a smudged mirror in your jammies while one of the girls played music on their phones, talking excitedly about the night ahead and complaining about the boys you were talking to. Sharing clothes, studying together, slumber parties, talking about things that would be considered TMI with anyone else. Girlhood. 

You just wanted to belong. Just wanted someone to talk to and have your back. Sure, you had Miguel now, but you needed space for friends too. You were starting to get worried at how much you craved the sound of his voice and his company. How much you started to rely on him mentally and emotionally. You knew he was a busy man and he could only be there for you so much. 

Suddenly you're a little girl again on the playground during recess, wondering why nobody wanted to be your friend. Wondering why you weren't interesting enough or why you were so weird that you couldn't make people stay. 

You felt a lump build up in your throat as you tried to work in the darkness of your room while they laughed together outside, holding back tears. 

---

A quiet knock comes at your door and you clear your throat, trying to dry your eyes. "C-come in!" 

The trio enters your room. Isla's eyes land momentarily on the new bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk but move quickly back to you. "Hey girl." 

The other two sit on your bed. 

"Are you crying?" Heather asks in a concerned tone. 

"N-No..." You sniffle. 

"Aw, girl..." Vivian pouts, putting a soft hand on your shoulder. 

Your lip trembles as you try to fight off your tears unsuccessfully. 

"Hey, we were hard on you, and we wanna apologize." Isla says, plopping down on your bed, the others hum in agreement. 

"Come to the football game with us tomorrow night!" Vivian says, piping up. "It'll be fun." 

"Yeah we can start over, have some girl time. A couple of our guy friends are coming too! It'll be chill. And we're getting milkshakes afterwards at  Caddy's diner like we always do."  Heather says with a smile. 

"Please?" Isla asks, giving you a grin. "Whaddya say?" 

"O-o-okay..." You manage a weak smile. "Thank you guys...I, I don't want us to fight either, *sniff* and I'm so sorry if rubbed any of you the wrong way about anything or offended you." 

"Of course not!" Isla says with a wave of her hand. "Seriously, I mean, look, if you're dating Dr. O'Hara, good for you. Get that bag girl." She utters the last sentence with some difficulty, but her tone remains light and friendly, you don't notice. She flashes her lovely smile at you. "We'll get ready in Vivian's room around 4, then we gotta be ready to leave by 6." 

"I have a really really cute shirt you can wear!" Heather offers. 

"Um, who's all coming?" You ask, sitting up. 

"It's us, you, then Heather's boyfriend Chase, and Chase's friends: Jaden, Alex, and I think his name is Will? Yeah, Will." Vivian says with a smirk.

"He's so hot..." Isla says biting her lip. 

"Girl, he is your ex's cousin, sit down!" Heather throws a pillow at Isla. 

"Oh my goddd let me liveee, dammit!" Isla giggles throwing it back, the pillow hitting you in the face on accident. "Oops! My bad girl I'm so sorry!" Isla pulls you into a hug, catching you off guard as Sexy Angel perfume from Victoria's Secret assaults your nostrils as she hugs you. 

"Okay, anyway, see you tomorrow girl. Remember, 4pm, my room!" Vivian points at you as she follows Heather and Isla out, shutting the door behind her. 

You feel a little uneasy but you feel the most hope you've felt in weeks after all the tension. Finally, maybe you could be chill with your roommates, and even make some new friends. 

------

Miguel waves his room key in front of his lavish hotel room door, entering it with a sigh as he loosens his tie. He smiles widely at the incoming call from you on his phone. 

"Hey," he says with a smile. You can hear the warmness in his voice from over the phone, the sound alone causing you to feel tingles all throughout your body. 

"Hi, Miguel." You say with a smile, laying back on your pillow. 

"How was your day, did you get all your work done?" 

"Yee-up." You say, popping the "p" at the end of your sentence. 

"Good girl." 

Oh God, that was hot. 

"How was your day, Miguel?" You ask him, trying to keep the conversation flowing and give you something to focus on other than his tantalizing voice. 

"My day wasn't bad." He admits. He starts to unbutton his shirt, putting the phone on speaker.

"Just had a productive chat with a few stakeholders about some investments. I admit, I'm not one for social events." He chuckles. 

The corner of your mouth twitches. "Haha, me neither. Guess we have that in common." 

"Guess we do." Miguel agrees with a hum. 

You smile, fiddling with one of your hoodie strings as you continue to talk to him, "Well, the trio invited me to a football game tomorrow night." 

"Oh?" Miguel slips out of his pants and lies down in bed with a small grunt of relief. "I thought you four didn't get along?" 

"I thought we didn't either." You admit. "But they apologized and invited me. They admitted they don't mind my relationship with you and wanted to start over fresh." 

Miguel nods slowly, feeling a little suspicious about this. He's seen how ugly people can be to one another, particularly if the nasty feeling of jealousy is involved, taking nothing off the table of the lengths someone would go to get what they wanted. 

"Just, be careful, cariño. I don't want to see you hurt. If they treat you poorly again, you're to tell me immediately, understood?" 

"I'll be okay, promise." You try and reassure him, but Miguel doesn't feel too convinced.  

"I trust you, cariño. I'm just not sure I trust them." He tells you gently. "You deserve good friends who are supportive and lift you up, not tear you down." His eyes fill with compassion as he speaks to you on the phone, a little astounded at how you manage to tug at his heart strings even hundreds of miles away, a feeling of needing to protect you and make sure you were safe, even if he couldn't physically be there. 

"Would you let me have Noir drive you? You're welcome to invite your friends to ride with. I'll just feel much better about it if he's there to keep an eye on things." 

You hesitate, but think about it. This might be a good way to get on the trio's good side, if you can let them into your new world of luxury a little bit. It kind of felt wrong to use Dr. O'Hara's wealth to win the favor of your roommates. But he was offering, and you'd do anything to improve your living situation at this point. 

"Okay...yeah, that works." You answer. "I'll tell them he can drop us off and pick us up. Thank you, Miguel." 

"You're welcome, cariño." Miguel says quietly with a smile. "Have fun tomorrow, and be safe okay? Don't be afraid to stand up for yourself." 

"I will, I will." You say with a smile, brushing him off. 

There's silence on the other line for some time before Miguel speaks again. 

"Well, I wanted to talk some more tonight, because there's still a lot that I don't know about you yet." 

You sit up a little in bed, "Y-yeah, of course...ask away." 

He asks a few questions about your family and your childhood and you answer them honestly, finding yourself turning into an open book as you give him your life story, telling him all about your parents and siblings, your theories about why your upbringing may have effected your personality and so on. 

And he listens quietly and intently, all of his attention undivided and owned by you completely in this moment. A small feeling endears himself closer and closer to you with every word you speak. You're so enriched with everything you have to say. You're insightful and intelligent and interesting. You doubt yourself. You're a pure soul who seems to feel lonely sometimes like he does, empathizing for how difficult it can be to relate to others and how the weight of becoming an adult and trying to support yourself through school was much more staggering than you expected. 

You're a selfless, kind woman who would even give away the last of what she had to a man like him who had the world at his disposal, reaffirming that his choice to make you his was a resoundingly wise one. 

A match between you two that was even more well suited for one another than he anticipated. Nevermind the difference in your ages, nevermind that you were originally an employee. There's something special here that he underestimated. It's jarring and it's refreshing. 

It's eerily perfect, even causing himself to re-evaluate his wishes from the beginning to not even think about brushing shoulders with the question of matrimony. He's dizzy with all of these sudden epiphanies he's experiencing within just a hour or two of talking to you on the phone. Then, you say something that causes you to laugh loudly. 

Miguel feels a warm feeling in his body at the sound of your laugh. It's infectious and hearty. And he'd be lying if he said the dimming lights of the city outside his hotel room and the sound of your voice weren't making him feel...a little needy by this point. 

What, with how physically attracted he already found himself to you in the beginning, now you've revealed the contents of your soul to him and in turn demonstrated you're nothing like anyone else he's been involved with in the past. It was too easy not to find himself agonizingly tempted by simple desires. He's only a man. 

"What are you up to this evening, my dear?" He asks in that rich voice of his. 

"Just laying in bed..." You say, stifling a yawn. 

Miguel hums. You bite your lip. Something about his voice had you missing him. You just poured out your heart to him, pulling yourself closer and closer to him with every layer of yourself that you stripped away and revealed to him. You find yourself comfortable with him, desiring him more than you already had, maybe even letting you toy with the idea of putting a more intimate physical relationship back on the table, knowing that Dr. O'Hara was the kind of honorable man he was. You'd love to give yourself to someone like him. 

The sun was well below the horizon at this point, the darkness going straight to your head and traveling in a more sensual, suggestive direction. 

"...and missing you..." You add with a little smirk. 

"Mmm..." Miguel sighs. 

Oh boy.

"Yo tambien te extraño..." (I missed you too) His voice is dripping with something suggestive, almost sly. 

"What does that mean?" You ask breathlessly, playing with your necklace pendant. 

Miguel smiles. "Means I've missed you too..." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mhmm...." 

"Mmm..." 

"You teasing me, cariño?" 

"Teasing you?" You bite your lip. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Careful..." 

"What?" 

"Heh...well..." Miguel looks around, despite being the only soul in his hotel room. "You're making me feel a certain way." 

"Like what?" You bat your eyes innocently. 

"Don't play coy." Miguel says firmly. "Like..." he sighs. "You're making me feel like I want to break those damn rules in the contract." 

You relax your shoulders and exhale deeply out, the ache between your legs only growing more and more demanding. You really wanted it to continue, "I don't mind..." 

"I'm serious, cariño." Miguel warns. "I'm not going against any boundaries we set together. Not unless you're completely sure..." 

"I'm sure..." You whisper quietly to him, a faint groan rolling off your tongue as you draw out the last syllable. 

"Ay por Dios..." (Oh my God) Miguel chuckles, turning red and biting his lip, hundreds of miles away. "Are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?" 

"Maybe..." You tease, enjoying this effect you're having on him. 

"Not tonight, baby..." Miguel says gently. "Not tonight..." 

"Miguel..." You whine, your body still hungry, begging for some form of release, your desire hanging untapped, parched for his loving attention, the low timbre of his voice driving you mad. 

"I wish you were here with me..." 

"Oh cariño..." he groans, unable to disguise his mutual craving. "I wanna be there too..." He slowly licks his full lips. "I'll make it up to you, baby."

"Yeah?" You whisper. 

"I swear." He promises you. "It needs to be special and perfect the next time we're together. We'll take our time but I won't hold back as long as you're completely comfortable and okay with it." 

You giggle, biting your cheek and clenching at the thought. "I definitely am..."

 

"Beautiful..." He murmurs. "You've given me something else to look forward to all week." 

"I don't think I can wait that long..." You say breathlessly. 

"I don't think I can either." Miguel admits, letting out a chuckle of his own. "Oh....the things you do to me. You've no idea, cariño. Get some sleep now, yeah?" 

As soon as you hung up you both fucked yourselves to oblivion in your separate beds, minds completely drunk with only thoughts of the other hundreds of miles away. 

-----

You're all smiles as Noir picks you up the next day, barely able to function during work, only thinking about Miguel and the fun night you have planned with your girlfriends at the college football game as you sip your large iced coffee and munch on your heated pastry Noir bought you that morning, courtesy of Miguel's Platinum American Express. 

Your heart does flip flops when you find your newest surprise from him in the backseat of the car after work: a Pandora bag with shimmery tissue paper and a lavender bow, eyes widening when you pull out a gorgeous white gold charm bracelet, complete with a crystal heart dangling from it with a note from Miguel. 

 

Can't let those boys at the football game think that you're not taken. ❤️ Be safe tonight, and I'll see you very soon. Thank you for being so open with me last night. I love where this is going. Call me later. 

You haven't left my mind once since the day I met you. 

Love, Miguel

------

"Nuh uh!!! No freaking way!!" Heather, Vivian, and Isla squeal as they run towards the Mercedes, hand in hand while Noir held the door open for them with a humble smile. 

"I always wanted to ride in a G wagon..." Heather's eyes dart around the interior, feeling the leather seats as though she needed to physically touch them to believe they were real. 

"Ladies." Noir says as he comes to the door, holding a box of large, gourmet cookies nearly as big as your hand with frosting that matched your college's spirit colors, along with elegant glass bottles of sparkling lemonade. "A little game day treat for you from the doctor." 

Your face erupted into a grateful smile as your friends gushed and raved about the snacks, relishing the bite of the warm chocolate chip cookie that practically melted in your mouth and the refreshing lemonade that left a little fizz behind on your tongue. Miguel was so damn thoughtful. 

Once you arrive at the game, Noir helps all of you out of the car. "Anything else you need, miss?" Noir asks you as he shuts the door. 

"Um, no, I should be good. Thanks Noir!" 

"You're welcome. I'll be waiting out front for your entourage when the game is over. Have a good time, miss. Call me if you need anything." 

You smile and turn, jogging to catch up to the others. Noir nods and drives off, parking the car only a short distance away in Miguel's designated VIP parking spot in the front row of the stadium parking lot, hanging a special tag in the window. 

Noir gets out, pulling his collar of his trench coat little higher up on his neck in a semi-incognito fashion. You don't know he'll be watching you, and he feels a little bad about that, but, at the same time, he can't say no to the boss. He had good reason to keep an eye on you anyway. Your friends seemed too good to be true, and he had kind of a bad feeling about tonight, their jealousy at not being chosen by Dr. O'Hara rendering them blind. 

As you find your seats, you're sat in between Isla and Will, a friend of Heather's boyfriend, Chase. Will is tall and muscular, a lacrosse player according to Isla. His green eyes lock onto you immediately, a fact not gone unnoticed to Isla's dismay and simmering jealousy. First Dr. O'Hara and now Will? What on Earth was so special about you? 

Will keeps trying to make small talk with you. You try to discourage him with one word answers but he doesn't seem to get the hint, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders when he notices you shivering with the dropping temperature in the stadium. You immediately thought of Miguel but you were utterly freezing, so you decided to accept the gesture for now, praying that he'd take it as platonic. 

Isla seeths quietly when she watches him give you his jacket. Time to put her idea into motion. 

"Hey!" She smacks Heather who's getting handsy with Chase on the other side of her, handing her a bottle of vodka. You feel your blood run cold. There were strict no alcohol rules in the college stadium. The consequences ranged from ejection from the game to as severe as possession charges, intoxication, or even explusion from the university. 

Heather giggles and takes the bottle, looking around and taking a generous shot before passing it to Chase, who passes it to Vivian and the other two guys before it travels back to Isla. She takes a shot, throwing her head back and wincing as she hands you the bottle. 

"N-No thanks." You push the bottle back towards here. 

"Dude," she hisses. "Come on, don't be a little bitch." 

Will interrupts, taking the bottle from her and taking a shot, shooting you a playful wink. "Don't be shy." 

You feel your cheeks get warm under his gaze, Miguel's face coming to your mind again and immediately shaking your head. "No...no thank you." 

"C'mon." Will smirks. "Cute girl like you doesn't like to have some fun?" 

Isla's face is boiling but it melts into a cheesy grin when you turn back to face her. "Right? She's just  adorable huh? Little goody two shoes we like to call her." She elbows you playfully. 

You're getting quite uncomfortable at this point, your eyes searching nervously all around the stadium, trying to make sure nobody around was catching wind of what your group was doing. 

"We all took a shot, now you have to!" Vivian leans over, shaking your knee. She starts chanting your name in a sort of taunt. The guys quickly hopping on the band wagon, hooting and egging you on. 

You're a nervous wreck, just wanting them all to shut up before all of you get kicked out of the university for good, starting to shiver nervously as a couple people nearby you turn around to see what all the commotion was. 

"OKAY!" you snatch the bottle from Isla, bending over and sliding off your seat, taking a quick shot with your head down. You wince and cough uncontrollably as your erratic movements caused some of the alcohol to go down the wrong pipe, wheezing for a moment as the liquor stings and burns down your throat and lungs.

"There ya go, good job." Will pats your back and offers you a sip of his soda to chase it down. You grab it from him, taking several generous gulps without thinking, nearly sputtering again when you discover it's not just soda, but a really strong mixed drink. 

Oh no. 

Will smirks. "Well damn, girl. Slow down." 

You feel your eyes watering up, starting to stumble a little. You hardly drank, so you had absolutely no tolerance, the alcohol flowing and dragging you down like dead weight in the water, a fuzzy feeling in your veins and the outside starting to get real shifty. 

You can't make out much of what's going on around you but it sounds like Isla and the girls are taunting you again and making jokes at your expense, trying to dare you to flash your tits to the guys.

 "C'mon girl, no balls you won't do it!" Heather and Vivian taunt, the guys around you looking at you like fresh meat.

You're utterly sick and confused and drunk, wanting nothing but Miguel to come in and sweep you away from this madness. Confused why your supposed friends were throwing you on display like some sort of sick circus act, expecting you to act like a slut just to appease their disgusting guy friends. 

"S-stop..." You slur, falling backwards as Isla grabs at the hem of your shirt, trying to lift it up. 

"Don't worry, I got you." Will mumbles. You stare up at him in horror and cringe as you smell the strong stench of alcohol on his breath as he's practically putting you in a headlock, one of his hands tries to grope your clothed breasts. 

"N-No!" You whine.."Please!" 

Will is suddenly yanked backwards. Noir flips him so Will is facing him before he utterly decks him in the nose, Will letting out an inhuman noise as he falls to the ground. Noir looks at him like he's scum on the bottom of his shoe before landing a nice kick into the middle of his stomach. Will lets out a large grunt, wheezing pathetically on the stadium floor. 

By now, everyone's looking at you. You're disheveled and terrified with your clothes askew. Noir wraps you in his arms, scooping you up like you weigh nothing.

"You alright, doll face?" His eyes search you with worry. 

You don't answer, just whimper with a trembling lip, shaking your head no as you hang your head in shame, resting your forehead against his chest as you shudder with a sob. 

Noir shoots a glare at your group of so called friends. "You will be dealt with accordingly," He threatens with a growl before getting you out of there.  

The stadium police come swarming, ignoring Noir because they recognize him as one of the assistants of the most powerful man in Nueva York (and the university's top donor). They surround the group, pulling the girls out of their seats and putting Will in handcuffs before ejecting the rest of them from the game. 

-----

Noir tucks you in the backseat of the Mercedes, giving a soft pat to your hair and several murmured apologies as he speeds quickly away. He dials Miguel, and you can hear Miguel's enraged voice booming through the speakers. 

"Bring her to the estate immediately. I'll meet you there." 

"Yes boss." 

"I need the first and last names of EVERYONE involved in this fucking mess." 

"Y-yes boss. Don't worry. Campus police are aware and they're handling it as we speak." 

"Not good enough!" Miguel hisses. I will be handling this now." 

"Yes, doctor, understood." 

"Get her to me safely, Noir." 

"I will, doctor." 

"Thank you." 

Noir hangs up, taking a deep breath.

Those people picked the wrong man to fuck with this time. Miguel would make them pay for what they did to you. 

"I feel sick..." you groan. 

"Hold on, madam....it's alright, we're almost there." Noir eyes the speedometer as it's pushing 110 miles per hour, the countryside zipping past the windows in what seems like mere light seconds. 

You whimper and hold your head in your hands, trying so hard not to vomit as Noir drives furiously towards Miguel's mansion in the countryside. 

----

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[carolmunson]

wake up slow | barista!steve harrington

entry for my fall frenzy requests this request comes in from @superblysubpar: 'there's a scenario with bookstore / library date AND a dialogue prompt that says "what are you reading?"' with steve harrington summary: it's 1990. you're on the opening shift at the bookstore you work at, only to be surprised at a newcomer claiming to be up for an interview for the open barista position in the cafe at the back. sort of put off to start, it's no surprise when things start to bloom over time, and i'm not talking about coffee grounds. tl;dr carol writes a mini romcom.

tw: minors dni, there's nothing too out of whack in this one but i still don't want minors in here. reader is a little sassy but also like, pretty normal overall.

That damn key jams every time it rains -- doesn't help that you left your umbrella at home. Doesn't help that the 'light mist' turned into a heavy downpour the closer you made it to the book store. Doesn't help that you had to park a street over because of street cleaning and had to walk a block in the rain. Now the damn key.

"Come on," you grumble, jiggling an wiggling to no avail. Insert, r-insert, slight tilt to the right, jiggle, pull out a little, turn a little left and then -- nothing. You take the key out only for it to fall to the ground with a fairy like tinkling.

"Come -- the fuck -- on," you nearly growl under your breath while your coat gets heavier and heavier with rain, hood soaking through and dripping water onto your face. You bend down to get the key with a sigh meant for people with back pain, coming back up again to see the coffee bar manager on the other side of the glass door. He chuckles, salt and pepper beared thick over his chin and cheeks. Ruddy skin beams red even in the cool grey light of the morning, 30 years a butcher who pivoted into coffee when he turned fifty and had a really good knack for it.

"Easy morning?"

"Does it look like one, Carl?" you ask, stepping in when he opens the door. He laughs again, a hearty belly laugh that might as well have transported him into a Santa suit in December. "What happened to you?" he asks, following you into the back room where you start putting your stuff in your cubby. You switch out your wet sneakers and socks for the platform loafers and knee highs in your bag. Now that the fall weathers hit, it's all corduroy and knit sweaters, circle skirts and tall socks. If you're going to be on your fifth year working at an idyllic bookstore, you might as well look the part.

"Weather app lied, street cleaning, forgot an umbrella," you shrug, "Just another manic Monday, y'know?" "I know," he nods, "Gimme one second." Carl comes back with a white paper cup and black lid that makes you smile from the inside out, "Is that what I think it is?" "Isn't it always?" he smiles, "I got it ready the second I saw you on the schedule. Caramel latte, hint of cinnamon. Since its -- ya know, fall officially, I put a little maple in there, too." "You spoil me," you sigh, taking the cup from him and letting the warmth radiate through your hands.

"I do," he nods, "But, that latte was the last of my regular milk so I need to run out and grab a few gallons before we open up. You okay to be hangin' out by yourself?"

You nod, of course you're okay to be hanging out by yourself. You take the first sip, letting the caramel flood your tongue. The maple is a good addition. You're about to tell Carl to add this to the seasonal menu but he's already out the break room door with his coat before you can. You hear the jingle of the bell and the lock of the door and eventually the silence settling into the store around you.

You start to re-organize the window display which should've been done last night but 'last night you' said that 'this morning you' could handle it. You wish you could punch last night you in the face, but this is what you get for taking an assistant manager position.

You stack the back to school reads next to your knees where you're sat on them. The dust billows when you move them, making you sneeze with each turn of your head. You rub at your eyes, realizing at that very moment that the mascara you put on this morning has now definitely smudged -- you can't even find the emotional capacity to check considering the store opens in forty five minutes. You wipe down the display shelves, letting the oak gleam under the spot lights. The color is a warm reminder of the cozy moments to come the way that they do this time of year. As you start separating the 'cozy reads' from your 'spooky reads' in the pile on the other side of your knees you hear a knocking at the door --that's not very like Carl to forget his key.

You look over your shoulder, not seeing Carl at all, and if it is, he had some kind of Seventeen Again magic happen to him in that time at the store. You stand up, wiping off your knees and straightening your skirt before getting to the door where the rapping continues against the glass. "We aren't open yet!" you call out.

"M'here for Carl!" you hear, muffled through the panes. "For the barista spot?" you yell back. The guy nods under his hood, the rain picking up in heavy sheets. You sigh, unlocking the door and letting him in. "Carl's not here, he ran out to get some more milk but um, you're welcome to wait in the break room if you want," you explain, wiping a palm over another display through the main hallway and wiping the dust off on your hip. "Thanks," he says, hood coming down to reveal a head full of thick chestnut hair. A gold ring shines on the the hand that runs through it, looks like a family crest type, right on his middle finger.

"I'm Steve," he says with a smile, hand now outstretched to take yours. You look at it and then at him, finally taking in the sight before you. Prominent straight nose, warm amber eyes, lips that definitely use chapstick regularly. He has a nice smile, the kind you read about in the romance novels in the back of the store, the kind people write about.

You take his hand and introduce yourself, he has a business major handshake and you only know that because you dated a handful of them back in college. You try to stifle a chuckle but it comes out airily out of your nose.

"Something funny?" he asks when you both let go. "No, no, sorry, I just thought of something from the other day," you shake your head, "Don't worry about it." He nods, taking off his coat and closing his umbrella following your lead to the back, "It's a cute place."

"Yeah, it's nice in the morning," you nod, "I normally close but -- doing a favor for a key holder today; so you have the pleasure of seeing the troll of the store in her natural habitat."

"What?"

"Nothing -- nevermind," you shake your head, cheeks burning with a wave of embarrassment when you look back and notice that he's genuinely very handsome. You get to the break room, pointing out the spare cubby where he can hang his coat and umbrella. He's in a sweater you swear you've seen on the Cosby Show -- dark green and patterned, a perfect combination of colors against his skin. It cuffs at the wrists, you can see a sliver of his white t-shirt underneath at the collar, a whisper of a gold chain tucked beneath it.

"Yeah um," you start, feeling your heart start to patter in your chest when he takes a seat at the table by the cabinets, "You can just wait here. I'll let Carl know when he comes back."

"Okay," he smiles, "Thanks."

You nod again, heading into the employee bathroom to collect yourself for a moment -- seeing your reflection. You forgot you had rubbed your eyes, masacra smudged in black smears nearly down to your cheeks. "I look insane," you whisper in horror, "Oh my fucking god."

You cover your face for a moment, trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment racking your chest. Definitely looking like the troll of the store, you silently scream into your palms, another dramatic whisper of, "I should just fucking kill myself."

Despite the humiliation, you know it's funny. This would happen to you. This hot guy would come in when your mascaras a mess and your hair is fucked up from the rain, when the weather is bad and your tights have a run, when your allergies are rampant from the dust. Of course he would!

You wet a paper towel and do your best to wipe off the smudges, happy to look a little less insane after a dab of tinted lip balm makes it onto your lips and cheeks.

When you re-emerge he's fiddling with his CD player and his over ear headphones, working on a knot in the wire. You go back over to the counter and take a sip of your forgotten latte.

"What do you drink?" he asks.

"Carl makes it special for me, it's not on the menu," you tell him over the black plastic top before taking another sip. He grins, a soft nod moving his hair with him -- so it's like that. "I didn't ask if it was on the menu. I asked what you drink," he says, leaning back in the chair. His eyes lingering on you sends a zip up your spine, wondering if he's giving you a once over or not.

"It's a caramel latte with maple and cinnamon," you tell him. His confidence both intruiges and enrages you, both making you want to tell him to get out but also learn more about this hot guy that wants to be a barista with a Wall Street handshake, "So why do you wanna work here?"

"Is this the start of my interview?" he laughs.

"No, I'm just wondering," you shrug.

"I'm back in school about twenty minutes away," he says, "Did it for a little when I was in high school -- coffee, I mean. Ice cream shop after that, video store after that. Went to school, took a break, back in it. My dad thinks having jobs like this builds y'know -- character and whatever."

"Jobs like this?" you ask, jaw tensing with annoyance.

"Like, y'know, jobs with the people," he tries to explain, pink building on his cheeks when he realizes he might've said something shitty, "They're not like bad jobs, that's not what I mean -- I mean like, y'know -- not suits kind of jobs. Regular shit."

"Regular shit," you nod, biting back what you wanna say. That gold crest ring should've been enough to tip you off, but your next question is the ace in the hole, "What're you back in school for?"

"Getting my MBA."

Of course.

"Nice," you lie, fake smiling into your next sip -- the latte going cold as your insides when you come to the conclusion that he's just some hot grade A asshole, "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," he calls out while you make your way back to the floor, "I really like your name, by the way! It suits you."

You try not to let that compliment change your mind.

He gets the job, but you don't see him a lot. He opens an then goes to classes at night, you close most of the time -- only catching him really in the first hour of your shift and the last hour of his. You're both too busy to be finding time to talk; him with his mid-shift clean and you with your hourly sales goals and mid-day schedule re-adjustments.

But he does wave when you come in. He calls out your name when you bustle past the coffee counter and weave through the tables to get to where you need to go. It's nice of him, you guess, but the stain of him explaining that the job he's doing is just for regular people taints it for you. Maybe he thinks you're just some menial worker bee that he only knows for now, since his daddy probably has a job lined up for him once he pays through his masters degree.

Job with a suit where the bookstore will be a distant memory for him, whereas you're on a two year track to becoming the manager and likely future owner when the owners get too old to manage it. Job with a suit where he'll pass by the store and shake his head at 'how stupid it was', a 'can you believe people work there?' head toss to a coworker while he get a coffee somewhere else. Meanwhile, it's your entire life, and so are all the stories inside.

A few weeks pass and the days get a little colder, the nights starting earlier as they go. You have an opening shift that chills your bones, hugging your wool coat tight to your body while you fiddle with the key at the door, groaning at the tinkling of it hitting the concrete again.

"Rough morning?"

You look up to the door opening, seeing a pair clean white Nike Air Force 1's singaling who it is.

"It is now," you mumble, grabbing the key and bustling inside.

"Surprised to see you here," he says, following you to the back, "You're not on the schedule." "Last minute switch up, Rochelle has a christening," you say, hanging your coat in the cubby and switching out your sneakers for platfoms again.

"Oh, nice," he grins, "So why is it a rough morning? 'Cause I'm here?"

"Sorta kinda," you shrug, "Did you alread--"

"I got sales report from yesterday on the check out desk, yes," he crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame.

"And th--"

"And the inventory report, and before you ask, yes I checked that all the milk is in stock and that we aren't low on beans. I've been here for a month, honey, I know what I'm doing," he mutters.

"Gross," you pull a face at him over your shoulder, "Don't call me honey."

He shrugs with a smirk, "Rochelle likes it."

"Can you go skulk to your caffeine den and leave me alone?" you snap, "I'm trying to open a store, here."

"Skulk, huh?"

"Too big of a word for you, Harrington?"

"You're on fire this morning," he smiles, that smile they write about.

"I kinda like it," he adds before turning out of the door and back into the warm light of the store towards the coffee bar. You swallow while you watch him leave -- I kinda like it ringing in your ears and floating down to your chest where is settles in, cozy and kind.

The reports are where he said the would be, neat and organized like he was the manager and Carl was his employee. You normally spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out what Carl had written in chicken scratch on the forms, but Steve's sharp and elegant script was easy to read and perfectly spaced. Annoying.

Even his signature was handsome.

After you get the registers counted and ready you file the forms and mark the reports so they'll be ready for your manager when they get back in store. You check the list of what needs to be done, the chilly late October air swooping in from the cracks under the door. Your face sours while you make your way over to the coffee bar in the back, seeing Steve set up the pastry delivery in the cases on the side.

"Did you come back here to yell at me about something?" he asks, focused on the task at hand, "I got all morning."

"You didn't turn the heat on," you cross your arms, "That's like, the first thing you're supposed to do."

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head, popping back up to lean on glass of the case, "Did you read your morning report or just sit there and admire my handwriting?"

"Excuse me?" you bite back.

"Heats fucked," he shrugs, ducking back down to finishing his display, "They're sending someone to take a look at it later today."

"Whatever," you grumble, turning on your heel to go dust the front shelving and reshelf the returns from yesterday.

"Hey," he calls out, waiting for you to turn around before he continues. Your eyes catch his amber ones, sparkling with a mischief reserved for school boys who are mean to the girls they like, "You look nice today."

You look him over, sucking in your cheeks to kill the smile growing on your lips. His navy sweater hugs a bit across his chest and shoulders, giving way to billow slightly over his midsection and arms. Kahki chinos cut just at his ankles so his sneakers don't even look stupid paired with the outfit, socks just the right height to look cool and not forced. Awful.

"Yeah, you too Harrington," you agree quietly before walking away; and while you killed the smile, he was able to catch that crease in your eyes, the twitch in your shoulders. You thought that was nice, he wonders if he can make you do that again.

You head over to the back of the cafe during your break, no windows near your designated 'break chair'. It's close enough to the fireplace that it always feels like a rainy day even when it's nice outside. Now that Carl started his shift he got your drink ready to go the moment you walked over.

"Well la-di-da," Steve cocks his head when Carl walks over to greet the customer at the register, rag in his hands wiping up the pick up counter, "Expert service and you're not even gonna tip?"

"Here's a tip: leave me alone when I'm on break," you bite. Why did he have to be so handsome? Slight pink on his cheeks from the heat of the espresso and coffee machines, the lights overhead. The heat finally works again and it's almost working too well from the small bead of sweat forming above his brow. He runs a big hand through his hair again, the same way he did when you first met him. You try to ingore the way his bicep bulges in his sleeve when his arm stretches.

His tongue runs over his teeth, settling between them for a second before looking straight at you, "Good one."

"That's what you get when you read books," you say sarcastically, "You should try it sometime."

"You should teach me," he leans over the counter, resting his chin on his palm, "Bet you're a great teacher."

You bite your tongue, pulling in your lips and squinting your eyes to keep the smile from brewing a second time. You pick up your mug and sip your latte while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Nothing this time?" he asks, waiting for you second blow. You shake your head no, occupying your mouth with the rim.

"No?" He asks, you shake your head again, somehow glued to the spot under his stare. He slings the rag over his shoulder, still looking at you. "Well I don't wanna keep you standing here," he teases, offering you a wink that is so soul crushingly charming you could just die, "Enjoy your break."

You've never turned around so quickly in your entire life.

The following week you take another opening shift, happy to settle into the quiet of the cafe now that the morning rush of moms, dads, students, and aspiring writers have cleared out. The fire crackles just right, the leather warmed up to your body heat while the book sucks you in further an further. Thirty minutes pass when you hear a shift infront of you, the subtle squeak of leather being sat in with a soft crunch.

"What're you reading?"

You peer over the top of the spine to see Steve sat in the chair across from you, legs open wide while he leans his forearms on his knees. His long fingers slide together, gold ring shining in the light again to remind you of who he is and where he comes from. As handsome as he is today in his black henley and white t-shirt combo you'll never quite forget the fact that some MBA bro is perched in front of you like a puppy with nowhere to go.

"Sound out the cover, that should tell you," you boredly mumble before tucking back into the chair. His fingers peak over the spine, pushing the book down from the top. He pulls the leather chintz closer to yours with ease -- of course he does.

"Or you could tell me," he says with a softness you weren't ready to hear. Your chest gets warm again, creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

"It's Pride and Prejudice."

"S'that your favorite book or something?" he asks, elbow driving into his thigh so he can rest his chin on his fist.

"One of them," you shrug, "I always read it this time of year, kind of fits the mood of the season."

"Hm," he nods, like he's really listening, "What's it about?"

"Basically," you start, thinking of a way to describe it in two sentences or less, "It's like -- hm -- it's about two people, a love story. One guy is some super rich asshole and he's a jerk because the girl isn't as rich and him. And the girl isn't from the same social standing so she's a jerk because she already assumes that he's a super rich asshole. Like...I don't know, idiots in love who are too stubborn to love each other."

"Hm," he nods again, grin splitting his face, "Interesting."

"What's your favorite book?" you ask, wanting to wipe that smug grin right off his face. His dumb handsome face with that perfect sloped nose, and eyes that look like they're looking directly into you.

"I don't have one," he shrugs.

"You have to have one," you balk, "Like, even if it's one you read in school or something." "Hmm," he sits back up, leaning back in the chair with his hands resting just under his chest.

"You have to know how to read to run a business," you shrug.

"I know how to read, honey," he laughs, "I just don't have a favorite book."

"At least try," you ecourage, albiet annoyed. He taps his fingers on his diaphragm, one knee bouncing while he thinks about it. His shirt rides up just a smidge in the back, revealing a sliver of skin you didn't think you'd ever see.

"Shel Silverstein," he says finally, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

"You didn't strike me as a poetry guy," you say, closing your book over your finger to hold your place.

"My mom went through this poetry phase -- and I'm my mother's son, so I had a poetry phase with her," he shrugs, "We wore that book out, think we had to get a second copy cause the first one was just like -- destroyed."

"Well that's...you know," you lean your head from side to side, "That's nice. It's cute."

"You'd know, right?" he smiles, that god damn smile Shel would write about in a new book. You'd bring back book burning just to throw it in the flames after it was published. He gets up, disappearing behind you for a moment and reappearing with your favorite green mug. He gingerly places it on the side table next to you.

"Compliments of the chef," he says, presenting it like a Michelin star meal.

You look at it, a perfect pour -- the cream rosetta leaf striking against the warm brown espresso. You can smell the caramel and maple already wafting off it, cinnamon sprinkled delicately on top.

"Um, thanks," you say quietly, taking the mug to your lips. He looks down at you eagerly when you take a sip, waiting for your reaction.

"Did you do something to it?" you ask before you take one.

"No I'm just -- damn, come on. I'm excited to see you try it," he sighs, "I worked hard on it."

"Fine, fine," you murmur, letting the latte flood onto your tongue. Its -- regrettably -- one of the best iterations of you've had in a while. The perfect creaminess without being too milky, enough caramel and maple without being too sweet, the espresso's bitterness cuts the sugar in just the right way to make it smooth. He knows he did it right by the way you go for a second sip without saying anything.

"I did good?" he quirks a brow.

"You did good," you nod.

"Good," he smiles, tapping the top of your chair, "'Cause Carl's putting it on the menu starting in November."

"How come?" you ask into your third sip, the steam billowing over your cheeks.

Steve lets his eyes flicker over your face slowly, offering a half shrug, "I told him to."

November brings the first pre-season snow, not that it mattered now that your favorite drink was a regular menu item now. Caramel and maple always in stock, espresso machine always on first thing in the morning.

You open twice a week now, seeing Steve more often than not. Dropping your key became less common now that he was normally at the door when you'd get there, ready to let you in.

"Another great day, right?" he'd tease.

Now that the holidays were in full swing the bookstore was busier than ever -- sales, bundles, events. You even started carrying children's coloring books and crayons in the kid's section; a whole set up just for kids to sit and color while their parent's browsed.

The stress was getting to you, constantly checking and rechecking the end of day sales versus last year, wanting to make sure everything was on a steady incline with a nice cushion for the next. It helped that the cafe seemed to be absolutely climbing in numbers since September. More and more people wanted to spend time over there, and the more time they spent the more time they looked at books or started reading. It wasn't shocking to see people checking out at the counter with a second coffee and a new book or two in hand.

You don't want it to be true, but you're sure the new barista had a play in what makes so many people stick around. You'd see the way Steve would flirt when he took orders, how he's listen to them intently, make every customer feel like they were the only person in the room.

At least that's how he'd make you feel when he caught your gaze from over the shelving, helping find books for new patrons from the college nearby. You both started to wave at each other at each passing glance, each look caught by surprise, each accidental yearning stare.

Mid-November greets you with a bitter chill, the very early morning doesn't even have the decency to greet with you the rising sun. It'll be atleast another half hour until then.

For the first time in a long time you don't drop the key, pushing into the store with ease. You waste no time turning the heat on, making sure the radiators bled a bit before hand. You rub your hands together while they settle in, putting your coat away in the cubby and switching out your shoes in the break room.

Opening on a Saturday morning isn't common for you, but it's the first event you've planned by yourself. A very simple read-along story telling with some kids from the neighborhood and their parents. You collected three solid winter time reads: The Mitten, The Snowy Day, and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. A solid hour of reading while the parents could peruse, or sit and watch while their kids tuned into a book instead of cartoons on Nick Jr.

Once you've given yourself the onceover for the morning you feel more confident about the upcoming next few hours. Your knit tights fit snugly over your legs, a touch sheered out with the stretch over your thighs but the pleats in your plaid maroon skirt cover that just fine, hitting just above your knees -- still covered, still sensible. Still cute enough to snag a single dad if one were to show up.

Your feet stay tucked in a pair of worn in platform mary-janes stolen from your sister's New York City closet when you went to visit her over the summer. The chunky knit sweater over the whole ensemble completes you, a spitting image of a 'caught on the street' look you saw in a Seventeen magazine that you still get delivered to you despite being well past the age group.

You thrifted the sweater with Steve in mind, it looked like something he'd wear.

Anyway.

As you set up the 'reading rug' in the cafe area you hear the familar unlocking of the door. The sun finally starting to seep in in golden shards through the panes, leaving squares of light on the wood floors and carpets below.

"Hey Carl!" you call out, "I got everything up and running for you."

You hear the keys jingle but not his smoker's cough, not his heavy steps finding their way to the cafe area. Instead you look up to see Steve with his hands on his hips, watching you struggle to move the leather chintz to the back wall as your reading chair.

"Redecorating?" he asks, looking around the cafe. Under his shearling lined aviator jacket is an open hunter green flannel you wouldn't expect to see him in, his white t-shirt underneath hugs tights to his chest and stomach. You unfortunately noticed how great of a view that is for you.

"Um," you started, looking around the room and the dissaray you seem to have made without realizing, "Why are you here?"

"Same reason your here," he says, stepping forward to shoo you away from the chair, "I'm on the payroll."

"You don't work weekends," you say, crossing your arms over your chest while he lifts the chair over the rug with a soft grunt.

"I do today," he says with a slight strain, "Where do you want this?"

"Uh," you start, "Just right in the center against the wall so everyone can see me."

"Oh, so you're reading to the kids this morning?" he laughs to himself after putting the chair down. He wipes his hands off on each other, shrugging off the jacket and holding it in one arm, "Bitter Betty is gonna entertain the young minds of Main Street?"

"Bitter Betty, huh?" you challenge, following him into the back room, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean," he shakes his head.

"I am very sweet," you tell him, a serious edge to your voice, "There are so many customer reviews saying how sweet I am."

"Sure," he nods, putting his coat away in his cubby, "I bet there are; since y'know, you're selling them something."

"I'm not just nice when I'm selling something," you say softly, arms coming protectively across your chest. A frustration bubbles in your chest while you look at him, following him back out into the cafe so you can keep getting the place ready before the families start to show up, "You think you know everything."

"I don't," he shakes his head, smiling while he checks over the machines and gets the first pot of coffee started.

"Yeah, you do. You walked in here two months ago and swear you know everything," you huff, getting the cafe back to a place of organized coziness.

"Okay," he chuckles, "Whatever you say, boss."

"You're infuriating," you mumble under your breath.

"Got that caramel latte coming right up for you, by the way," he says warmly.

Your head turns to see him watching you, he smiles, "Maybe you're a little nicer after you've had a coffee."

You smile back, unable to stop it this time.

"So that's a yes, right?" he cocks his head, fingers drumming on the counter while he watches you. That Harringtom charm pumping out at full speed.

"Y-yeah," you nod, "Whatever. You gonna go chop down a tree, Harrington? What's with the flannel?"

He looks down at his shirt and then back up at you with a soft shake of his head, "I better hurry up and get that started for you."

The kids look up at you with starry eyes, their parents smiling along with their coffees, lattes, espressos, and pastries. The Mitten was a hit and The Snowy Day is so far showing up to be a great follow up.

You take your time to really point out the pictures and adding on to the story since all three of them are pretty short. However, you're finding that kids between two and five are pretty easy to entertain if you do enough counting and make enough sound effects. Maybe you should've been a kindergarten teacher -- or maybe not. Maybe you should just keep doing book events.

You're halfway through when you show the illustrations to the group again, listening to them ooh and ahh at all the snow.

"Did um -- Miss -- did you know -- it snowed? It snowed at my house," one of the older kids announces, arm straight up in the air.

"It snowed last week, Michael, that's right," his mom pipes up, "Daddy had to shovel outside."

"Has everyone else seen snow? Raise your hand if you've seen this much snow!" you announce in your perfect parentese, watching while the older kids and parents raise their hands. The two year olds don't really get it so they just sit there and laugh.

You look up at all the hands, an enthusiastic 'Wow!' coming out of your mouth -- but you barely hear it. Behind the hands are a set of warm amber eyes looking at you from the coffee bar, soft and gentle. Enthralled even. You swallow and lick your lips quickly before smiling, catching his smile back as you look back at the book to start again.

After each couple of pages you catch each other, the pink on his cheeks rising when he looks away -- pretending to be occupied with something else. Cleaning, organizing, resetting the espresso machine. He can tell you're flustered by the way you clear your throat whenever you start to read again.

After The Snowy Day you take a ten minute break so that the parents can take their kids to the bathroom or re-up their beverages. The tip jar is full to bursting because nobody knows how to make a single mom feel like Steve Harrington does; and husbands will pay anything to get him to leave their wives alone.

You reset your chair, making sure the books you're reading are on display for purchasing on the shelving close by in your Winter Children's Bundle for a discounted price. As the ten minutes closes up you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

"Here," you turn around to Steve with a green mug in his hands, "It's just regular coffee this time, but -- figured you could use it."

You take it body first, reaching around for the handle only to feel his fingers brush against yours at the hand of. The soft touch isn't electric like it is in the books, it's like that but better. Warm like an oven, the gooey parts of you rising in a slow bake when you see him look down and turn away -- running that same hand through his hair on his way back to the counter.

"Thanks," you say over the chatter of parents and kids coming back to sit.

"Can I have something ready for you for your break?" he asks back.

"Surprise me," you shrug, sitting back on your chintz chair and taking the final book onto your lap. The kids cheer when they see Snoopy on the cover, a well loved favorite cartoon to finish off their morning. With the crack of the spine you can already smell the sales coming once this little event is over.

You work through your break, ringing up and helping customer after customer on easily one of the busiest Saturday's you've seen in a while. It normally doesn't get busy like this at least for another couple of weeks.

The stress of working through lunch barely matters though because your event was a bigger success than you could've hoped for -- logging in the notes for Rochelle that you should probably start doing this throughout the season just for good measure.

It's starting to get dark by the time your shift ends and the store closes -- early on Saturdays at a tight 4 PM. You let your sales girl go a little early, wanting to take the time to close up the store properly since you were the one who made it such a mess this morning. As you start to put the chairs back that had been moved from the cafe to the children's section you hear him, fingers tapping on the counter.

"You didn't come by for your break," he says, "And I put a lot of effort into that drink."

"Sorry, we can't all be flirting through our shifts like you can, Harrington," you snark with a grin, flipping the last chair over onto it's accompanied table.

"You don't have to clean up the coffee part of the store," he says, coming around with another mug in hand, "That's my job, y'know."

"I know," you say, "But I kind of fucked it up this morning so -- just doing my part."

"Well, here," he says, mug outstretched in his large hand, gold ring gleaming back at you, "For doing your part, I guess."

"You guess, huh?" you laugh lazily, taking it -- he places his fingers in a way that you have no choice but to touch them. You wonder if he did it on purpose, "What do you call this one?"

"'Surprise me'," he replies in a mocking drawl, flipping the rag over his shoulder again and leaning against the counter's edge. The first sip is unfortunately one of the most even temperatured hot drinks you've put past your lips.

"You're good at this," you blurt out, almost offended.

"Well don't look so upset about it."

"I am upset about it," you nod back over the lip of the mug, taking another sip. Mocha -- something. It's like hot chocolate and espresso but better, still caramel, still cinnamon, like a hug from your past but caffienated like your present.

"Consider me surprised," you nod, licking your lips again, "It's good -- it's um -- yeah. It's really good."

"Thanks," he smirks, "A few of the mom's thought so, too."

You let out a sigh through your teeth, rolling your eyes. He expected that, taking a step forward when your gaze comes back to center. You can smell the left over wraiths of his cologne and Old Spice deodorant, count the moles on his neck adorned with his hidden gold chain, see the hair on his forearms from his rolled up sleeves.

"You know something," he says quietly, "If I didn't know any better -- I'd think you like me."

"Like you?" you balk, eyes widening, "You wish."

He clicks his tongue when you get so defensive because it just proves him right. He crosses his arms with another step forward, head cocking to the side slightly while he sizes you up. Why did his creator need to make his forearms so beefy? So perfectly sculpted that you can't look at them without losing your train of thought? Stupid.

"I don't think I have to wish, honey," he says softly, Doc Martins creaking on the wooden floors, "I think...uh, I think I must allow you to tell me how ardently you admire and like me."

Your mouth falls open, staring at him with eyes as glassy at the kids who watched you read this morning.

"You -- no -- you read it?"

"Maybe," he says, another step forward, his arms bumping against your chest.

"Maybe?" you ask back, brow quirking.

"Yeah, maybe I did," he runs a hand through his hair, falling back away from his face to show off his sturdy brow bone, watching you with admiration down the slope of his nose.

He reaches down and takes the mug out of your hand with smooth finesse, arm long enough to reach back and place it on the counter behind him. When he leans back in place he's closer than before, toe to toe, nearly nose to nose.

"Maybe I bought it the day you told me about it," he shrugs, "Maybe I thought it was pretty close to something I had goin' on with a girl I know."

"A girl you know?" you challenge. You know exactly who he means, but it might be fun to hear him say it. "Yeah, sometimes I only see her like, an hour a day. But sometimes I get to watch her read on her break, sometimes I get to close with her on Saturdays," he explains warmly, the timbre of his voice deep against the crackling of the fire in the back corner of the cafe.

"This is the only Saturday you've closed with me," you counter, head tilting up slightly, close enough that the tip of your nose brushes his.

"Who said I was talking about you, honey?" he murmurs back, mischief in his eyes that are half hidden by his eyelids. You feel a puff of his breath over your top lip, still minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth.

"We both know you're talking about me," you smirk, self satisfied while his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes. He steps at an angle, making you step back so you're against the pick up counter.

"So sure of yourself," he he scoffs quietly, leaning over you and getting into your space. Each hand coming to the side of you to lean on the granite, caging you in, "I like that in a pretty girl."

"Most do," you shrug matter of factly.

"Yeah," he nods, "Think that's what I like about you."

"Maybe that's what I like about you, too," you nearly whisper out.

"Maybe?" he asks, lower lip ghosting over yours. "Mayb--"

The hand he uses to run through his hair finds itself flat over the back of yours, sliding down to over your cheek and jaw where he keeps you angled just right. He closes the millimeters between you, warm lips catching yours in a kiss that feels like passion but a power play you want to match.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, heads moving in soft tilts when you change angles. When you find yourself sat on the edge of the counter he uses the leverage to pull you close to him, hips between the fullness of your thighs.

His tongue skates over yours when it slides into your mouth, free hand ridding up the soft material of your tights, tips of his fingers inching under the hem of your skirt in an innocent tease.

Even the way he breathes through it is sexy, leaving you with a lingering guess of what he can do when he presses his lips against your neck. Tongue flitting and striping while he nearly nips a bruise onto your skin. You let out a gentle gasp, enough to admit defeat to him -- much to your chagrin. Steve comes back up to your lips to meet you with a few final deep kisses before you break apart.

He steps back once, the deep golden light of the sun setting cracks through the panes of the back window in the cafe, adoring him in a glow that shines of his hair and eyes. The kind of glow they write about, the kind of glow you read about.

You both take deep breaths, eyes hungry for each other -- unsure if you should go for more. He lingers, coming forward again to rest his hands on your thighs.

"I didn't read it," he confesses. "Pfffft. Why am I not surprised?" you huff, exasperated.

"But! But, but, but," he argues back, pecking you feverishly, "I had to go to like, five different places to find the movie from 1980 so -- I did actually put some effort into it."

"I love that one," you say back.

"I get points for that, right?" he asks expectantly.

"Yeah, fine. You're luck you're cute," you explain, "But you do definitely have to read it, at some point. If you wanna keep making out with me in the cafe after closing."

"Oh, absolutely," he grins, hand reaching to pull you in by the back of the neck for a final searing kiss, "You'll have to teach me, remember?"

You of course start closing together every single Saturday.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #barista!steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is having a hard time trying to convince himself that being with you is wrong, but he plans another date anyway. You're floating on cloud nine after Saturday night, but you're quickly brought back down to earth the next time you see him. Lucky for you, Bradley more than makes up for his indiscretion at the end of the night.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was completely stunned, sitting on his living room couch with his soft cock hanging out of his jeans. He heard you start your car, and he saw your tail lights shine through the window blinds as you backed out of his driveway and drove away. 

After nearly a year of being touched by nobody but himself, you got him off so good, he still couldn't move ten minutes later.

"Holy shit," he whispered to his silent living room. You had just given him the best blowjob of his life. His entire life. Bradley had been with his fair share of women, gotten more head than he could keep track of. But you were the best. Hands down, the fucking best he had ever had. 

Maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd been with someone, but he tended to believe it was just you. He was so attracted to you, he should have known you would absolutely blow his mind like that. He should have known you would show up Amanda and Grace and Talia and become the only one he was thinking about. 

Then Bradley cradled his face in both of his hands. You had caught him ready to jerk off with your sweatshirt, moaning your name. How fucking embarrassing. And then you'd agreed to do him a favor and get him off. Your words echoed through his mind, "I can help you with that. If you want."

But you were unattainable. Off limits. The babysitter. Noah was so attached to you. When Nat found out, she was going to lose her mind. And probably not in a good way. Because Bradley was a thirty six year old man with a ridiculous crush on a woman twelve years younger than him. 

He forgot to pay you before you left. Oh god, how was he supposed to pay you after you sucked his cock for him? He was starting to feel worse and worse now. 

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone and messaged back the first random woman who was trying to chat with him in the app. He'd set up another date. He'd set up a million more dates if he needed to. If he didn't get you out of his mind, he'd have to find a different babysitter and break Noah's heart. And probably his own as well.

------------------------

You were still giggly the next day. You couldn't stop thinking about Bradley. You'd given him a blowjob. He had been moaning your name! You wanted to do that again. Maybe he felt the same way about you that you did about him. Your heart was pounding. 

After several texts from Greyson, you decided to keep ignoring him. You had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on, and it didn't help that you knew how big Bradley's dick was and how he tasted. He was bigger and better than Greyson in every way. It wasn't making your day easier envisioning Bradley's eyes practically rolling into the back of his head while you sucked him off, but you indulged in the memories anyway.

The fact that you were masturbating to the thought of him cumming in your mouth when Bradley texted you on Sunday evening should have embarrassed you. But it did not. It made you feel even hotter for him. You really hoped this was him making the next move.

Any chance you're free to come over on Wednesday when you finish your classes?

You bit your lip and squealed, forcing yourself to wait more than five seconds before you texted him back. And when you did, it was with a giddy smile.

I can head over right after class, Daddy. See you on Wednesday.

He didn't end up writing back, but you knew he was busy. So you spent the week avoiding Greyson as much as you could. And when you saw Penny when you were out taking a walk, she waved you down.

"How are things working out with Bradley and Noah?" she asked you with a smile. 

Your mind returned to the velvet feel of his erection gliding over your tongue and the broken, raspy groans of his delicious orgasm.

"Oh, so far so good," you said before pressing your lips together. "Noah is the sweetest child in the world. And Bradley, well. He's actually kind of sweet too."

Penny just laughed and nodded her head. "He really is. When my bartenders found out he's dating again, they both lost their minds. I was thinking about trying to see if he was interested in going out with either of them."

Your heart suddenly felt like it was resting against your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. "Oh. Do they seem like his type?"

Penny laughed harder now. "Bradley's type is female."

Okay, that you did believe. Or rather, you believed any woman who was into guys would be into Bradley. As long as you were cool with Noah, the man was the total package. 

"He only has the most wonderful things to say about you, too," Penny added with a smile. "He said that even though you're so young, he knows he can trust you with Noah. And I don't think he would say that about very many people."

You couldn't decide if that was a compliment or a slight against your age. And when you drove to his house after your final class on Wednesday, you started to feel awkward. Neither of you had mentioned the fact that the last time you were here, you'd had his dick in your mouth. 

"Hi," you called out when you let yourself in, and Noah came running to greet you at the door. You scooped him up in a hug and started to carry him to the kitchen. "Where's your dad?"

Noah just kind of shrugged. "Getting dressed." When you set Noah down at the kitchen table, you immediately noticed a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen counter with Princess scrawled across it. 

You picked it up and took one sip of the French vanilla latte, and then you heard Bradley's voice. "Hey. Princess." You spun around with a bright smile on your face, but his expression had you immediately biting your lip and furrowing your brow. He looked confused and irritated and maybe a little sad. None of those expressions were right for his handsome face.

"Hi," you said softly, hoping you could make him smile. "What are your plans for tonight? Going to try to give me a sore throat again?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, and then you really took in what he was wearing. A nice shirt and chinos. He was going out. He hadn't invited you over to see you at all. 

"Um, actually," he muttered, but you cut him off.

"Actually, you're going on another date?" 

"Yeah." He nodded and briefly met your eyes. "Someone from the app."

He only needed to use you to get his rocks off so he could go out with someone else. God, you were so fucking stupid. He didn't want you at all. He probably thought of you as practically a child. And maybe he found you attractive enough to think filthy things about you, and allow you to suck his dick, but that was it. 

"Okay, have a great time," you said, setting the coffee cup down on the counter. You didn't want another sip. 

"Princess," he whispered, reaching out for you. But you managed to sidestep him as you sat down next to Noah and picked up a coloring book. 

"I hope she's as much fun for you as I was on Saturday night," you said, biting down hard on your lip to keep from screaming at him. 

You felt his presence behind you to the point you could almost feel the warmth of his body. But he didn't say anything, he just placed your coffee cup on the table in front of you, spinning it until the writing was facing you. 

"Thanks for the coffee. I hope you find what you're looking for tonight."

You heard him swallow hard, and then he kissed Noah's head, and then he was gone. And you were left to color some dinosaurs with the kid you wanted to spend all your time with. Too bad his dad was sending you so many mixed signals, you felt like crying. 

----------------------

Bradley felt like an asshole the entire time he was with Gabby. She seemed really sweet, but he couldn't stop thinking about what you said to him. As if you weren't what he was looking for. 

In all actuality, you really were not what he was looking for. But you seemed to be exactly what he wanted. But wanting someone and having long term compatibility were two completely different things. 

"So...." Gabby said for the third time. Bradley could barely focus on her or his dinner. "Tell me more about yourself, Bradley."

He started rambling on about work or some shit. He wasn't even really sure. This conversation was painful compared to the way you and he were together. Or at least the way you and he were before he started to fuck everything up between the two of you. The drunk kissing was bad enough, but the blowjob was just the nail in the coffin of the flirting with you that had him absolutely smitten in the first place. 

Now Gabby was saying something about her job, and he couldn't handle it anymore. "Gabby? Sorry, but I think I'm just too distracted for this tonight."

She glared at him across the table. "Yeah, I noticed. I don't care how handsome you are if you're going to be rude. Pull your head out of your ass next time you ask someone out."

"I'm sorry," he muttered as she stood up to leave, and not a minute later, the waiter arrived with both meals. 

He looked at Bradley cautiously. "Can you pack both of those to go? Please?" Bradley asked. He was going to have to leave this guy a hefty tip, but that was fine. 

He had barely been gone for an hour and a half, and that included driving to the far end of the city. When he pulled into his driveway, he grabbed both meals, and made sure he called out from the front door. "I'm back."

You popped around the corner with Noah in your arms, and Bradley's heart leapt. "You're early," you said in surprise. "We're just about to get in bed." Bradley could tell how tired Noah looked, but he could barely take his eyes off you. 

"Do you want to sing with us, daddy?" Noah asked with a yawn, and Bradley was of course drawn to the two of you like his life depended on it. 

"Of course, bub." A minute later, Bradley was watching you tuck his son into bed while you sang a ridiculous song about dinosaurs that sounded made up. But Noah knew all the words too, and you were both laughing. 

"Night, kiddo," you whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Then you slipped past Bradley without another look in his direction. When he gently reached for your hand, you yanked yourself free and kept walking.

Bradley quickly kissed Noah, and then he was following you into the kitchen where you were packing up Noah's art supplies without a word. There was an open bag of Skittles on the table next to some of your textbooks, and Bradley didn't want you packing those things up. They looked like they belonged there. 

He cleared his throat. "I brought dinner back for you. If you want it."

You laughed a little sarcastically. "I'm not eating another woman's leftovers, but thanks anyway, Bradley." You put your books into your tote bag, and Bradley took a step closer to you.

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed for a beat. He wanted you, and at times like this, he felt like you wanted him, too. "It's not leftovers. My date bailed before the food came out."

Your stomach growled when he opened the takeout containers, and you rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm starving." He let you pick between the two meals, and you chose the one he had ordered for himself. He didn't care, he'd eat his date's food. He could barely even remember what her name was at this point, because you were plating and microwaving the entrees like you lived here. 

"I'll just eat quickly, and then I'll be out of your hair," you told him, taking a bite of his filet mignon. Bradley settled down into the seat next to you. He wanted more than anything to talk with you, but he didn't know how. Not after what he let you do last time you were here. So he just took a few bites of food and watched you. 

"Your date bailed early? What did you do?" you asked between bites of steak. Bradley watched your eyes flash with mischief. "Does she know what you did to get those free coffees from the barista?"

Bradley chuckled and shook his head. 

"Oh my god, did you insult her after she told the waitress to hold the salad dressing?" you said, biting into your plush, glossy lip. Then your expression clouded a bit. "She didn't say something negative about Noah?"

Bradley scraped the last bite of his food onto his fork and finished eating. "No. Actually I didn't even get to mention Noah. And I have no idea if she ordered a salad. I can't even remember if I had a salad, Princess. I was so distracted all night."

"Why were you distracted?" you asked softly while Bradley took both plates to the sink. 

He reached into the refrigerator and opened a beer, drinking half of it while he decided what he wanted to say to you. You popped a red Skittle followed by two yellow ones into your mouth, and the movement of your jaw took him back to Saturday night. His cock hitting the back of your throat. His hands on your jaw and your face. Those pretty lips wrapped around his balls. 

"Princess," he groaned, and he watched you shove the last few Skittles into your mouth before jumping to your feet.

"Well, I'm going to head out," you said a bit breathlessly. "Oh, and thanks for dinner and for clarifying that these were not sloppy seconds."

Bradley set his beer on the counter and followed you out into his living room, your tote bag swaying along with your ass in your tiny shorts. "Fuck, Princess. Wait. Please?"

"What?" you asked, glancing back over your shoulder. 

Bradley reached out and ran his fingers along your cheek inhaling the scent of wildflowers. "My date bailed, because I was awful. I wasn't paying any attention to her. I can barely even remember what she looked like."

You turned to face him. "What was her name?"

He shook his head. "I can't fucking remember. All I can remember is you. Even when I'm not with you. That's why she hightailed it out of the restaurant."

You pressed your lips together, but you didn't back away when Bradley stepped into your personal space. "You've been thinking about me?" you asked in barely a whisper.

"Nonstop, Princess. And you wanna know about sloppy seconds? Anyone else ever gives me a blowjob, and I'll be thinking about you the entire time."

Your lips parted on a soft gasp. "Oh."

He nodded, stroking his thumb across your lips. "Best I ever had. I already couldn't stop thinking about you, and that just made it a hundred times worse."

"Bradley," you whispered, pressing yourself against him. He didn't move as you eased yourself up onto your toes and kissed him. You nibbled softly on his lips and sighed, then looked up at him like you felt the same way he did. 

It was so innocent, so fucking sweet. Or it would have been if Bradley wasn't wrapping both hands around your hips and licking the seam of your lips. You parted them immediately for him as your arms came up to wrap around his neck. Bradley tasted your tongue and grunted when he felt your fingers running through his hair.

He broke the kiss and let his hands slide down to palm your ass. "You taste like Skittles. I love Skittles."

You smiled up at him. "Sorry, I didn't save you any." Bradley planted his lips on the side of your neck and listened to you moan and dig your fingers in his hair. 

"I don't deserve any, remember?" he asked, rubbing his mustache below your ear. "I'm a peasant. You're the princess."

You made a soft sound that went right to Bradley's cock as you guided his lips back to yours. "Last time you kissed me, you were drunk," you whispered to him before mashing your lips against his. You were pushing him, walking him back toward the couch, and Bradley couldn't help but go where you wanted him to. 

He sat down a little hard against the cushions, his head tipped back to look up at you. "Yeah. I was kind of drunk. And that was a sin, because my memories are a little fuzzy. And you deserve to be remembered with crystal clarity, Princess."

"Do I?" you asked coyly, standing between his spread legs and clasping your hands in front of you. 

Bradley reached out with his right hand and ran his knuckles up and down your thigh. "Listen, Princess. Your lips wrapped around my cock will fuel my fantasies for years to come, but right now I want my mouth involved as much as possible."

You were instantly climbing into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing your mouth to his again. Bradley welcomed you back into his arms like you belonged there. You peppered some kisses to his lips and mustache before you pulled away from him a little bit with a smile. You were irresistible, and he was grinning right back at you. 

"Okay, go ahead," you told him, gripping his hair and tipping his head away from you. Bradley grunted as your little denim shorts rubbed against his pants creating some friction. "Try to kiss me better than you did after you were out drinking the other night. Because I thought it was pretty great, actually."

He let you tug his hair which was making him throb for you. "What do I get if I win?"

You moaned softly. "The satisfaction of a job well done?"

He shook his head. "Not good enough."

You laughed. "A pat on the back?"

"No," he said, stroking your cheek with his fingers and coaxing your lips closer to his. "I want a fifty percent share of all Skittles consumed in my house."

You gasped so theatrically, he laughed out loud. "That's scandalous. Twenty five percent, or I'm leaving," But you were inching closer and closer to him.

"Deal, Princess," he whispered against your lips, and now he found himself trying to outdo any kisses that came before you. It actually wasn't hard. You'd been his best the last time you were here. Now he wanted to be the best for you. He started off slow now, his fingers teasing along your cheeks and all over your neck. He knew his mustache was prickling along your lip, but you seemed to like it as you were grinding against him a little bit now.

Bradley made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure with his lips, always drawing you back to his kisses. The little sounds at the back of your throat were encouraging, as were your fingers which had dipped inside his shirt at the back of his neck.

He sucked gently on your bottom lip now as his hands found their way to your waist. He nibbled softly on your lip before releasing it, and he was so pleased to see he had kissed off all of your lipgloss. Now your lips just looked extra pouty, and your eyes were needy. 

"How am I doing so far?" he teased, kissing along your chin and your jaw, eventually letting his lips settle on the front of your neck. 

"You must really want those Skittles," you gasped, head tipped back as he worked his mouth against your soft skin. He sucked gently on you there, nearly thrusting against you as you rubbed yourself on him. "Oh!"

And then his hands were a little rougher, squeezing your hips and wrapping around the back of your neck. You leaned into him, clearly not afraid of what his body was demanding as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. He felt your hands on his chest and abs. He could feel your warmth against his cock as you rocked your body into his. He could feel your nipples, hard and rubbing his chest through too much fabric. 

"Princess?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours. 

"Yeah, okay," you said, gasping against his lips, kissing him between sentences. "You win. Twenty five percent of the Skittles. They are yours."

He kissed you, laughing against your lips. "That's really nice and all, baby. But I'd rather taste you right now?"

"Me?" you asked softly, putting a few inches between your mouth and his.

"I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?" he asked, stroking his index finger along the zipper of your shorts. He was gauging your reaction to him as you bit your lip and tried to squeeze your thighs together. 

"You want to go down on me?" you whispered, hands gasping along his abs.  

He nodded. "Real fucking bad, Princess."

You licked your swollen lips and whimpered. "Okay, Daddy."

-------------------------

Bradley had been so sweet, his brown eyes like something from your dreams. His lips and his hands were all over you, turning you on and making you so wet. But now he wanted to taste you? Find out if you were sweet?

As soon as you called him Daddy again, he had the front of your shorts open, and you were lying on the couch on your back with his big body over yours. 

A moan escaped your lips as soon as he eased his hand inside the front of your underwear and over your clit, and then his mouth was on yours, devouring you. You were making little noises against his lips as he stroked you just the way you liked to touch yourself. It was like he knew how crazy this would make you. And when his other hand ended up inside your shirt, pulling down your bra and stroking your nipples, you groaned his name. 

"You're soaking wet," he said, rubbing his mustache along your jaw in time with his fingers as they worked their way down toward your opening. He teased you like that until you were begging him for more, your fingers tangling wildly in his hair. 

"Please, please," you gasped, and then Bradley was sitting back a bit, his hard dick on display for you through his pants. He yanked your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor, followed by your lacy, white underwear. 

"Oh, fuck me," he groaned as he looked at you, bare for him from the waist down, except for your socks and sneakers which he left on. 

Then without hesitation, Bradley stroked his hands up the backs of your thighs, spread them wide and brought his mouth down to your pussy. He placed the softest kiss against you there, his mustache making you bite down on your lip in response to the sensation. 

"Bradley," you gasped, feeling your lower back arch off the couch as he ran his tongue from your opening all the way up to your clit in one glorious swipe. 

You should have been embarrassed by the way you were reacting to him. But he just looked up at you with his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before he released you. "You're so sensitive, Princess," he grunted. And then he was running his nose through your wetness and kissing you everywhere. "And you taste so good."

This didn't feel like you expected it to; it felt so much better than that. Bradley's lips and mustache and his fingers and tongue. Everything he did had you gasping, crying out for more. 

"I got you," he promised, spreading your legs wider every time you tried to squeeze them against his head. You were writhing against the couch now, simultaneously trying to pull yourself away from his mouth and also rub your clit against his nose for more. 

"Oh god!" you groaned, loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. But you couldn't stop! Bradley was licking up and down your slit with sure movements and then sucking on your clit until you were practically in tears. Over and over again. Then Bradley was shoving his fingers inside you and kissing your clit before circling it with his thumb.

"You're getting loud, Princess," he whispered, guiding his body over top of yours again. You wrapped your legs around his hips when he kissed you with his wet lips and face. You were licking yourself off his lips when he asked, "You like how you taste? You're so sweet."

You could only whine in agreement as he pushed your shirt up and buried his face against your lace covered breasts. He kissed his way back down your body, and soon you were grinding against his face while he held your thighs. 

"Oh, god, oh!" you gasped when he was licking and sucking again. You closed your eyes tight as your legs started to shake. And then Bradley pumped his fingers into you a little slower and sucked on your clit with a little more pressure, and you felt yourself clenching hard. You rode his fingers with your feet planted on his shoulders, and he looked up at you like he owned you. 

"Daddy!" you cried out, enjoying what was quite obviously the longest and best orgasm of your life. 

"Call me Daddy again," he demanded before sealing his pretty lips around your clit once more and sucking.

"Daddy!" you groaned, pulsing around his fingers. And then everything felt wet. Really wet. And Bradley's face turned to an expression of awe. And his face was wet, too. You sat up and looked down your body to where his fingers were still rammed inside your pussy. But the couch was wet. "What happened?" you asked, but his lips were on yours, and he was pushing you back down again. 

"Princess," he groaned, still moving his fingers gently inside you, and now you were finally coming down fully from the peak of pleasure he had brought to your body. "Christ Almighty, baby. You're the sweetest fucking thing, aren't you?" He kept praising you, his lips all over your face. And when he finally withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, you helped him lick them clean. 

And then he was gaping down at you, stroking his knuckles along your cheek. "What happened?" you asked softly. You didn't think your body would ever recover fully enough for you to speak louder than this, but you didn't care. Everything felt too good. 

"You squirted for me," he replied, those big brown eyes roaming all over your face before he kissed you. 

Oh. You still felt wet. You had made a mess on his couch. You could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to," you whispered, suddenly feeling very shy.

"Was so hot," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "Princess." His lips on the shell of your ear and his hard cock pressing against your hip made you feel a little bolder. You tried to sit up, but he was huge on top of you.

"Do you want me to get you off?" you asked, reaching down toward him. But Bradley took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. 

"No. You've done plenty. You're a Princess, made to be worshipped." You settled back against the couch cushions and let him kiss along your neck until he had his fill.

-----------------------

Bradley helped you get dressed. Then he walked you to your car. Then he kissed you goodnight. And then he paid you for watching Noah which made him feel physically sick. You tried to push the money away, but he insisted. Then he went back inside into the bathroom and came hard after stroking himself three times to the thought of your pussy soaking his face. 

He was a mess. A literal fucking mess now. He sat down on the bathroom floor. He had no idea what to do. But then he laughed out loud when he remembered how his night started. He had been on a date with some random faceless woman earlier, but his night had ended with his own face buried in your pussy. 

This was not a good idea. None of this was a good idea. He needed to figure this the fuck out. 

------------------------

Nice work, Bradley. Amazing effort. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

ao3

series | next chapter

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝…𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞?

You’re running late.

But then again…is there ever a day when you’re not running late?

It’s hard to differentiate whether it’s due to the fact that you left all your pre-reading till the last minute or if your alarm forgot to go off or if it was due to you oversleeping for an additional thirty minutes because your roommate had dragged you out last night for the fourth freshers party of the week.

Either way, you’re running late. Your bag is frantically packed with notebooks and random essentials, your laptop is less than half-charged and your socks are mismatched. It’s not the best start that you had imagined for your first week of lectures but as you glance at digits in the corner of your phone, you figure that you don’t even have the time to complain.

The campus is still relatively new to you, and also fucking huge. Groups of people swarm around like insects, trying to find their way around to their own lecture. Glancing down at the map app currently open on your phone, a frown reaches your brows.

It seems like you’re still so far away from the humanities block which is on the other side of campus.

You scroll down, pausing your steps to look for another route. If only there was….

‘Want a shortcut? Press here.’

“Yes fucking please.” you mutter to yourself, clicking the bold button absentmindedly.

—

The muffled sound of a robotic voice announcing your destination perks up your mood entirely as you reach the lecture doors of 202. You made it with just about five minutes to spare and you’ve never felt prouder, not even during all those times when you’ve forgotten to study for exams but had luckily gotten away with pretty decent grades.

Entering the hall, you find most seats are taken, nearly all the rows are unavailable. Scanning around desperately, you find a seat near the back next to a guy mindlessly scrolling on his phone. Hastily, you walk to your desired seat before the rest of the row fills up, and you find that as soon as you have taken your seat, there’s no spare seats left at all.

Taking a deep breath, your anxiety now sits comfortably in the pit of your stomach.

This is how college was supposed to go.

Prepared, calm and on time. You’re so relaxed right now that you’re not even slightly bothered about the percentage of your laptop when you slide it open in front of you, knowing that you have your notebooks in your bag if needed. You take a quick sip of water before the lecture begins and soon all conversations in the room seem to die away slowly.

Those unlucky enough to have found a seat, have to settle with sitting on the steps of the lecture hall. A silent sigh of relief that you are not a part of that majority runs through your body. God, you forget that literature was so oversubscribed.

A hushed silence takes over the room and a steady grin creeps at the corner of your lips as you wait for the professor to start.

“Good morning all, it is nice to see you all bright and early for the first genetics lecture of the year. I know some of you had to clear up clashes with microbiology this morning which may be the reason why we are so oversubscribed today, but we’ll make do, there’s plenty of room for everyone.”

Remember that eager, excited smile that you just had a few moments ago? Yeah, well it just died and here was the funeral. You blink in confusion as the words of the lecture settles into your brain.

Genetics? Microbiology? What the fuck was this professor talking about?

The lecturer drones on at the front of the hall, her voice echoing. “For those of you who don't know already, I'm professor Dr. Michaleson and I’ll be your genetics lecturer for the remainder of the year.”

Oh no. Oh fuck no. Oh hell no.

You look around, scanning the wide room to already see people begin to type away at their laptops. No one else in the room seems to be as confused as you are right now and it’s concerning. Reaching into your coat pocket, you open up your maps app checking your location.

Shit.

You’ve found yourself in the general medical sciences block, not arts and humanities. Zooming in further you find that the humanities block is direct from the building that you’re in right now.

If there was a moment for you to have a breakdown, it would be right now. All of your panicking and frantic packing that you had gone through this morning has now gone completely to waste because you’re not even in the right fucking lecture hall.

You turn towards the person on your left but notice that they’re rapidly typing away as the lecturer proceeds to run over the future modules for the course. Not wanting to bother her, you decide to glance towards your right, to the guy who was once mindlessly scrolling on his phone who has now replaced it with his very own laptop but…he’s not typing away yet.

So you take your chances.

“Hey.” you whisper, trying to keep your panic out of your voice. You lean over a little so that he can hear you.

The man frowns a little, looking towards you.

“What?” His tone is soft like yours, quiet so as not to disrupt other people but you can’t help but notice the annoyed intonation in his voice.

“What lecture are we in right now?” you subtly prompt, quickly noticing the crease between the eyebrows of the stranger sitting next to you. His nose curves up in distaste as if you’ve just asked him whether he thinks the earth is round or flat.

“Please, just answer my question.” you plead gently, reading his expression.

You know he probably takes you for an idiot right now but you just need confirmation so that,

One: You hadn’t just misheard and this was definitely a genetics lecture

And two: If it was a genetic lecture this officially gives your body the right to go into full panic mode right now.

The guy lets out a light sigh before answering, “We’re in genetics right now.”

“Fuck!”

A few heads in the row in front of your glance back at the sound and automatically your cheeks burn up out of embarrassment.

“Why are you asking?” the man sitting beside you questions.

You hesitate in giving your answer, embarrassed that you had messed up one of the most basic rules of things not to do at university. Now it’s your turn to let out a beaten down sigh.

“I–”

“You’re in the wrong lecture, aren’t you?” the stranger estimates. Clearly based on your mixed expression of disappointment and panic.

You nod silently, rubbing your hands across your face. Internally, you wished that you could go back in time. Back to before you had entered this stupid lecture room, double checking the location or at least had the chance run out before the lecture had started.

“What are you supposed to be in?”

“English Literature.”

The man sitting beside you stifles a laugh and again, a number of heads back to look at the two of you in frustration. He attempts to cover it up with a cough and you notice the way that his cheeks slowly turn to a dusty shade of pink.

“Por dios, what are you doing here?” he whispers. And again you don’t miss the tone of irritation in his voice.

“I–I think I got lost.” you stammer quietly, looking down at your phone. “I’m supposed to be here.” you point at a spot on your phone as you show him. “But I got it messed up.”

“It’s across from this building?”

You nod begrudgingly, before shutting off your phone and laying your head down on the table in surrender.

You stay down for a minute before perking back up. The lecturer is still droning on about god knows what and the man beside you begins to take notes.

Leaning over, you whisper another question.

“How long is this lecture?”

“Two hours.”

Yep, you were screwed.

And it wasn’t like you could get up and leave. Well, you could, but that would mean drawing all the attention from half of the people in the room, disrupting them and causing your entire row to stand up so that you could leave. You think that you’d rather die than be that person.

The man beside you says nothing more, choosing to ignore you and your situation as he types away along with the rest of the people in the hall.

Looks like you have no choice but to buckle yourself in for this ride.

—

Two hours later, you find yourself on level 12 of the world’s hardest game, still without any new literature knowledge but now have a deep insight into what the genetics modules will look like for the next three years as well as having a deep insightful knowledge about prokaryotic and eukaryotic organisms.

That’ll be some useful trivia some day at least.

You sit back watching everyone else pack away. The man beside you glances towards you briefly, he’s packed away too, now waiting for the people in your row to start filing out.

“Thinking about drastically changing your degree to biological sciences?” he asks, a smirk on his face.

You snort as you pack away your laptop, which surprisingly managed to survive the whole lecture.

“I fucking wish.”

“How about next time you check that you’re actually in the right block before stepping into a lecture hall?”

You barely know this man and yet you can feel his judgment, not just now but throughout the whole lecture you’ve felt his continuous side-eye as you died for the 400th time in your game.

“Will do.” you note, hoping to cut this conversation short. “Looks like I’ve got a literature lecture to catch up on.” you mumble to yourself as you begin to walk away, filing out of your row and heading to the doors.

/

“You what? Ended up at the wrong lecture hall?!”

Burying your head onto your arms, you groan aloud as a non-committal response. Your college roommate and new friend, Lyla, laughs out loud which unfortunately attracts eyes from around the cafe.

You groan, this being the second time that your face has burnt up this morning. “Please don’t make my misery any louder ly’ ”

She wipes at the corner of her eyes, adjusting her glasses. “I'm sorry, m’sorry.” She chokes, spluttering her hot chocolate. “But could you go through exactly what it was that you did again?”

You perk up your head on the table, keeping your eyelids shut. A mumble escapes from your lips.

Lyla cups her ears, teasing you unabashedly. “What was that?”

“Iendedupinageneticslecture.”

“What?”

“I ended up in a genetics lecture!”

And if you thought that her first laugh had been loud enough for the tables near you to hear, her second laugh practically caused the entire cafe to turn their eyes on you.

“This is all your fault by the way.” You pick up your cup of hot coffee and as if your day couldn’t get any worse, you’ve managed to burn your tongue and now you wonder whether there’s any point whatsoever in living on this sadistic earth.

Lyla points at herself, “Me? What did I do?!”

If you–” you lower your voice, cautious of multiple eyes staring at your table. “If you didn’t drag me out last night then maybe I wouldn’t have been so sleep deprived that I could have actually gotten to my proper lecture.”

Lyla snorts, waving her hands around. “Oh, please! Didn’t I get you that number off that guy you liked? Matt, was it?”

“Tom.”

“Right, whatever.” she says, picking up her cup and dipping her tongue into the generous amount of whipped cream and marshmallows that cover her hot chocolate. You stare at your own order in distaste, deeply wishing that you had gotten one too.

/

The next two weeks following your god awful mishap, you were fine.

From now on you and Lyla had a pact.

No more nights out.

Only up until the halloween season.

With your reading classes and her technology lectures, the two of you found each other up to your necks in assignments and essays along with being forced to help out with Lyla’s little coding club maintenance.

Thankfully you’ve managed to maintain some sort of routine, attending most – if not all – of your lectures both on time and double checking that you were in the right ones. You’ve made a few friends here or there at social events and finally found a job as a barista at the same cafe where Lyla gets her favorite hot chocolate from – and you must admit that they are pretty great.

All in all, college is going pretty great.

You think.

It’s going well in terms that you’ve managed to dodge every single phone call from your mom ever since you got here. Weekly, you’ve been coming up with good excuses and you don’t think that she’s caught on. Yet.

It was something that you had expected to happen once you made the decision to move away, I mean it was only fair, her only child leaving the bird’s nest, what else is she supposed to do?

You did feel guilty, of course you did. You hate lying to your mom but having her call every five minutes is not the reputation that you want to set up for yourself.

You’ll call her at the end of the week.

You swear on it.

- ‘Sorry, I’m in the library right now mom, I’ll call you back later okay? Love you <3’

Sent: 5:34pm

Setting your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’, you place it next to your laptop, your playlist resuming through your headphones.

Another thing that you were also proud of yourself, was getting in regular study periods in preparation for midterms. Your old self would have been procrastinating right up until the night before the exam but now? You’ve matured. You’ve changed your ways for the better and by getting in some pre-reading of essays and books, you know that you’ll be thanking your future self in the long run if you keep up this mindset.

And this mindset is a great mindset…as long as you don’t get distracted.

/

You lasted ten minutes.

You had barely gotten through the second page before your attention was taken somewhere else and by somewhere else you mean somebody else. And this particular somebody reminds you of a moment that you are trying so hard to forget. Which is impossible to do when he had just so coincidentally pulled up a chair next to you.

It was him. The guy who you sat next to in the one lecture that we don’t talk about for certain implicit reasons.

On recognising his face, you hope that he doesn’t recognise you. He pulls up a chair beside you, not truly noticing you are until he glances up. You can already sense what he’s about to say. Taking off your headphones you go to speak but he suddenly cuts you off.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t mistake the janitor’s closet for the library then.”

“Oh, you’re funny.” you deadpan.

“I try to be.” he quips, the corners of his lips tilting upright.

Now that your body is not in fight or flight mode, you get a chance to take in this stranger. He’s…attractive. Conventionally. Tall. Awkwardly tall. Looks like one of those gym junkies or you guess that he actually is one based on those muscles on him. And those model cheekbones and naturally tanned skin and bushy eyebrows and soft lips–

“Do I have something on my face or are you just eyeballing me?”

“Neither.” you say, a little too quick for your judgment.

“There’s no shame in admitting the latter.” He prompts, a playful tone in his voice.

“You’re a little bit cocky don’t you think?”

This stranger leans back into his chair a little, raising a brow before dismissing your statement.

“I would disagree.”

“Of course you would, you’re a STEM student.”

The stranger huffs, glancing at you up and down. “At least I’m guaranteed a job as soon as I’m out of here.” He remarks, rummaging through his bag. “Good luck in getting out of your student debt with–” he squints over to one of the closed novels by your side. “Whatever book that you have over there.”

“You mean pride and prejudice?”

He simply shrugs, choosing to ignore you as he pulls out a huge textbook and his laptop.

Your eyes glimpse the front cover, reading ‘Biological Sciences.’ Your face turns to distaste at the thought of having to read that through your own free will.

“Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” you ask, trying to maintain a friendly unbiased tone.

“Never have and never will.”

“You’re missing out.”

“On what?” he scoffs, flicking a page of his massive textbook. It hurts your brain to even think about how much that would even cost. “A bunch of rich upper class Englishmen complain about their problems for a whole 300 pages?”

“Firstly,” you note, slightly offended. “That’s not what happens. Secondly, it’s 400 pages but it’s debatable depending on what version you buy. But when you suddenly get a gun cocked to your head with someone asking you to quote the first line from Pride and Prejudice one day, you’ll be regretting this conversation.”

“I highly doubt that’s even a probable situation.”

“There’s always a few anomalies lying around.” You shrug absentmindedly, flicking through your own novel which you had to complete reading for this week.

“Rarely.”

“But often enough to catch you off-guard.”

This…stranger lets out a sigh heavily through his nose, a sign of which you know means ‘please shut the fuck up.’ He ignores you for the nth time, eyes slightly squinting as he scrolls down, closely reading an article.

That’s it. You’ve lost your concentration. He’s ruined your mood and your mindset.

You begin to pack away, huffing as you place your novel in your bag. You’ll have to get started when you get home it seems.

“Don’t let me spoil your 19th century fun.” he murmurs, scrolling further down on the article.

“I’m going somewhere else, so that I won’t be bothered with your stupid microbiology shit.”

The man huffs, barely acknowledging you as you stand. “Good luck finding another free spot because this place is packed.”

“I’m heading home actually.” you quip, zipping up your bag after placing all your materials.

“Make sure that you don’t accidentally end up in someone else’s dorm–”

“Hilarious.”

You walk away before he can poke another joke at you. Once again, mocking you and you barely know his first name.

You kinda hope you never see him again. Partly because he’s an annoying STEM student but mostly because he reminds you of the excruciating pain that you went through by sitting in a genetics lecture for two hours without a single break.

Key word: kinda.

Reblogs are much appreciated!

let me know / send an ask if you would like to be tagged!

#under no circumstances. #miguel o hara x reader #angel writes #migeul o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 2)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

After what you thought was a wonderful night together, Melissa leaves you feeling cold.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for all the love with the first chapter. And a huge thank you to @alexusonfire for being my beta <3

Link to Chapter 1

While a comfort show played in the background, you swiped mindlessly on a dating app. There was a part of you that felt as if you were betraying Melissa by doing so, but then again, she dated and even married without much of a thought about you or your relationship. The women you swiped on all seemed nice enough, but they were no Melissa Schemmenti. 

You were drawn from your phone when the redhead let herself into your home and held up a Tupperware container to you as she walked past you and into your kitchen. Your eyes followed her sweat pant clad hips the entire time she spoke to you, “I brought puttanesca, and I forgot my show is on in fifteen, so we have to postpone the sex for an hour.”

“You didn’t have to come.” Your response was automatic. By no means were you trying to get her to leave, but she shouldn’t feel so beholden to come by when your relationship was so casual. 

Mel paused briefly, glancing over her shoulder with furrowed brows, “Since when did you play all hard to get?”

Rather than respond to her, you turned back to face the television with a roll of your eyes. It was never really worth starting trouble with Melissa. Instead, it is best to just pick and choose your battles. 

When she emerged from the kitchen, she was carrying two bowls that she must have pulled from your cabinets. There was a pang in your chest at seeing Mel be so domestic in your own home. It was a sight you yearned for, yet you knew it was best not to get used to it. 

She passed off a bowl to you with a commanding tone,  “Eat.”

Taking the bowl into your hands, you passed off the remote in return, “What are we watching?” 

“Real Housewives.” Mel asked with her mouth full and her forearm covering her mouth from your view. When she finished chewing, she took the phone from your hand and began flipping through the channels in search of her favorite tv show. 

You rolled your head over to stare at Melissa with an unenthused reaction - a bit overdramatic, but it reflected your overall disinterest in the reality program. 

Mel wouldn’t even give you a glance as she found the right channel. She only held up a hand and sassed you, “I don’t need your shit. Now shhh! It’s starting.”

—

Melissa was on you in an instant when her show was through. She threw her leg over your lap, straddling you with a smirk, “And now I’m ready for ‘ya.”

“Now you’re ready?” You let out a breathy laugh and ran your fingers up her thighs to squeeze her hips. Watching her lips expectantly, you began moving her shirt up slowly. You couldn’t help it as your heartbeat quickened in pace - Melissa was just far too gorgeous. 

Melissa began rocking slowly in your lap and you nearly melted as her manicured hands found your cheeks with a hum, “Mhmm...”

She dove down for your lips without any further hesitation. Her kisses were deep and hungry which was often evidence of her impatience. Mel moved her hands from your face and used them to brace herself on the back of the couch. She would always do this, grinding and bucking against you so you would cave in and touch her. 

Like clockwork, you did as you were silently commanded, knowing she would only maintain control over you for a few minutes longer. You pulled down on her hips, guiding her to grind against you and earning a groan from her. 

The sound was your kryptonite. It was addicting.

You maneuvered swiftly to draw more sounds from her. One arm around her waist, guiding her to grind back and forth, while the other was pushed beneath the waistbands of her sweats and underwear. 

Satisfying her needy desires earned you deeper kisses and she moaned into your mouth as your fingers slipped through her folds, “Oh, Jesus..”

When you found she wasn’t as damp as you liked, you withdrew your hand from her underwear. Parting your kiss, you pushed your fingers past your lips and swirled your tongue around the digits. 

Spit drenched your fingers when you guided them back to her clit, and the newfound wetness caused her to gasp. 

She looked so perfect like this. Forehead pressed to yours. Flyaways of red hair framing her face and dancing in your periphery. Jaw slack with her eyes screwed shut. Soft moans rising from her throat with every shift of your fingers. Her soft breasts threatened to spill from her tank top with every thrust of her hips. Every few moments your name was huffed in the most beautiful, desperate tone. Her hands shifting rapidly between the couch and your shoulders as she sought contact while also attempting to brace herself. 

You cooed to her softly, knowing all she needed now was praise. “Pretty girl… so beautiful aren’t you?” 

She knew the drill. Melissa knew to answer your question promptly if she wanted you to continue playing with her. She let out a strangled hum to avoid taking away too much of her attention from her own orgasm, “Mhmm.”

Your fingers danced gently at the edges of her face, tucking hair behind her ears. You wanted to kiss her cheeks, but you refrained from the gentle intimacy to avoid spooking Melissa.Your next question flowed from your lips with a tone dripping with intense desire, “Are you gonna make yourself cum on my fingers?”

Mel was doing all the work at this point. Her hips ground erratically, hinting she was getting incredibly close to her climax. She could only answer your question with a strangled hum. “Mhmm.”

“What was that, hon?” You drew your hand back an inch, earning a desperate and frustrated gasp from the redhead. 

Her eyes flickered open and you were suddenly face to face with her wild, green hues. Mel was obviously upset with how you were teasing her, but it was laughable with how quickly she folded in the bedroom. Her willpower was all but nonexistent when your hand was down her pants. 

She gasped and bucked her hips upward in search of your hand, “Yes… Oh god, yes please…”

“It almost sounds like Melissa Schemmenti is begging.” Your grin was evil as you slipped your fingers back to where they had been previously. The redhead went crazy in your lap, gasping and moaning as her hips writhed in order to achieve her orgasm. 

It only took her mere seconds to find it, and with a final buck of her hips, her face was buried into her crook of your neck as she rode out her orgasm and choked out, “Fuck you.”

—

Melissa was running her hands up and down your thighs as she went down on you. She would always get so lost in giving you head that she would come up for air with big gasps. And rarely did she ever stop right away after your orgasm, it typically took writhing and begging to pull her from her pussy eating trance.

When you came, your hips lifted into the air with Melissa’s face still attached - a sight to behold. Your final orgasm (or orgasms) came in a final set of three, rolling together in a way that had you sobbing out in search of reprieve. 

When you finally settled, Melissa rested her cheek on your mons and tucked her hands under your sides to better snuggle against you. “Give me a few minutes and then I’ll be ready for another go.” 

She always was so avid about giving head to you - a little fact that made you raise your eyebrows in questioning. After all, it seemed a little fruity for her to enjoy it as much as she did.

You had no complaints at the suggestion as your blissed out mind mulled over the events of the past half hour while your eyes focused on the lazily moving ceiling fan, “Mm... Sounds good to me.”

It was hard to draw your attention away from the red hair draped over your middle. And against your better judgment, you began twirling and untwirling the locks around your fingers. Her hair was silky to the touch and the smell of her rose scented shampoo and conditioner wafted up to you. 

“Wuddya think you’re doin’?” Mel’s tone seemed slightly annoyed, but she made no effort to move away from you or to get you to stop. 

“Oh, relax, tiger.” You teased Melissa, pushing your fingers against her scalp to rub gently. “You aren’t any less tough just ‘cause I’m playin’ with your hair.”

“Hmph.” Melissa begrudgingly turned her attention to the reality show that now graced the tv  She told herself that she would only have to allow for it until she was ready for another round of sex. 

Rarely would you get these soft moments of intimacy from her. Often she would leave or move away to prevent any prolonged contact like this, but something about spending time together before sex must have softened her up. This moment alone gave you the bittersweet feeling that you fit so well together, but you had to remind yourself of the constant heartbreak she caused you.

Episode after episode of miscellaneous reality television played before you checked in again with the redhead to see if you were done for the evening, “Mel?”

When no response came, you sat up at a low angle to look down at the woman who had fallen asleep on top of you. With a gentle hand, you combed red curls from her face to expose her features softened by slumber. Even with a quick glance of her sleeping face, you were pained by your yearning for her... as you knew the odds were not in your favor. 

No one could feel sorry for you. For decades you had inflicted this pain on yourself, letting her back in a moment's notice. And tragically, you worried this pattern was destined to repeat itself as Melissa had a way about her that felt addictive for you. 

So while you knew Melissa spending the night would not be good for your heart, you continued played with her hair until you finally fell asleep.

---

The next morning you woke up feeling incredibly stiff from your night spent on the couch. Worst of all, the redhead that had once been sleeping on your stomach was absent. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked around your home for evidence of Melissa’s presence, but her purse and jacket that once sat on a chair near the front door were now gone. 

As you looked around, you noticed that you were draped in a blanket and the television had been turned off. When you stood and glanced into the kitchen, your eyes caught a glimpse of the dinner dishes in the drying rack. 

You felt your cheek grow warm from the embarrassment. She couldn’t stick around to say goodbye, but she was a decent houseguest and washed the dishes? 

Retrieving your phone from the coffee table, you drop yourself down on the couch as you furiously type out a message to the redhead and hit send. 

Couldn’t say goodbye before you left?

Her reply came a few minutes later, and you could feel her attitude emanating from the screen - We aren’t dating. 

Maybe you should have thought it through more when you replied, but you sent the text anyway - That doesn’t mean I don’t care.

And it was no shock that all you received was radio silence from Melissa. It infuriated you that she couldn’t even send a simple text, a like, or even an emoticon in response. One day turned into a week which turned into a month, and finally there you were three months later with no response. 

You were so over it at this point. It was painful and embarrassing that you thought your night together of dinner, tv, and fucking felt so natural and fun - only for her to leave you high and dry before the sun rose. 

There was no reason to let Melissa Schemmenti make you feel like this again. It was finally time to move on, and you did with a simple notification from a dating app.

Link to Chapter 3

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #toxic relationship

[dnftopia]

hi, i knew this once but forgot the details sadly but maybe you know them? it's this selfie of dream with his bed in the background and maybe George in it (?). Could you please explain it? 😅

I'd love to hear the backstory to this.

Omg this is so exciting i get to ramble about the dnf january 2023 shift 😿🩵💚 I can’t remember the timeline exactly but

on january 20 dream replies to austinshow’s picture with the “bro chill my boyfriend uses on this app” tweet. the same day dnf play it takes two for the first time and obviously theyre flirting the whole time. that night we get the dnf Kissgate snap And people argued over whether it was patches or george for a while 😭 But it was pretty clearly george

after that dnf go to LA and we get the first dnf “cute date” snaps, the ones where they were eating ramen/sushi i think. people notice george is wearing a chain very similar to dream’s old chain and dream has a new chain (#Chaingate)

then we get the Bedgate snap where at first glance it looks like nothing, but then people noticed it looked like someone was in the bed behind dream with the way the duvet was scrunched up. Also it was pointed out that the shirt on the floor behind dream looks like george’s shirt (the white one with the basketball hugging the earth). and dream’s chain is very clearly on display in the selfie

then we get the second “cute date” pictures of dream and george at that bakery and FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER george is the one to caption his photo “cute date” instead of the other person captioning it for him. Also they r both smiling really cute and its the first time george has smiled in the cute date snaps 😞💗

a few days later dteam appear on the botez sisters’ stream, and even though dream is out of frame nearly the whole time, it’s Obvious that george keeps looking at him and smiling and laughing and they were just flirting a bit

and then later we find out that dream wrote paranoid on this same LA trip on the same day as the second cute date snaps + bedgate. So it was just a lot of dnf moments in short succession that fed into each other and all around made it seem like something had changed between them

#dnf #ask #fave

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈

JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!

Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!

Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao

Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻‍♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩

Judd smut in Y/n’s car

Word count; 3,9K

(smut under the cut)

Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window. 

He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door. 

“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.

You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.

The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money. 

He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you. 

“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it. 

Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops. 

(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend) 

His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back. 

Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,” 

He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?” 

You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,” 

Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled. 

You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app. 

Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously. 

“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly. 

He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car. 

You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window. 

It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.

Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her. 

You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?” 

Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.

Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement. 

Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”

“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?” 

Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle. 

The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly. 

‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh. 

You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,” 

Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’  She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression. 

“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw 

“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.

You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck. 

He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.

Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats. 

“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.

Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers. 

Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.

The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.” 

Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis. 

You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house. 

“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.

Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands. 

Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.

He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.

Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head. 

You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth. 

You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him. 

He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him. 

You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed. 

“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further. 

His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered. 

“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him. 

Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything. 

‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on. 

Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand. 

He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.

Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger. 

“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer. 

You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis. 

“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left. 

Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” 

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans. 

He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again. 

The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!” 

“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.

Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers. 

Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest. 

He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.” 

Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands. 

He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees. 

You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out. 

You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking. 

“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. 

On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you. 

“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.

Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back. 

He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you. 

You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you. 

“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.” 

You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.

He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you. 

You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.

When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips. 

He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?” 

You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.

Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him. 

He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved. 

It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move. 

“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides. 

You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.” 

You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him. 

The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.

“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.

His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.

He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation. 

When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing. 

‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function. 

Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored. 

“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.

Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.” 

You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.” 

“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple. 

Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.

God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

#big mouth #judd birch #judd birch x reader #headcannons #big mouth x reader #judd birch smut #smut #Judd is so pretty omg

[russellsppttemplates]

Idk if you’re comfortable writing sth for Ollie? I know he’s a teenager but I just had an idea for a cute little fluff. How about him going for advice to someone on the grid cause he’s seeing this girl and wants to impress her and take her somewhere nice for a date?

Note: he's not underage so I think I feel okay about writing this blurb for him 😅 don't think I'll keep writing for him as this was just a moment thing, but it was fun!

He had just gotten a date with the communications intern he has been chatting up since before the season began. One would think that the hard part was over, but when one door closes, another opens and the one that stood wide open had a massive poster with "where the hell are you taking her then?" in bold letters.

It was his first time in the city and he didn't know many places around so the logical thing was to ask Charles, "hey! Is Carlos sick again?", the monegasque driver said a she spotted the young driver on the Ferrari garage.

"No, I don't think so, he's fine", Ollie offered, "I'm just here to asked you something actually", he said, hands fumbling with eachother.

"Sorry for the ambush - it's great to see you here! What's up?", Charles wondered.

"I need your advice on where to take someone out for dinner here", he gestured to the ground, "It's for tonight and I have no idea where I'm taking her", he mused.

"Here? Let me think", Charles said, running through the spots he remembered, "Oh, last year, me and Alexandra went to this restaurant near the hotel, I can look it up on the Maps app for you", he continued, retrieving his phone from his pocket so he could search for it, "so, dinner date without a restaurant first?", he teased.

"I had to work myself up to ask her on a date and then I actually forgot that I had to have a plan for it", Ollie led, "I was taking it one step at a time and forgot that this step was quite important", he said as they looked at the screen, Ollie typing the name of the restaurant on his phone.

"They also have a cute flower shop at the paddock entrance - if you are a gifting flowers in the first date type of guy -", Charles added as he saw panic on the younger driver's widened eyes, "not everyone does it, but it depends on the tone you want to set".

"What says the 'I've been wanting to take you out on a date for nearly a year and have chosen an away race out of all places to do it?' tone?", Ollie teased himself, "That's a lot of pressure to put on flowers", Charles chuckled alongside him.

"It's all going to be fine, don't worry! Just be yourself!", Charles advised as Ollie thanked him, walking back to the F2 paddock and seeing you working on your laptop, a smile on your lips followed by a little wave. Yeah, it was going to be fine.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

#ollie bearman blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[msxrik]

I'm in my era so catch the 1st and prob the only Dr.masacrik smut on this app.

Curiosity killed the Cat

Fem!reader x Masacrik

warnings: this is obv a little fucked up so just a heads up. Heavy bdsm, dubcon, breeding kink, choking, blood, abuse just a little ill make it as mild as i can, sexual content, mimi isn't mentioned as you are in her place atm the ending is rushed its 3am

Sorry for the mistakes i have to go to sleep man

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You woke up in the same room as always, white walls, a small window, dark floor with a grey rug. But something felt different. You turned your head to catch a glimpse of the door when you saw it crooked open your heart skipped a beat. Then you felt an exhale on your head. You totally forgot you fell asleep on his lap while he was stroking your hair. You looked up gently thinking masacrik might be asleep but there he meets your eyes with a smile on his face. You shivered. Were you scared of him? No he never hit you, just ordered you around the house and you do appreciate him for saving your life. Were you manipulated? Probably yes! But you never thought about it. You shoot him a crooked smile as you try to wipe the blush off your face.

-Ah look who finally woke up- he says stroking your head lovingly.

-sorry i fell asleep i should get up-

He shushed you

-come on i have work to do and you are going with me.

He got up and you followed him to his room. After getting a few things he sat down by his desk patting his thigh. You sat on his lap as he rests his chin on the top of your head

-You see i have to focus so don't you move a muscle you hear me?- his tone changed as a shiver runs up your spine you nod your head. In response you get a pleased hum and a kiss on the top of your head.

You tried to relax there not moving as he asked of you. You knew his mood swings but he got so angry at one point you flinched. He froze in response.

- i-im sorry this won't happen again...

- get out. - he said.

Now, getting his negative and abusive attention is better than receiving none. You thought for a second, deciding to disobey him, you were curious. You turned around facing him cupping his face into your hands. As you gave him a small kiss on his lips. Shutting your eyes you felt so much fear but at the same time that familiar heat in your stomach you got every time he called your name or smiled at you.

There was silence, but he didn't kick you out of the room, he didn't hit you, he just looked at you.

-uh.. im- im really sorry i have no idea what's gotten into me im- ill leave now...-you sighed attempting to get off of his lap. You both were together for three months now and it was getting harder for you to please yourself.

-Stay - he slurred out holding you by your waist.

You looked up at his face as he leaned in to kiss you. It was a deep kiss he bit at your lower lip drawing blood from it as it dribbled down your and his chin. You pulled away gasping for air. The eyes you gave him flipped some kind of switch inside him. He got up with you in his arms. It was easy you were nearly half his size. You heard your heartbeat as he threw you onto the bed, he kissed you deeply once again you felt his hand undoing the collar you had on. Then he pulled off your turtle neck leaving you in just a bra skirt and tights.

You reached your hands out for him as he leaned to you kissing your neck leaving bite marks and bruises all over your body. He pulled at your tights ripping them just enough to have a clear way to your crotch then he sat back on the bed. The room was dimmed you just saw his hungry gaze almost eating up your body.

-touch yourself for me.

-h-huh?-you barely stuttered that out he made you feel fear and embarrassment but it was turning you on more.

- I'm not repeating myself. You think that your room is unsupervised? I see you doing it all the time now don't be shy show me.

You sigh in embarrassment as you reach down your crotch sliding your underwear away rubbing your clit with your free hand, your legs shaking already. You slid one finger inside pushing that spot that made you see stars. Then you added another one and as you were about to reach your climax you made the terrible mistake of closing your legs. You felt his hands on your legs in seconds pushing them open, his hard grasp bruising your soft flesh as you gasped

- m-mnh... Im sorry...- you sighed out as you kept pushing your fingers in and out. Just to once again as you were closer then ever get stopped by him

- wait, i want to feel you cum on my dick.

He said that like it was the most casual thing on earth. You took your hand away and felt something cold touching your crotch you looked down to see a pair of scissors you shivered as he cut your underwear out of the way. He wanted to have you in those cute tights but taking the underwear off and putting them back on was too big of a struggle for him. Then you finally felt the thing you wished for for the past 2 months.

He slammed his hips sliding inside you as you moaned arching your back.

-A-agh! Mngh.. im- im cumming, please can i..?

-mmh not yet..

he was so amused with you and the second he felt your walls spasm on his dick he clicked his tongue as his hand went right to your throat squeezing it

-what did i tell you? -he growled but then his expression changed

-did you just tighten up from having my hand around your neck? Disgusting..

he smiled to himself as you clawed at his hand. When he finally let go of your neck you gasped for air

-f-fuck mnh... Please please move faster i need this i-...

He bucked his hips faster he wasn't that happy with how you were acting but he could handle it at that moment..

-im gonna cum inside you you'll never leave me then right?

-i-i would never leave you either w-way.. mnhh..~

He laughed his voice now breaking

-oh you a-are so pathe-etic..

He finally came inside you as you shook through another orgasm. But this wasn't the end of that night... Oh hell no

After you passed out from the rough treatment he gave you and blood loss from the bites and cuts he made he cleaned you up then tuck you into bed hugging you

-Goodnight Ushka~

//////////////////////////

This man makes me BLUSH

#masacrik #psychonyashki #psychocuties #doctor masacrik #smut #masacriksmut #psychonyashkismut

[another-lost-mc]

Blasphemy

When you pray to him, it's not forgiveness you're asking for.

MICHAEL x gn!Reader 1.8k words | NSFW | Obsession | Sexual Themes Content Warnings: Obsessive thoughts, invasion of privacy, suggestive themes and some sexual content. A/N: Read the sequel here.

It starts when Simeon gives you the lost Ring of Light.

You think it’s a dream at first, the blinding golden-white light that overwhelms your senses. Suddenly a man’s voice, clear as if he was at your side, speaks to you and offers his blessing and good luck. The demon brothers panic later about seeing light from the Celestial Realm spill from your room, and you freeze when you realize the person you spoke to must’ve been Michael himself.

You tell yourself it’s simple curiosity that motivates you to learn more about him. The very mention of Michael’s name brings up so many varied, intense reactions depending on who you talk to. You speak to the angels first. Luke admires him wholeheartedly, but Simeon’s forced smile and carefully guarded answers to the questions you ask make you feel guilty.

It’s more complicated talking to the demons about him. Sometimes, they say his name with cloudy expressions and pursed lips like they just bit into something sour. Other times, they look far-away and try not to smile when they reminisce about events that happened long ago.

Mammon complains to you about Michael’s no-nonsense approach to work and discipline, and Asmodeus tells you some abstract memory about Michael while he paints your nails. He sounds nostalgic when he mentions all the ways Lucifer and Michael are similar, and the ways they’re also completely different.

Lucifer doesn’t talk about Michael very much, but he’ll usually answer your questions so long as they’re vague and not too prying. When he speaks about Michael, he wears the frown of someone that remembers hurting and being hurt by someone he loved, but it was so long ago the pain is a dull throb he can ignore.

No matter what the angels or demons tell you, you can't shake your interest in the archangel that is admired and feared in equal measure. Curiosity turns to fascination, and you feel some ravenous need to learn more. The things you’ve learned about him so far - the awe-inspiring feats, the high expectations he puts on those serving him, the cruel punishments for those who fail him - scare you and captivate you.

You spend more time with Luke who shares his memories of Michael so easily. It’s no wonder Luke enjoys baking so much - he tells you about Michael’s sweet tooth, the things Michael particularly likes to eat and drink the most, and Luke even offers to make some Celestial Realm desserts for you to try. When you eat them, you pretend it brings you closer to him, like you share something in common.

One day when you visit Luke at Purgatory Hall, he casually mentions getting a message from Michael and you nearly choke on your tea. He keeps talking about whatever task he’s been assigned, but your mind is racing. How did you not think of this sooner?

“I forgot my D.D.D. at the House of Lamentation, can I borrow yours?” The lie rolls off your tongue easily and Luke eagerly hands you his device without a second thought. When he runs off to the kitchen to check on lunch, you immediately pull up his chat history with Michael. You don’t have time to read everything properly, so you take as many screenshots of their conversations as you can, and you send them to yourself. When you’re finished, you close the chat app and head to the kitchen to help Luke.

Later that evening, you read and re-read the message history between Luke and Michael. You smile when you read about Luke’s versions of events in the Devildom, often skewed to make the demons look worse than they (usually) are. You’re touched by the way Michael seems to genuinely care for the young angel too. He responds to Luke’s messages with enthusiastic encouragement or gentle reminders to show his demon hosts grace and patience. 

Your eyes widen comically when you come across your name during one of their older conversations, and you feel your cheeks grow warm when you realize they were talking about you.

Luke: They’re so nice! They told me about some human world desserts that sound amazing. I’m going to ask them to teach me one day, if I can get the ingredients.

Michael: They sound like a wonderful friend to you.

Luke: I wish you could meet them!

Michael: Perhaps one day I will.

Those seemingly innocent words shouldn’t have this sort of impact on you. The logical part of your mind knows Michael is probably humoring Luke, grateful that he’s found a friend in the Devildom and happy to see that you’re a positive influence on him. The desperate part of your mind, the one that fixates on those words, reads them almost like a promise. One day you'll be able to see him in person, or perhaps even touch him if you’re brave enough. 

Their conversation lingers in your mind for the next several days, and you can't stop fantasizing about what meeting Michael might be like. The first meetings that you dream about skirt the line of innocent curiosity and unashamed blasphemy. One morning you wake up with your hand between your legs and the name of a faceless angel on your lips when you come. The memory of his voice rings in your ears and you still want more. You’re not sure what it says about you that you don’t feel ashamed at all.

You grow bored of re-reading the same juvenile conversations between Luke and Michael, and you turn your sights to accessing Simeon’s D.D.D. next. Simeon is older than Luke and you know his relationship with Michael is more complicated. You’re not sure if it’ll be as easy to get access to his phone, but fate is on your side.

The next time you visit Purgatory Hall, Simeon comes to see you and Luke in the kitchen. He looks a bit embarrassed and he’s scratching the back of his head while he holds his phone out to you.

“If you’re not busy, do you mind helping me with this?” he asks you a bit sheepishly.

You have to remind yourself not to be too eager when he hands over his device. “Of course! It’s not a problem at all. If you want to finish helping Luke, I can see what the problem is.”

You leave the two angels in the kitchen and retreat to the living room. The problem is obvious - the screen lighting is so dim it’s hard to read, and somehow Simeon changed the default language to some sort of demonic script neither of you understand. They’re both easy things to fix, and that leaves you with a few spare minutes to check his message history.

As you suspected, his conversations with Michael are more mature. They’re less focused on the daily sights that Luke is amazed by, focusing instead on Devildom life and politics. Michael is curious about Diavolo and his fallen brothers most of all. He asks pointed questions and makes subtle comments that seem purposeful if you read between the lines.

One of the more recent conversations he and Simeon had seems serious. You had no idea that Simeon stole the ring he gave you. It’s always difficult to read tone through words alone, but even you can decipher the undercurrent of disappointment and anger in Michael’s messages.

You understand now, with more clarity than ever, that Michael is intelligent, cunning, and should not be crossed. This realization should frighten you and put a quick end to your silly little crush. However, the temptation of forbidden fruit is too much for you to resist, and this knowledge fuels your fascination instead.

When you’re alone in bed at night, you give up all pretenses and surrender to lustful urges. Your thoughts of the mysterious archangel are steeped in lust. You remember the rumbling sound of his voice in your mind, and you can still feel the warmth of the Celestial Realm’s light. If he were to put his hands on you, would he feel that warm too?

It’s so easy to give into the fantasy that it’s his hands moving between your thighs while you touch yourself. You imagine returning to the Celestial Realm and finally meeting him in-person. You picture him towering over you, the embodiment of grace and power and absolute authority. You wonder what you might have to say or do to tempt him.

Thoughts of him - dark, depraved, delightfully sinful thoughts - are enough to push you over the edge while you stroke yourself beneath your sheets. You come once, then again not long after, riding the high of sin and corruption. You try to stop the whimpers and moans that threaten to spill from your lips. Breathy whispers that sound suspiciously like his name break the silence of your room, hushed secrets for your ears alone.

You’re still panting lightly, mind foggy from the pleasurable daze of your last orgasm, when your D.D.D. vibrates on the nightstand next to your bed. It’s an automatic response when you reach for it - with your clean hand, the one that isn’t saturated by the scent of your arousal - and mumble a quiet greeting when you answer. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the demon brothers got himself locked out of the house after partying all night.

“Did you think I would ignore your filthy prayers forever?” the smooth voice on the other line asks you.

Michael. You recognize who it is instantly and sit up in bed.

“Wait, how did you—?” you ask nervously, because how the hell did he get your number?

“You’re not the only one Luke trusts with his belongings,” Michael says knowingly, with a hint of amusement.

Oh no. Has he been watching you this whole time, waiting for your most vulnerable moment to surprise you like this? What does he know? What has he seen, or heard?

You’re completely unprepared for this conversation because he's rendered you speechless. Your mouth opens and closes uselessly while you try to think of something to say. What can you say? You’re excited and embarrassed, and your body warms up suddenly, like it’s on fire. 

He chuckles quietly, like he predicted this reaction from you. Your silence speaks volumes, and you realize you don’t need to say a word for him to understand you perfectly.

“Humans are such fascinating creatures,” Michael’s voice drawls, low and intimate in your ear.

You whimper and try to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise, but it's too late. He chuckles again and he sounds far too pleased with himself. "You were intriguing before, but not many are able to surprise me the way that you have. Perhaps you deserve a reward for your efforts.”

You can’t help but shudder from the lust simmering deep within your belly. Is he trying to sound seductive on purpose? You don’t know and it’s impossible to tell.

It seems like he can read your thoughts because he hums approvingly. “Yes, I think a proper meeting is in order, don’t you agree?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, and before you can attempt to speak again, the line goes dead.

#series: divine revelations #obey me michael #obey me michael x reader #michael x reader #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me michael smut #obey me smut #omswd smut #obey me michael x mc #michael x mc #obey me michael x you #michael x you #obey me fanfic #x reader #gn!reader

[hearts-4-vicky]

ugh this girl shes so cute like… im actually so down BAD its not even funny

Hi my loves🫶🏼 this was supposed to be longer n come quicker but i forgot to save my draft n i was so fucking done UGHHHH.. I just wanted to put something out for you guys as a thank you for all the support my last post got❤️❤️❤️ I never thought id be postin on here but 😛

anyway, tall! bodyguard! fem reader x wonyoung has been taking over my mind lately yall dont even understand 😭🙏 (this isnt proofread cuz im so done, so sorry my loves if theres something wrong😔)

lets say ur a bit older than Yujin (like by a couple months) n ur first official job as a bodyguard is to make sure Ive makes it to a pop up event safely😝 Starship hired so many of u guys because sasaengs have been appearing more frequently than before. So here comes you and like nearly 3 dozen more guards though you stand out due to how tall u r😍😍😍(like taller than 6’4 cuz babygirl wony is already tall asf😔🙏) n your build (muscular women r so fine UGHHHH)

You and the rest of the squad were walking to the girls big ass dressing room, though you felt many eyes on you. Its something you’re used to, always being the tallest in the room (cant relate😭) Arriving at the dressing room door gets you a bit nervous since you know how big ive is as a group and how stunning they are😍😍😍 Once you guys were given the green light to enter, you need to lean down to fit through the door. seeing this, one of your colleagues snickers, making you roll your eyes.

Ive’s manager introduces you and the rest of your crew to the members, short n sweet. As their manager was just giving a brief run down abt whats gonna happen once you guys arrive, Wonyoung notices you. You were much taller than her and stronger too from what she can see😍 baby girl would be so shocked since most girls shes met have never been taller than her🥺 She was so focused on you that she didnt notice how one of her members eyes were also glued to you😛

ur bitch ass was zoning the fuck out but still kinda listening to the manager but you noticed how drop dead gorgeous the members were (same) though you were always drawn to the tallest member. Her beauty had you practically fawning over her that you didnt even notice the rest of the squad (ayeee pull up wit da gang😝😝😝😝 im so sorry) left to go to the vans you all arrived in😭 Flustered at this, you jog to the door to catch up, hitting your head on the doorframe in the process 🥺🥺🥺 You hear giggles after, but failing to notice how Wonyoung’s eyes were full with concern. Whimpering at the slight sting, you hold your head while still trying to catch up with the rest.🥺🥺🥺

Wonyoung watches as you disappear into the distance, pouting as she hears her members talk about how cute you were🙏 she starts paying attention after hearing yujin ask if they was a chance you were single😭 “Maybe, but not after im done talking with her..” Gaeul says proudly, though its short lived as Wonyoung hears Rei respond “Unnie, she’d have to go her her knees to kiss yo-“YAH!” The room fills with laughter as the eldest sulks in her spot, mumbling how unfair life is. Wonyoung’s mind goes back to you, not wanting to hear her members talk about how they want to get to know you more😜

timeskip to the event cuz im SICK AND TIRED OF THIS APP.

You and the other bodyguards line up behind each side of the rope safety barriers (is that what its called…) You were near entrance of the building and could already seen waves of people try to get a glimpse of the idols that were soon to arrive

As the van pulls up you can hear the crowd getting louder by the second. They only get louder as the girls start to come out, first with Yujin, then Gaeul, Rei, Wonyoung, Liz, and lastly Leeseo. Camera flashes and screams fill the air as the girls walk to the entrance of the building. They do their best to get there in a short amount of time while also interacting with fans

It was going smoothly, with the three eldest already at the door, waiting for the other members. Wonyoung was just a couple steps away from them before a man grips her wrist and pulls her closer to him. She tries to fight back but he is much stronger, tightening his already harsh grip. You act quickly, making the man let go and shoving him as hard as you can. He has a pissed off look on his face but it soon turns to fear as he sees you towering over him. The man nearly shits his pants after you bend your knees to be at eye level with him, hearing you call him the harshest words that come to mind.

After that, you let another bodyguard deal with the man as you turn your body to face the shaking girl. (babygirl was a bit scared cuz u seemed so pissed🥺🥺🥺) Your eyes soften at her state, shes frozen in her spot with widen eyes. Wonyoung focuses on you as you lean down to quietly talk to her. Her eyes are pretty is the first thing that comes to Wonyoung’s mind. She gazes upon your features for what feels like years, her admiration soon turning into attraction for you as she holds her now red wrist. You notice this, cursing the man in your head as you take a closer look at her wrist. holy fuck that shit is red, you meet her eyes once more, taking note on how hers seem to shine in the sunlight. “Are you feeling alright, Miss Jang?” you say in a sweet, soft tone. Wonyoung feels her heart start to race at how soft you are with her, a big contrast to how you acted to the man (duh)

“Oh-Yes! I’m okay, just a bit shaken up..” Wonyoung didnt respond right away since your warm aura made her start to relax. You nod, “Do you want me to escort you to the door?” She starts to nod, but is interrupted by her members rushing to her side asking her if shes okay. You step back, giving them their time but also waiting for her answer. After Wonyoung reassures them that shes fine she turn to you, nodding to your question from before. You failed to notice how her cheeks flushed a light pink as you walked behind her to the door🥺🥺🥺

time skip cuz its literally 1:30 am rn….

You didnt just walk her to the door but instead everywhere. You would only leave her side if she needed to take photos or use the restroom (though you were right outside the door just in case) You were following her around like a velcro puppy (clingy dog) 🥺🥺 Wonyoung thought you were so cuteee😭 she thought you were like a newfoundland puppy cuz ur so big UGH🥺 She watched as your eyes practically sparkled whenever you say something you liked or if someone brought up a topic you were interested in❤️❤️❤️ Babygirl was falling for you so hard rn

As the event was coming to an end, she wanted to go to the restroom before they left (it was an excuse to get you alone with her🫶🏼) She stopped right in front of the ladies door, making you confused. Wonyoung turns to you, leans toward you while slipping a piece of paper in your hand. She ran away shortly after to go to the rest of her members. It all happened so fast you were slow to comprehend what just happened. Reliving the moment for a few seconds you realizing she had kissed you on the cheek.

You place your empty hand over the cheek, now adored with a lipstick mark, as you smile like a dumbass😭 you hear your name being called to leave as well but before going over there, you read the note.

“Yn, I just wanted to thank you for making me feel safe and for getting to know me. I hope we meet again, as friends or maybe more?

XXX-XXX-XXXX

-Wonyoung <3”

You nearly fainted reading that last part.

OH MY GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG💀

guys if u ever write on this app MAKE SURE YOU SAVE PLEASE…. (my asks r open if u want this to be continued or if u wanna request something❤️)

kk love you guys🫶🏼 be safe, and have a good day❤️

#wonyoung date me #ive wonyoung #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #stan ive #ive x reader #izone #I MISS IZONE #izone x reader #wlw #fluff #my bbygirl #vicky thoughts

[808airsoftbros]

Irresistable Temptations (Miyeon/Sana) (S) (BXG)

Y/N’s POV

What was supposed to be a peaceful sleep after a long night of working at my job was interrupted when my phone kept ringing from a wave of notifications.

I need to put that damn thing on sleep mode or else Imma fucking lose it...

Rubbing my eyes, I grabbed my phone and switched it on to see the notifications board to see over five missed calls from Miyeon and Sana.

“What do they want now?” I asked myself.

Using Face ID to unlock my phone, I go into the messaging apps and text in the group chat to ask why on Earth did they call me so early?

“Y/N, you want to go the beach with us?”

“Come on, I’ll be fun~😉“

“Ugh fine what time?”

“Sana and I are driving to your house rn will be there in about five”

Good fucking grief couldn’t they have informed me earlier? Now I have five fucking minutes to get myself dressed and packed.

Sprinting up from my bed, I used mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth as all that mattered was having fresh breath in the morning, and changing into my swimming trunks.

I put on a comfortable and nice T-shirt, I packed up some sunscreen, water, snacks, and of course a change of clothes.

Hearing my phone ringing, I looked at the screen, and Miyeon texted that she just pulled up at the front of my house.

Grabbing my bag, I checked last minute to ensure I didn’t forget anything, and I ran outside through the front door.

On the driveway in front of my porch was Miyeon’s car, she tells me to hurry up and get inside, and I hop inside the back seat.

“Good morning, Y/N~!” Sana greeted and I sighed.

“You two couldn’t have told me earlier that will be going to the beach today?” I asked and she pouted.

“Sorry, Y/N, we were supposed to tell you yesterday but we forgot and to be fair, you kind of overslept,” Miyeon replied.

Starting up the engine, she takes off the parking brake, we were on our way to the beach.

Looking at the time, it was nearly six in the morning, and the sun hasn’t exactly risen just yet.

The drive was about fifteen minutes long, when we arrived at the beach parking lot it was as empty as a ghost town as everyone is still asleep at this hour.

Parking at the closest stall possible, we get out of the car, grab our stuff from the trunk, and walked to a spot on the sand.

We placed the beach towel, set up the umbrella, and chairs, and put our bags on the towel.

I take off my shirt revealing my toned abs, and I can’t help but be proud of myself as I’ve been deadlifting for a couple of years.

However, I was slightly flustered and turned on as the girls removed their tank tops and shorts revealing their swimsuits, and it's clear they take pride in their bodies as their idols.

Shrugging it off, I put on some sunscreen on my body starting with my arms and legs as the girls do the same.

But I can’t lie that I did catch some glances of their bodies as their bikini tops don’t exactly cover up their breasts that much.

“Need some help, Y/N?” Sana offered and I nodded.

Squirting some sunscreen gel onto her hands, she spreads it all over my back and gives me a little massage and it felt nice and relaxing.

Suddenly, I felt something grabbing my crotch and I opened my eyes to see Sana’s hand and I turned around to see her smirking at me.

“No. No. No. Bad Sana.” I said as I take her hand away from my pride and she pouted.

“Come on, Sanake you’re going to make the baby nervous~,” Miyeon said as she cracked open a can of juice.

After that, we all watched the sun rising from the horizon slowly turning night into dawn but there were some unexpected complications.

“Hey there, sweethearts, what you two doing here this early~?” I see a couple of shitbags saying.

“Sorry, not interesting,” Miyeon brushed them off.

“Come on, we can have some fun~,” One of the clowns persisted.

Getting up from the towel, I hastily approached them and didn’t hesitate to punch that idiot’s nose so hard that he fell over.

“Who the hell do you think you clowns are? We were just enjoying the sunrise until you two dickheads ruined it.” I angrily said.

“Asshole, how dare you?!” The other clown asked as he tried to punch me but I parry and grabbed his arm.

“Last chance to walk away, bud...” I threatened.

“Or else what?” He sarcastically asked and I twisted his arm.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!! YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!!!” He cried in pain.

“Maybe you should’ve thought twice before sexually harassing these two girls, huh, dumbass?” I sarcastically asked.

With the two dickfaces having enough pain being inflicted on them, he picks his friend up, runs away, and I sighed in relief.

“T-Thank you, Y/N, those two were probably saesang fans,” Sana nervously said.

“No worries, I’d never let those creeps lay their dirty hands on any of you,” I replied and she blushed.

Enjoying the rest of the sunset, despite it being ruined by those two saesangs, we chilled as there was nobody here but us.

However, the girls asked if I could take some pictures for them and of course, I obliged but looking through the camera I can’t help but get even more flustered and I started to get turned on a little.

I took a few pictures of them together and behind as the bottom bikini piece reveals their ass cheeks causing my thing down there to act up.

“Fucking hell, come on, this is not a good time...” I said to my horny ass.

“Are you okay over there, Y/N? You look nervous and your face is so red. Did you put sunscreen on your face?” Sana asked and I gulped.

“Uhm...” I replied as I touched my face but didn’t feel any sunburns.

The two girls looked at each other and they smirked as they knew what was going on.

“Looks like our baby, needs some help down there~,” Miyeon pointed at my bulge and I blushed.

“Ah, crap...” I said to myself.

Miyeon and Sana then pushed me onto the towel before pinning me down and I didn’t do anything to resist as my brain was having an aneurysm.

Miyeon latches her lips onto mine while Sana was rubbing my trunks making my dick go even longer and harder.

“S-Shouldn’t we do this somewhere more private?” I worriedly asked.

“Don’t worry, honey, nobody else is here and it’s only a quickie so will be done way before anyone gets here~,” Miyeon assured before taking off her bikini top revealing her medium-sized mounds.

Without any hesitation, I sucked her right tit as I massaged her left book causing her loudly moan.

“Mmmm~. You love my tits don’t you baby boy~?” She asked before continuing to moan.

After Sana rubbed my trunks and my dick going hard as it could, she pulls down my trunks revealing my ten-inch rod making her mouth drool.

Instantly, she takes my length into her mouth and I felt her warmth as her tongue and lips were around my dick it felt amazing being blown by one of the hottest Kpop Idols in the industry.

Miyeon gets off of me, straddles on top of me, moves her bikini piece aside revealing her cleanly shaved womanhood, and slowly inserts it inside making her moan like crazy.

Feeling her walls tightly grip my cock was one of the best feelings ever to fuck an Idol as it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Ughhhh~. Why do you have to be so big, baby~?” She moaned as she rides me.

“Does he feel good, Miyeon?” Sana whispered and she viciously nodded.

“Ah, I’m so close, I’m going to cum~,” She warned before squirting all over my dick and she gets off of me.

“My turn now~,” Sana said as she straddles on top of me and takes off her whole swimsuit revealing her nude body resembling a Goddess.

Slamming her pussy onto my cock without any warning at all, I bit my lip as a wave of ecstasy crashed into my mind.

Sana rides rougher than Miyeon did as she bounced up and down while leaning forward for me to play and suck her mounds.

It didn’t take long until she finally came but I still haven’t cum yet but the two Goddesses were going to take care of that.

Sana gets off of me before going down to dick and they opened their mouths while jerking me off waiting for me to cum.

After a few more pumps, I shot a wave of strings of my cum into their mouths and all over their face making me lose my breath.

“Mmmm~. You taste so good, baby, thank you for the meal~,” Sana said as she licked the cum from her lips.

“We can do this whenever you like baby, and consider us as your girlfriends since we’ve been waiting for this chance for a long time~,” Miyeon whispered into my ear sending chills down my spine.

“But if we catch you flirting with another girl, we will make you regret it~. Understand, baby~?” Sana asked and I gulped.

“Y-Yes, Noona...” I nervously answered and she smiled.

“Hehe, now come on, baby, let’s get dressed up before everyone arrives and sees us naked, we don’t want that leaking on Dispatch do we?” Miyeon mentioned and we nodded.

Putting on their swimsuits, I slide my trunks back on just in time before the rest of the people come to join us at the beach.

When a few hours pass by, we decided to pack things up as we all began to starve and want to eat somewhere.

But just as I was going to enter the men’s bathroom, the two girls pulled me into the family bathroom and we changed together.

After we finished getting on our normal clothes, the girls put on black surgical masks to hide their identities, and we put our things inside the trunk before going into her car.

“Now, where shall we eat~?” Miyeon asked.

“How about pizza?” Sana proposed.

“Sure, pizza sounds good right about now,” I agreed and she nodded.

“Alright, pizza it shall be!” Miyeon confirmed as she opened the dominos app to order the pizza.

Author: Hello everyone, hoped you enjoyed that oneshot smut of Miyeon and Sana as this was another idea of mine. Also please do consider joining my discord server as I’m looking for new members and friends 🙂

Discord link: https://discord.io/808AirsoftBros

#kpop #kpop gg #kpop smut #gidle #gidle miyeon #cho miyeon #sana #miyeon #sana minatozaki #twice #twice sana #gidle smut #twice smut #kpop idol #beach #temptation

[headphonegrl]

There’s a folder in Jude’s phone dedicated to you. It's a day shy of your first anniversary when you find out about it, stumbling upon it when he asks you to look for a screenshot of the recipe he’s using to bake biscuits. The exact one your grandma sent him, one of your favorite foods of all time since you were learning to walk and speaking gibberish in the hopes of forming a sentence.

Its title is a plain red heart, sitting above the number three hundred and forty-eight. You stare at it for a moment to make sure it’s right, you swipe out of the app and click back onto it as if to make sure it won’t disappear suddenly. Though it’s still there, the number and symbol staring back at you. There’s a funny lurch in your stomach when you tap the screen with the pad of your thumb, clicking on a random photo when they all show up in neat little rows of three.

There’s one of an arcade machine. The big display screen a cartoony shade of blue with cheesy racing cars and checkered flag graphics, with two grainy photos in the middle. One of Jude sticking his tongue out, his eyes squeezed completely shut. The other of you smiling cutely with all your teeth showing, Jude’s hand appearing from off-screen to give you bunny ears with his fingers. It was your fourth official date and you both spent it collecting as many arcade tickets as possible, only to just end up with glittery bouncy balls and pencils when you traded them all in.

Another one is of you standing by the sink in his bathroom, your hair clipped away from your face. There’s foamy face wash all over your cheeks and on the tops of your fingers, you hold your hands out to display them to the camera. You had promised to spend the night at his place for the very first time, and getting ready for bed had already taken nearly an hour due to all the talking. Jude sat on the edge of the bath wearing one of your fuffy toweling headbands, watching you endearingly as he fiddled with the lid of your moisturizer

One sticks out like a sore thumb, a screenshot from your childhood Instagram account that makes your toes curl with cringe. A heavily filtered selfie of you pouting with a caption that’s a variation of unrelated emojis. After a night out drinking overpriced cocktails, you both ended up sitting in bed scrolling through embarrassing photos. Looking back it might have been the extra tequila shot, but Jude found it so funny he struggled to gasp for air. He set it as his home screen as a joke and forgot to change it back for almost a month.

Further down there’s one from when you both went on holiday. A photo of you sitting on a wooden dining chair, your elbow leaning against the table with your cheek squished against the palm of your hand. You’re wearing the strappy sundress you bought earlier that week in a little boutique owned by an enthusiastic Italian lady. At dinner the strap keeps falling off your shoulder, and when no one is looking Jude plants a kiss exactly where it should sit. 

“Darl, have you found it?” Jude speaks up from the kitchen. Shortening the pet name ‘darling’ into just one syllable, as if the other one will ruin the flow of his sentence. Looking up you’re greeted by him standing next to the mixer, the flour down his front making the text on his shirt unintelligible.

“Yeah.” You click the arrow on the top left to take you back. Scrolling past some selfies and a bunch of pictures of the same sunset, until you find the recipe sitting next to a funny photo of his brother. When you get up to rest it against the shiny countertop so he can read it, your heart feels a little fuller. “Here you go.”

#cute idea #idk abt the result #football imagines #my writing #footballer x reader #footballer fluff #footballer x you #footballer imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic

[mynameismckenziemae]

Unbroken

Part 8

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You

Summary: You fall for Bradley more and more with every day that passes. Someone from your past shows up.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, p in v, brief oral (m receiving), fooling around while driving (again), asshole ex-boyfriend, a sprinkle of violence, fluff, etc.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Days turn into weeks and the weeks pass quickly. Soon the days get shorter as summer fades to fall. Your feelings for Bradley keep growing stronger with every moment spent together; which isn’t nearly as much as you’d like with your packed schedule and Bradley’s early mornings.

You’ve only been able to spend the night together once since the night of the rodeo with you being on-call and Bradley on the carrier training, so to say you’re excited for the long Thanksgiving weekend off is an understatement.

Charlie: You and Bradley want to go to Buck Wild tonight with us? There’s a band.

Emma: I suppose. You do realize it’s going to be a high school reunion, right? Everybody’s home for Thanksgiving and everybody goes out the night before. 🙄

Charlie: Perfect time to show off your hot boyfriend 😉

Emma: Oh. That’s true 😏 What time?

Charlie: 7ish.

Emma: Perfect. Just a heads up-I’m blaming you if I’m hungover tomorrow.

Charlie: That’s fine. Ruth loves me, you know it’ll somehow be Jake’s fault though, right?

Emma: Exactly 🙂

Charlie: Being the only child wasn’t always so bad.

You laugh and get back to work.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hey sweetheart, sorry I’m late,” Bradley says, giving you a quick kiss before opening the door to the Bronco for you. “The last hop went longer than expected.”

“It’s okay, I was none too early, I just finished getting ready a few minutes ago,” you reply, pausing as you buckle in. “You know, we could just take my truck,” you smirk, unable to resist teasing him.

He scoffs, taking your seatbelt to finish buckling you in. “Nope. The Bronco is just fine. I still don’t get what you have against her.”

“It’s a Ford, Bradley,” you reply with disgust. “Back in the day, driving a Ford was a dealbreaker for me. You’re lucky I’ve gotten lenient in my old age.”

“I am pretty lucky,” he chuckles as he reaches for your hand to place a kiss on the back.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The place is packed as expected but Jake and Charlie snagged a table in the corner.

“How’d you manage to get a table?” You ask over the noise once you make your way over, drinks waiting.

“Willie gave us a reserved one when I told him you were coming,” Jake responds with an eye roll as he hands you both a beer.

You catch Willie’s eye behind the bar and blow him a kiss, laughing when he catches it before placing it on his cheek.

“Must be terrible not being anyone’s favorite,” you tease, jabbing Jake with your elbow.

“Whatever,” he huffs. “I’m Charlie’s favorite,” he says as he puts his arms around her.

“Ehhhh…I don’t know about that. You were until your socks missed the hamper-hey! I’m kidding!” Charlie laughs when he tickles her sides.

“Drinking tonight?” You ask when you count four whiskey shots on the table.

“Yeah, the last pregnancy test was negative but I figured it would be since Jake was on the carrier this month when I was the most fertile, according to the app at least,” she replies as she pushes a shot glass over to you then Bradley. “I’m not worried though, it hasn’t even been 2 months. We’re also having a lot of fun trying.”

“Gross,” you blanch before clinking your glasses together. “Cheers.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Charlie tells Bradley when he sets his glass down, shuddering at that burn of the whiskey.

“Hope so,” he laughs.

“Almost forgot,” Jake says, producing a cowboy hat from the chair beside him and handing it to Bradley. “Gotta have one of these if you’re gonna live in Texas.”

“Thanks,” Bradley smiles, putting it on and turning to you. “What do ya think?”

“You look good,” you reply before leaning in. “Might steal it later.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks as heat flashes in his eyes.

You bite your lip as you nod. You both have been so desperate for one another that you haven’t tried many positions yet, always so eager to get him inside you. But with Bradley taking the lead you were getting more comfortable and confident.

Taking him for a ride in nothing but his new hat sounds like a great idea.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Just as you’d expected, it’s like a reunion in the packed bar. Thankfully, you’re able to avoid a lot of the small talk when the music starts

Soon you’re feeling good; drinks are flowing and the band is playing songs everyone knows.

“I’m stealing Emma to pee!” Charlie yells to Bradley as she grabs your hand.

“Girls can’t pee alone,” you explain when he gives you both a puzzled look.

He looks to Jake who’s just as confused as he is but they just shrug before following you off the dance floor to head back to the table.

“Oh my gosh, Emma! Hi!”

“Hey Britt,” you say, turning around with a fake smile. “Go agreed, I’ll be there in a minute,” you tell a dancing Charlie.

You nod as the old frenemy prattles on, not letting you get a word in edgewise before she leaves you to find someone more interesting to talk to.

The men’s room door swings opens as you walk past and you bump into the person coming out

“Oops, sorr-“

“Hey Em,” the man interrupts and your blood runs at his voice.

“Chet,” you nod curtly as you move around him but he grabs your arm.

“Too good to say hi?” He says, pulling you close. Close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath.

He’s drunk, and he’s always been mean when he’s drunk.

“Yeah, Chet. I am. I’ve always been too good for you,” you spit, trying to pull your arm free.

But he’s stronger and he pushes you against the wall before crowding you against it.

“That’s rich,” he chuckles darkly, “weren’t good enough to keep our baby alive.”

Your eyes close as the weight of his words sink in. While it hurts, it doesn’t crush you like it would’ve in the past.

You’re healing.

Before you can respond, he’s on the ground, knocked out cold.

“Ow,” Charlie mutters with a grimace, shaking out the hand she just clocked Chet with.

“Holy shit, Char,” you gape at her.

“I’m sorry-he was in your face, and then he said that about you not-about the baby,” she stutters. “I just saw red. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Don’t be sorry, he deserved it,” you say, holding your arm out for her to take while she steps over his snoring body. “Let’s go before he wakes up.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Tabs paid?” You ask when you reach the table.

Jake nods.

“Okay good. ‘Cause we have to go. Like right now,” Charlie says, turning for the door.

“Everything okay?” Bradley asks as he follows them out.

“Uh…,” you stall until you get outside in the fresh air, feeling like you can finally breathe. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

“What happened in there? You look like you saw a ghost,” Jake asks, leaning against the bumper of his truck.

“I ran into a girl I knew from high school on the way and told Charlie to go ahead while we talked for a minute. I was headed to the bathroom and ran into Chet as he was coming out,” you sigh. “He’s drunk and he started saying stupid shit-“

“It was awful. He said she wasn’t good enough to keep the baby alive,” Charlie says quietly, tears heavy in her voice.

“Oh Em,” Bradley says, wrapping you in his arms.

“He’s fucking dead,” Jake growls, rising to head back in, but you stop him.

“I’m okay. I promise. I know it’s not my fault. He’s drunk and gets off on hurting me,” you say. “He’s gonna be the one hurting tomorrow though.”

“I dunno, I might too,” Charlie laughs, looking down at her hand. “It’s not broken but it’s gonna hurt for a few days.”

Jake rushes to her side to check her hand out. “What the fuck happened?”

“I came out of the bathroom and heard the horrible things he was saying…the next thing I knew he was on the ground,” Charlie explains, as if she can’t believe it either. “I’ve never punched anyone before. I must’ve gotten got lucky and hit him in just the right spot in the jaw.”

“Well, you did something right. He was out cold,” you say, leaving Bradley’s arms to hug her. “Thank you.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Em. I love you,” she murmurs.

“I love you too,” you reply with a sniffle.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“I’m sorry for tonight,” Bradley says on the way home after saying goodnight.

“Why are you sorry? It wasn’t your fault,” you reply.

“I know, I just feel bad that you had to see him and that he’s still trying to hurt you. I should’ve gone with you,” he sighs as he puts his hand on your knee.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you say. “If you would’ve hit him, he would’ve pressed charges and you’d be in trouble. There’s no chance in hell he’s going to tell anyone he got knocked out by a woman; if he even remembers it in the morning,” you laugh. “I’m not gonna lie; what he said hurt. But it didn’t suffocate me like it would have in the past.”

You can tell he’s still beating himself up when he nods, so you reach over to pluck his hat off and place it on your head.

His lip quirks and his hand on your knee slides up your thigh. “Still wanna give me a ride tonight?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, placing your hand over his to guide him between your legs. Your head drops back with a sigh when he rubs over the seam of your jeans. “Been thinking about it all night.”

“Me too,” he admits. “Hell, I’ve been thinking about it since the last time we were there and you rode the bull.”

“When you hid to the bathroom ‘cause you got hard?” You tease breathily.

He nods, fingers still rubbing you through your pants. “You looked so good up there. Then the way you kissed me outside after? Fuck, I couldn’t think straight until I back to the hotel and finally jerked off in the shower.”

“God,” you sigh as you picture him. “That’s so hot.”

By the time he pulls into your driveway, you’re soaked.

Inside your bedroom, you help him out of his clothes first, nipping and sucking at the flesh you expose.

“W-wait,” He chokes, hands flying to your hair to pull you off when you suck on the head of his cock. “I’m too-I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You smile as you straighten up and gently push him onto the bed, keeping your eyes on his as you strip down to nothing but his hat.

You grab a condom and crawl over him, tipping the hat back to kiss him deeply, pulling back with a bite to his lip to tear open the condom.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he breathes as he watches you put it on.

“So are you,” you murmur as you line him up to your entrance.

You mean it too as you look down at him laid out beneath you; skin flushed, chest heaving, desire in his eyes.

The sounds of your harmonized pleasure fill the room as you sink down on him.

“You’re so big,” you whimper when he bottoms out.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he praises, bringing his hand between your legs to circle your clit while you take a second to adjust, grunting when you clench around him.

“Keep-keep going, I’m close,” you gasp when you feel your orgasm approaching rapidly.

His free hand reaches up to pinch a nipple and that little bite of pain pushes you over the edge with a surprised cry.

“Fuckkkkk,” he groans desperately, trying not to thrust his hips up, “you’re squeezing me so tight.”

He’s still trembling with restraint when you come to.

You plant your hands on his shoulders and begin to move your hips; tentative at first but quickly growing confident.

“Feels so good,” you whimper before you lean down for a filthy kiss, murmuring against his lips. “You’re so good, Bradley.”

His eyes close and his hips stutter at your words; he likes being praised too.

You bite your lip to not smile as you tuck that information away to use later.

You’re getting close and you can tell he is too by his breathy sounds and the way his fingers on your clit are getting sloppy.

The hat falls off your head and is quickly forgotten as you lean down to kiss him while your fingers trace over his chest as you toe the edge.

When your fingers find his nipples and pinch without warning, he groans shamelessly against your lips, filling the condom.

A satisfied moan leaves you when his release triggers yours and to shiver at the overstimulated whimper he lets out as you contract around him.

He presses a kiss to your hair as you recover on his chest.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Not long after, you fall asleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in the same position.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Can you tell I hate Fords? 😂 Chet had it coming and I couldn’t resist letting Charlie bring the one to give it to him.

Also…I wrote the majority and edited this from 2 AM to 5 AM when I couldn’t sleep 🥴 so if something doesn’t make sense or there’s errors, let me know!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):

@mamamaystbr

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

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