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#once i've fixed my thoughts m
rae-writes · 8 months
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when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then
The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.
"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."
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Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"
Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"
Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."
Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."
Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."
Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."
Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."
Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"
Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."
Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."
Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"
bonus :
Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."
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hoshifighting · 2 months
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Threesome – Bratty Sub Seungcheol & Hard Dom Jeonghan
Synopsis: After weeks of trying to schedule a happy hour with your friends, you find space in your tiring schedule. Taking a time to have a Bratty Sub Seungcheol and a Hard Dom Jeonghan to take care of you.
Word Count: 5.6k
Warnings: Smut, threesome, sensory overload, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, degradation, praising, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, voyeurism, power dynamics and etc.
This reading is inspired in a request made through an Anon in my inbox!
As you settled in Jeonghan's cozy living room, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of your best friends, Seungcheol and Jeonghan, a sense of relief washed over you. It had been far too long since the three of you had managed to sync your schedules and just hang out. The weight of weeks of relentless work melted away as you cracked open cold beers and sank into the cushions of Jeonghan's sofa.
Jeonghan, with his signature pout, couldn't help but tease you about your perpetual busyness. "Hey, you finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh? We were starting to think you forgot about us completely!"
You chuckled, taking a swig of your drink before replying, "Hey, cut me some slack, will ya? You know how crazy things have been at work lately. But seeing you guys now, I realize just how much I've missed this."
Seungcheol chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, seriously, it's been too long. We were beginning to think you'd been abducted by aliens or something."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Well, thankfully, no alien abductions yet. Just drowning in paperwork and deadlines."
Jeonghan shook his head in mock disapproval. "You need to learn to take a break every once in a while, you know? Life's too short to be all work and no play."
You frowned slightly at Jeonghan's teasing, taking another sip of your drink to hide your amusement. But before the conversation could take a different turn, Seungcheol's voice cut through the air with unexpected boldness.
"So, Y/N," he began, his tone suddenly shifting to a more sensual one, "how's your love life been treating you lately? Any juicy details you've been keeping from us?"
The living room seemed to shift with the sudden change in atmosphere, the playful banter replaced by a charged energy that caught you off guard. You glanced at Seungcheol, eyebrows raised in surprise, before shooting a look at Jeonghan, who was grinning mischievously.
Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of conversation, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh, well, you know how it is... Work's been keeping me pretty occupied, so not much action on the romantic front lately."
Seungcheol leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "Come on, don't hold out on us. We're your best friends. Spill the tea."
You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the weight of their anticipation. "Alright, alright," you began, taking a deep breath, "I did go out with a guy from HR recently, but..." you trailed off, a hint of disappointment in your voice, "he wasn't exactly what I was looking for. Cute, sure, but way too vanilla for my taste."
As you looked down, chuckling at the absurdity of it all, you felt their eyes on you, exchanging glances with an expression you couldn't quite decipher.
Jeonghan, ever the curious one, broke the silence with a raised eyebrow and a sip of his beer. "So, what is it that you like then?" he asked, his gaze fixed on you.
You met his gaze, feeling a surge of honesty wash over you. "Honestly," you admitted, "I just felt like I needed more. Like I had to do everything in bed with him. And lately, I've just been yearning for someone to take care of me for a change."
Jeonghan's response was a low, contemplative hum as he licked his lips, a sign of his deep thoughtfulness. Seungcheol nodded understandingly, his arms crossed in front of him as he absorbed your words.
"You need to find someone who knows what they're doing," Jeonghan finally stated.
You chuckled, a playful glint in your eye as you teased, "Where am I gonna find that then? Boys nowadays are so difficult," throwing your head back with closed eyes, feigning exasperation.
Suddenly, beneath the table, you felt Seungcheol's touch, his hand gently caressing your thigh. Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and excitement. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of anticipation within you.
"Looks like you might not have to look too far…" Seungcheol whispered, but you and Jeonghan listened very clearly. 
As Jeonghan scoffed and walked off to the kitchen, Seungcheol seized the opportunity, his eyes searching for confirmation in yours. You met his gaze, feeling a rush of excitement mingled with apprehension, before nodding slightly, giving him the green light.
In an instant, Seungcheol closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that sent a thrill coursing through your veins. His tongue danced with yours, a fervent intensity igniting between you as he sucked gently on your lips.
Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and fear, the thought of Jeonghan catching you two sending a thrill of adrenaline through you. But in that moment, all you could focus on was the intoxicating sensation of Seungcheol's lips on yours.
Suddenly, you felt hands wrapping around your waist from behind, and soft kisses being trailed down your neck. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by Seungcheol's mouth as you arched into the touch, lost in the dizzying whirl of sensations.
"Jeonghan," you gasped, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The realization of the situation dawned on you, a mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through your veins as you struggled to catch your breath.
Jeonghan's smirk widened, his gaze flickering between you and Seungcheol. "Relax, Y/N," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle, "we're your best friends. We're just here to make sure you're taken care of."
As Jeonghan's hands slipped beneath the fabric of your top, a shiver of anticipation coursed through your body. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing along your skin as he pressed his fingers against your nipples with a delicate yet firm pressure. You couldn't help but melt at his touch, your breath catching in your throat as waves of sensation washed over you.
"Is that right?" you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty.
Jeonghan's response was a low chuckle, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. "Does it feel right?" he murmured, his fingers tracing teasing circles around your sensitive flesh.
You nodded, a soft moan escaping your lips as you leaned into his touch, craving more of the intoxicating sensation he elicited. 
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you realized Seungcheol was now in front of you, his gaze fixed on your flushed face. You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, feeling a surge of shyness washing over you.
Seungcheol gently lifted your chin with his hand, his touch tender yet commanding as he urged you to look at him. "Why are you shy, Y/N?" he asked softly, concern laced with desire evident in his eyes.
You swallowed nervously, feeling a knot form in the pit of your stomach as you struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, "It's just..."
Before you could finish your sentence, Seungcheol's other hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body as he caressed your wetness over your panties, stroking your clit. A gasp escaped your lips, your body responding instinctively to his touch as you arched into his hand, craving more.
Seungcheol's gaze never wavered as he continued to stroke you, his touch sending waves of pleasure radiating through your stomach. "You don't need to be shy with me," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "I want to make you feel good, too… Let me take care of you."
Before Seungcheol could proceed further, a commanding tone from Jeonghan cut through the heated atmosphere like a sudden gust of wind, freezing the moment in its tracks.
"Stop." Jeonghan's voice rang out, firm and authoritative, causing both you and Seungcheol to pause in your actions.
Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan with wide, doe-like eyes, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty flickering across his face. His hand hesitated, lingering at the waistband of your pants as he awaited further instruction.
Jeonghan's gaze shifted from Seungcheol to you, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene before him. There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by the sound of your erratic breathing.
Finally, Jeonghan spoke, his voice softened but no less commanding. "Not like this." he said, his tone carrying a weight of authority that brooked no argument. "Let's go to the bedroom."
Your heart raced at the suggestion, your legs trembling with a potent mix of anticipation and desire. You struggled to steady yourself, the overwhelming arousal making it difficult to stand.
Sensing your need, Seungcheol stepped forward, his strong arms wrapping around you to offer support. A chuckle escaped his lips as he felt you tremble against him, the sound both comforting and arousing in equal measure.
"Easy there," Seungcheol murmured, his voice low and husky, "I've got you."
s Jeonghan stood before you, his hands deftly pushing your top up, a shiver ran down your spine as the cool air hit your exposed nipples, causing them to harden in response. His touch trailed down your belly, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through your skin as he smirked knowingly.
With practiced ease, Jeonghan unbuttoned your pants, sliding them down your thighs with a gentle yet firm grip. You couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, feeling a rush of heat pooling between your legs as he exposed more of your trembling body to his gaze.
Then, as if sensing your need for reassurance, Jeonghan cupped your face in his hands, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, sending sparks of desire shooting through your veins.
Meanwhile, Seungcheol wasted no time in removing his own shirt, his bare chest pressing against your back as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. Trapped between the two bodies, your breath grew unsteady, the heat of their touch fueling the fire of desire that raged within you.
Seungcheol pressed his bulge against you, simulating the sensation of being penetrated, a moan escaped your lips, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. But before the moment could escalate further, Jeonghan abruptly halted the kiss, his expression suddenly serious as he addressed Seungcheol.
"Seungcheol, could you stop?" Jeonghan's tone was firm, his request laced with a hint of authority.
You clung to Jeonghan's shirt, feeling a mix of confusion and arousal as you turned to look at Seungcheol. 
But Seungcheol responded with a bratty tone, as he challenged Jeonghan's authority. "Why should I?" he retorted, his voice dripping with defiance, his hands still gripping your hips possessively.
Jeonghan's response was sharp, almost degrading, as he put Seungcheol in his place. "Because I said so," he snapped, his tone laced with authority, his eyes flashing with determination. "You'll obey me, understood?"
Seungcheol's attitude faltered for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and Jeonghan as he grappled with his own desires and the need to submit. Eventually, he relented, his demeanor shifting to one of obedience as he complied with Jeonghan's command.
As Jeonghan carefully laid you down on the bed, his lips tracing a path of kisses down your thighs, a shiver of anticipation coursed through your body. His touch was gentle yet electrifying, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every fiber of your being.
With delicate precision, he removed your panties, his fingers trailing teasingly along your skin as he discarded the last barrier between you and the overwhelming desire that consumed you.
Then, as he positioned you on his chest, his hands caressing your inner thighs, Seungcheol's voice cut through the heated atmosphere like a knife.
"Can I eat her out?" he asked, his tone thick with desire as he knelt before you, his eyes burning with hunger.
You nodded eagerly, unable to suppress the need that pulsed through your veins. But before Seungcheol could act, Jeonghan interjected, his voice calm yet commanding.
"Did I say you could?" Jeonghan's words were a challenge, a reminder of the dynamic that existed between them.
Seungcheol immediately sat back on his heels, his gaze flickering between you and Jeonghan as he grappled with his own desires and the need for permission.
With a deep breath, Seungcheol closed his eyes, his breath ragged as he struggled to maintain control. The sight of your glistening pussy before him was almost too much to bear, a tantalizing temptation that threatened to drive him to the brink of madness.
As Jeonghan's fingers traced between your wet folds, a hiss escaped your lips at the electrifying sensation. Your breath caught in your throat as he collected your slick, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
With deliberate care, he began to circle his fingertips around your clit, the sensation causing your legs to tremble uncontrollably. The intense arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach made it difficult to think, your mind consumed by a fog.
eungcheol's voice broke the silence, thick with desire as he asked, "Can I join in yet?"
Jeonghan's fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. With a smirk, he responded, "Not yet. For now, you're just going to watch."
The moment Jeonghan slid two fingers inside of your slick, wet pussy, a loud, squelching sound echoed in the room, mingling with your unabashed moans of pleasure. Your head fell back, resting on his shoulder, as you clutched his forearm with both hands, seeking support and grounding amidst the overwhelming waves of sensation crashing over you.
The stretch and pressure of his fingers filling you sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, each movement sending you deeper into a haze of ecstasy. You pressed yourself against him, seeking solace in his embrace as he skillfully worked you towards the edge of bliss.
As you glanced over at Seungcheol, you could see the hunger in his eyes, his hand moving discreetly, touching himself. The sight of him indulging in his own desire at the sight of you only fueled the fire burning within you, heightening your arousal to new heights.
"Uhh... mmm..." Your moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure echoing off the walls as Jeonghan's skilled fingers worked wonders inside you.
Then, in a sudden burst, Jeonghan curled his fingers, hitting your g'spot with pinpoint accuracy. Your eyes rolled back in your head as waves of pleasure crashed over you, a primal scream escaping your chest.
"Ah! Oh my g-god!" you cried out, your voice echoing with raw desire.
But Jeonghan's command snapped you out of your reverie. "Hands to yourself," he admonished, his voice firm yet laced with arousal.
Immediately, you obeyed, withdrawing your hands from where you had been gripping his arm, placing them obediently by your side.
The sensation of Jeonghan's fingers teasing your most sensitive spot sent you spiraling closer and closer to the edge of climax, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment.
"I'm going to cum, Jeonghan," you gasp out, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea as your walls clench tightly around his fingers. But Jeonghan remains quiet, his focus solely on driving you to the brink of ecstasy.
You steal one last glance at Seungcheol, the intensity of his gaze fueling the fire burning within you, before you close your eyes tight, surrendering yourself to the impending release.
As the waves of pleasure crash over you, you feel your body convulse with ecstasy, your inner muscles contracting rhythmically around Jeonghan's fingers. A prolonged moan escapes your lips, echoing through the room as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.
As Jeonghan removed his fingers from your trembling core, placing them firmly on your thighs and spreading you open, a sense of vulnerability washed over you. You gasped as you felt the cool air against your exposed flesh, your senses heightened by the anticipation of what was to come.
Then, his commanding voice broke through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. "Seungcheol, eat her out," he ordered, his tone firm and authoritative.
Your eyes widened at his command, your body still tingling from the intense orgasm moments before. You were too sensitive, too overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you to handle any more stimulation.
But Seungcheol wasted no time, his tongue diving eagerly into your dripping folds, sucking your clit between his lips with a hunger that mirrored your own desire. You contorted beneath him, the sensation almost too intense to bear as waves of pleasure crashed over you once again.
"N-no, too sensitive!" you managed to stammer out between moans, your body writhing with pleasure as you struggled to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. "S-Seungcheol-ah! Ah! I can't, I can't..."
Desperately, you reached out, grabbing onto Jeonghan, the sheets, anything you could find to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole.
Seungcheol held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as he continued to lavish attention on your throbbing clit, his tongue flicking and swirling with practiced skill.
Meanwhile, Jeonghan took charge, spreading your legs wider, immobilizing you as he positioned himself between them. Your hips instinctively began to move, humping your pussy against Seungcheol's face as Jeonghan held your trembling body in place.
"Such a good girl," Jeonghan murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "But you know you want this. You want to cum all over Seungcheol's face, don't you?"
His words only served to heighten your arousal, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another explosive climax. You couldn't help but revel in the delicious torment of being caught between the two men who knew exactly how to push you to the brink of.
As Seungcheol's tongue worked tirelessly to elicit more moans from your lips, you couldn't resist stealing a glance at him. His eyes locked with yours, filled with hunger and anticipation, seeking confirmation that he was indeed pleasing you. But that simple act of meeting his gaze proved to be your undoing.
"Oh S-Seungcheol!" you gasped, your body convulsing as the intensity of your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Seungcheol closed his eyes in bliss, savoring the taste of your sweet release as you soaked his mouth with your essence.
Jeonghan held you securely in his embrace, his hands roaming your trembling body as he continued the dirty talk that fueled the fire burning within you.
"That's it, cum for him," Jeonghan whispered, his voice a seductive murmur in your ear. "You're such a good little slut, letting Seungcheol devour you like that. Look at how wet you are for him. You can't get enough, can you?"
Jeonghan lets your legs go, and Seungcheol stops, a line of your cum between his lips and your pussy. He grins at you, licking his lips, enjoying the taste of your arousal. You smile back, feeling satisfied and exhilarated by the intense pleasure he just gave you. The sight of him with your essence still on his lips sends a surge of desire through you, even as you lay there, breathless and spent.
Jeonghan cocks his head slightly, catching sight of Seungcheol touching himself. A frown creases his brow as he moves closer, his voice laced with a hint of dominance.
"You're such a brat," Jeonghan admonishes, his tone dripping with disdain. "Can't even follow a simple command, can you? Always have to do things your own way."
Seungcheol's eyes widen in surprise, his hand freezing mid-stroke as he meets Jeonghan's gaze. There's a flicker of defiance in his eyes, but it quickly fades under the weight of Jeonghan's disapproving stare.
Jeonghan continues his tirade, his words cutting like a knife. "You think you can just do whatever you want, don't you? Well, let me remind you who's in charge here. It's not you. It's me."
Seungcheol's cheeks flush with embarrassment, his gaze dropping to the floor as he mumbles an apology. He knows he's crossed a line, pushed Jeonghan too far, and now he's facing the consequences of his actions.
"On your knees," you obediently followed Jeonghan's command, leaving the bed and kneeling on the floor before him. As he lowered his sweatpants and underwear, his cock sprung free, already glistening with precum. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, anticipation coursing through your veins.
Jeonghan's commanding tone sent a thrill down your spine as he instructed you to suck it. Suppressing a smile, you complied, running your tongue along the length of his shaft from base to tip before enveloping his cock in your hot mouth.
Seungcheol watched in awe as you took all of Jeonghan's length inside your mouth, your lips stretched around him as you eagerly worked to please him. Jeonghan's grip tightened on your hair, guiding you as you deepthroated him, your own desire to please him matched only by your desire to impress Seungcheol.
"See, Seungcheol?" Jeonghan's voice was a mixture of praise and degradation as he looked down at you. "Look at how good she is, taking me so well. She's a good girl, isn't she?"
You moaned in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure coursing through Jeonghan's body. Your desire to please him and prove yourself to Seungcheol only fueled your determination as you continued to suck and stroke him, eager to show them both just how skilled you could be.
As Jeonghan guided you to stand, his firm grip on your hair, you followed his lead obediently, feeling a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. With a gentle push, he directed Seungcheol to lay back on the bed, his gaze locking with yours as he positioned you on all fours over Seungcheol's prone form.
Your hand found purchase on the bed, the other resting on Seungcheol's chest as you braced yourself for what was to come. Then, without warning, Jeonghan entered you from behind, his cock sliding slowly but surely into your slick, eager pussy.
A gasp escaped your lips as you felt him fill you completely, the sensation both shocking and exhilarating. You hadn't expected Jeonghan to fuck you with Seungcheol beneath you, and the sheer intensity of the moment left you reeling with pleasure.
With each powerful thrust, Jeonghan's cock drove deeper into you, eliciting screams of pleasure that echoed through the room. Your hand clenched Seungcheol's chest tightly, the sensation causing him to hiss in response.
Feeling embarrassed by Seungcheol's proximity and intense gaze, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking solace in his comforting touch. His hand caressed your back soothingly, a silent gesture of understanding and support in the midst of the overwhelming pleasure.
"That's it, take it all, you dirty little slut," Jeonghan growled, his words fueling the fire burning within you. "You love getting fucked like this, don't you? With Seungcheol watching you, helpless and needy beneath you."
His words sent a shiver of arousal coursing through you, the slick sound of his cock pounding into your wet pussy growing louder with each passing moment. 
"Look at Seungcheol's face," Jeonghan's command pierced through the haze of pleasure, pulling you back to the present moment.
Seungcheol's own desire was palpable, his cock straining against his restraint as he watched you with hungry eyes. The sight of you moaning and writhing in pleasure, your gaze locked with his, sent a surge of arousal coursing through him, almost to the point of pain.
"Fuck," he breathed out, his voice strained with need as he struggled to maintain control. "You look so fucking hot like this."
Jeonghan turned to Seungcheol with a smirk, his voice dripping with amusement. "How much do you want to fuck this pussy?"
Seungcheol's eyes gleamed with desire as he replied, his voice husky with need. "I want to fuck you until you can't think straight Y/N." 
Your pussy clenched involuntarily around Jeonghan's cock at Seungcheol's words, the sheer intensity of his desire driving you wild with pleasure, a silent affirmation of your own desire.
Jeonghan moans at your sudden clench then he chuckles mockingly, his tone teasing. "Looks like someone liked hearing that," he remarked. "Did you enjoy that, sweetheart? Did Seungcheol's dirty talk make you clench so hard around my cock? Hhmm? Did it make you wet, feeling how much Seungcheol wants to fuck you?"
Jeonghan coos, his gaze flickering to you as he remarked, "Looks like she enjoyed hearing that, didn't she?" He nodded towards your trembling form, noting how you clenched tightly around his cock in response to Seungcheol's words.
Your breath hitched at his words, a moan escaping your lips as the sensation of Jeonghan's cock filling you combined with the eroticism of Seungcheol's words sent waves of pleasure crashing over you.
Undeterred, Jeonghan turned back to Seungcheol, his tone playful yet demanding. "Tell me again, Seungcheol. How much do you want to fuck this pussy?"
Seungcheol moaned in response, "I want to fuck you so hard!" he groaned, his words causing a surge of pleasure to course through you. 
Jeonghan laughed heartily at Seungcheol's words, his amusement evident in the sparkle of his eyes. "How pretty," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement and satisfaction. "She came just because you said that."
Jeonghan chuckled in amusement at your reaction, his laughter mingling with the sounds of your moans and the slick, wet sounds of his cock plunging into your cunt.
"Look at you baby…" he murmured, his tone laced with satisfaction. "So pretty when you cum like that, all because Seungcheol said a few words."
Seungcheol's expression was a mix of pride and desire as he watched you quiver and tremble with pleasure, your body reacting so intensely to his words. He couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at knowing the effect he had on you, at being able to elicit such a powerful response with just his voice.
As your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting and spent, Jeonghan leaned in closer, his voice low and seductive. "You're such a good girl, aren't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Cumming so hard just from Seungcheol's words. You're such a slut for him, aren't you?"
A mischievous grin spread across Jeonghan's face as he heard your response. "Yes, I love it. I love being a slut for Seungcheol." you declared with unabashed enthusiasm, embracing the label with pride.
Seungcheol's own desire flared at your words, his cock throbbing with renewed urgency as he watched the exchange between you and Jeonghan. The knowledge that you were willing to submit so completely to him sent a surge of lust coursing through him, igniting a fire of desire that threatened to consume him whole.
Jeonghan's laughter filled the room, a rich and satisfying sound that echoed off the walls. "That's my girl," he chuckled, his voice tinged with approval. "Such a good little slut for Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's eyes sparkled with desire as he heard your confession, a surge of arousal coursing through him at the sight of you embracing your submissive side so willingly.
With a satisfied smile, Jeonghan leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Now, let's see how much more you can take, my little slut."
Jeonghan's voice cut through the haze of desire that enveloped you, his words sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through your veins. "Can you ride Seungcheol for us, sweetheart?" he asked, his tone laced with desire and expectation.
You hesitated for a moment, your legs trembling with exhaustion from the intense pleasure you had already experienced. But as you looked into Seungcheol's eyes, seeing the raw desire and longing reflected there, you knew you couldn't deny him—or yourself—this pleasure.
Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you nodded slowly, determination flashing in your eyes. With shaky hands, you positioned yourself over Seungcheol's lap, his hard cock pressing against your entrance, begging for entry.
Seungcheol understood your hesitation, sensing the fatigue in your trembling legs. With a gentle touch, he guided you, supporting you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. He moved with care, knowing that if he didn't help you, you might sink too quickly and risk hurting yourself.
As you slid down onto him, feeling the fullness of his cock filling you once again, a moan of pleasure escaped your lips. Seungcheol held you close, his hands supporting you as you found a rhythm that worked for both of you.
And as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of riding him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the care and consideration he showed you, ensuring that every moment of pleasure was shared and enjoyed to the fullest.
With trembling legs and a relentless need for pleasure, you reached out, guiding Seungcheol's hands to your breasts, urging him to take control as you continued to ride his cock with abandon. Your wetness soaked his pelvis, evidence of your intense arousal and desire for him.
Your voice was hoarse from the screams of pleasure that had already escaped your lips, but now it was filled with the raw need and longing as you moaned Seungcheol's name. Your hands tightened around his, urging him to squeeze and fondle your breasts, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body.
Seungcheol whimpered in response, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he finally succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure of your wet and throbbing cunt. His hips thrust upward to meet yours, his cock driving deep inside you with each delicious stroke.
Jeonghan reclined against the headboard, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you exhaust yourself in an effort to please Seungcheol. His hand moved with increasing urgency over his own cock, mirroring the rhythm of your movements as you rode Seungcheol's cock with determined fervor.
As you felt the burn in your muscles and the sweat trickling down your back, Seungcheol's words of praise filled your ears, spurring you on even further. "That's it, baby," he moaned, his voice husky with desire. "You feel so fucking good. I'm loving watching you ride me like this."
Your heart swelled with pride at his words, your determination to please him driving you to push yourself even harder. With each thrust, you sought to elicit more moans of pleasure from him, your body moving with a desperate need for release.
Jeonghan's gaze never wavered from the sight before him, his own pleasure building with each stroke of his hand. He nodded in encouragement, urging you to keep going, to keep riding Seungcheol until you both cum. "Keep going, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice laced with desire. "You're doing so well. Ride him harder. I want to see you cum for us."
As you reached the peak of your pleasure, your vision blurred and your senses were consumed by a white-hot ecstasy unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your pussy clenched around Seungcheol's cock with such intensity that you could feel every ridge and vein, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
The sounds of Seungcheol's increasingly desperate moans filled the room, merging with the sensations of heat and wetness inside your cunt. And then, finally, you let go, surrendering to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that crashed over you with relentless force.
Your orgasm was prolonged and intense, the most powerful and satisfying climax of your life. As you collapsed against Seungcheol's chest, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, you lost all sense of time and space.
When you finally opened your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of Jeonghan and Seungcheol by your side, their faces a mixture of awe and concern as they gazed down at you. Their voices were a soothing mantra, calling out your name with both worry and wonder.
"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's voice was filled with concern, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek.
Jeonghan's expression mirrored Seungcheol's concern as he leaned in closer, his voice soft and reassuring. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin. "But we need to make sure you're okay. Can you hear me?"
You nodded weakly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you basked in the warmth and affection of their presence. Despite the intensity of the experience, you knew that you were safe and cared for, surrounded by the love and concern of your two closest friends.
"We need to take a bath," Jeonghan declared, breaking the post-orgasmic silence that hung in the air.
You glanced down at your state, the sweat and other fluids clinging to your skin, and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," you replied, your voice still slightly breathless from the intensity of your climax.
Seungcheol chuckled beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist. "Yeah, Jeonghan even came on my arm." he admitted with a smirk.
Jeonghan's eyes widened in horror, and he quickly swatted Seungcheol on the arm. "Yaaa! No need to tell her that!" he scolded, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
You couldn't help but burst into laughter at their exchange, the sound echoing through the room as you doubled over with mirth. "Oh my god, you guys are ridiculous!" you managed to gasp out between fits of laughter.
Despite his embarrassment, Jeonghan couldn't help but join in your laughter, the tension of the moment dissipating as he realized the absurdity of the situation. "Alright, alright, let's just get cleaned up." he said, still chuckling as he got to his feet.
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studioghibelli · 4 months
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toothache- a joel miller x reader fan fic
note: hello friends :) this is my first fan fic in a loooong time, and i've been quite inspired by all the lovely joel miller fics i have been reading lately. he's a character i find pretty... alluring. (hehehehe.) it's been quite some time since i've written anything about a fictional character so i hope you all enjoy. any tips, criticism, advice, comments, etc. are always welcomed, so feel free to say anything!
summary: after two long years apart, a failed relationship, and a wasted engagement ring, you and joel reunite at a family christmas party. old feelings come up, arguments ensue, and you somehow end up naked beneath him.
rating: 18+, "mature content" as the kids say, mdni!
word count: 5ish thousand
warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, dbf!joel, big phat huge giant slutty age gap (you pretty much decide, no specific ages actually mentioned, but obvs reader has been legal their entire relationship), no outbreak!au, daddy issues, reader has a bit of an outburst, mentions of christianity, reader is hit by their father once, a delicious bit of angst littered about occasionally, reader just got out of a relationship, childfree!joel, daddy issues, guilt, cocky arrogant charming!joel, a few catty arguments, joel and reader have a PAAAAST, SHMUT (PiV, unprotected sex, creampie, f and m receiving oral, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names, ehhh i think i got it all.)
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Beneath the canopy of glimmering Texas stars, a blanket of dark solitude rested upon your covered shoulders. This night, a chilling, nippy Thursday evening half past eight, was much more calming than most. The wind howled sweetly in the distance, accompanied by the fluttering shake of oak leaves, crisp with the oranges of autumn, browning and crisping at the edges like an overbaked pie crust.
Looking in through the dusty, fogged windows of your childhood home, you saw your mother pacing about, hanging up tinsel and elaborate ornaments throughout the living room, muttering what you could only imagine would be prayers as she dealt with the stress of party planning. Your father sat on a leather arm chair, legs crossed atop the mahogany table, flipping through the channels like a drone, his zombie crusted eyes glazed over with the promise of mindless watching.
The annual Christmas party your parents held religiously each year was tomorrow, Friday the 22nd, at exactly 6PM. You had flown in from the city you had managed to settle in almost three days ago, and were met with all the reasons you had left Austin in the first place. An aggressive and brutal father, a critical mother, and a wallpaper stained room full of regret, slathered with the oil of guilt. Your bedsheets reminded you of him, your pillows were fluffed with images of his graying curls, and the sight of your carpet made your knees burn with the thought of all the times he had you kneel before him.
His hands, rough and calloused by long days working on his truck, contracting out his skills, fixing sinks and mowing lawns for the neighbors. Long fingers leaving trail marks and imprints red with the burn of lust, rough lips that had memorized each part of your neck, your shoulders, your thighs, your collarbones. Your cotton sheets still smelled like him. Like waves of vanilla bergamot wafting through an amber forest, like a night full of sweet promises and well-kept secrets.
Deep down you knew you shouldn't be thinking about him. Especially not right after a breakup. A breakup with the man you had planned to marry. Some mornings you could still feel the weight of the now lost diamond atop your ring finger, somedays you could still smell the citrus of his shampoo, feel the smoothness of his kisses. But he wasn't Joel.
Joel.
You knew it was wrong. You knew you shouldn't have closed your eyes and imagined him, especially not while being fucked by another. But for some reason, some reason completely unknown and foreign to you, you just couldn't burn his image, his taste, his scent from your memory. Whether your ex-fiancé would climb on top of you, take you from behind, lay beneath you- whatever it was he did- you couldn't shake Joel fucking Miller from your head.
"Tha's it, babydoll." A guttural groan seared through your ears like the heavy bass of a song, engulfing your senses with the high burning flames of pride that his praise so often left you feeling. "S'good for daddy."
Joel watched with darkening eyes as your tongue swirled along the tip of his head, licking the precum that leaked from his thick, twitching cock. His fingers had stitched themselves within the yarn of your hair, pulling and guiding you exactly where he wanted you to go. But Joel didn't have to do that much. Oh, no. Not with you. It was as if you were apart of him, as if you knew exactly what he wanted, right when he wanted it. Like you could read his mind. His thoughts were yours to swim through just as much as they were his.
You stared up at him with big doe eyes and, unbeknownst to him, eyes full of adoration. All you wanted was to please him. All you wanted was to taste his cum and feel his love. All you wanted was him. Every day, every night, every morning, every holiday. And although you were young, you were certainly not naive, and you knew why Joel snuck in through your window at night. Not for love, not for deep conversation, not for peace. When he sought you out, he wanted to partake in carnal sin with you. Joel wanted to lick your skin and taste your passion, he wanted to swallow your moans and take you like a wild animal, hungry for a taste of your sweet, devilish nectar.
You gulped thickly in the dead silence of night, staring up at the crescent moon. Thoughts of him filled you dreadfully full to the brim, and all the guilt from the nights you spent dreaming of him and not the man you were supposed to marry, came bubbling up to the surface, choking you. In the end, it was the reason you left your clueless, heartbroken fiancé. You could no longer lie to yourself, you could no longer go about with the it is what it is mindset.
As the night darkened with swirls of purple and navy, and the air grew colder with December chills, you decided it was finally time to go inside. When you got in bed you were met by the absence of his warmth, by the longing for his touch, the smell of his skin, the linger of his fingers. You fell asleep to thoughts of him, dreaming of what once was.
_______
The living room of your old home had been transformed into a winter wonderland full of crimson and gold, the smell of mulled wine and freshly baked bread thick in the air. A crackling fire raged on in the fireplace, filling the room with a warmth not usually found within their walls, and guests were strung about on couches talking, leaning against walls and flirting, and some lingered about the kitchen taste-testing your mother's newest creations.
You wore a simple red dress with black tights and a matching cardigan that would just not stay up on your shoulders, blending in with everyone else for the most part. Your makeup was done, hair perfect, jewelry secured- everything that played a vital role to look presentable at a function held by your parents, you had made sure to do. There was no use in upsetting them, not after the anger and resentment they threw at you when you broke up with that dear sweet boy they thought was just much too good for you.
You rolled your eyes at the thought.
There was a heavy knock on the door that it seemed only you heard, the radio to your left playing a mix of vintage Christmas music you had had memorized since you were a little girl. Setting down the glass of wine, you made your way to the front, slowly opening the door.
A slap in the face of that delicious, panty soaking cologne threw you for a loop. You didn't have to look up from the broad, flannel covered chest to know exactly who it was. Your legs were already shaking, mouth already watering. Yet, despite this, anger drummed within your chest, tugging at your heart with its gnarled, sharpened claws.
Your eyes flicked up to meet his own. Those honeyed orbs that reminded you of the earth after a fresh rain, deep and knowing and mysterious and.... perfect. Always so perfect, so beautiful.
"Joel Miller." You stated, much more plainly than you thought you could ever muster.
"Well hello there darlin'. Long time no see." He purred so sweetly you would have missed the sarcasm if you weren't properly listening. A shit eating smirk tugged at his lips, hidden behind the dark moustache you had become well acquainted with many moons ago. "You sure look pretty. Did ya' miss me?"
A tight clench to your jaw caused your teeth to hurt, nostrils flaring with the heat of aggravation. Your body deceived you, crying out for his touch. It didn't forget all those orgasms he gave you, all those marks he left. How could it?
"No. I did not." You finally lied right through your teeth, cementing your fate in the fiery pits of hell as you grudgingly allowed him to enter.
Joel still towered over you menacingly, and it made your thighs press against themselves. He stared at you, long and hard, taking you in like a drunkard scanning the liquor aisle. "No ring?" He finally spoke.
"No. I left him."
He sniggered, raising an eyebrow. "Probably 'cause you were thinkin' about me too much."
"Just go get some beer, talk to my dad, and leave me alone!" You finally snarled, narrowing your eyes at him. Joel raised his hands in silent defense, shot you a wink, and left you standing in the foyer like a dumb, lost fool.
All night you tried to avoid him. Despite this pact you made with yourself, your eyes always managed to wander towards him, and he always managed to catch you staring. He never approached you about it, he just tilted his lips in a smirk and went right back to whatever conversation he was apart of, nursing a dripping bottle of Modelo, with that damned smirk never leaving.
It wasn't until dinner was being served that you noticed your place card settled right beside his. Great. You groaned.
"It's too late to change places now. You should have told me earlier." Your mother scolded you for your audible discomfort, setting down the casserole dish of sweet potatoes. "Next year, tell me in advance. Instead of waiting last minute and moping about!"
"Yes ma'am." You muttered.
A group of men walked in discussing football amongst themselves, and the remaining chairs were soon full of their laughter and conversation. Joel sat down beside you, smoothing out his jeans with those perfectly roughed up hands. You glanced down at them, tracing his knuckles and nail beds with your eyes. You began chewing on your lower lip, and he had no doubt what you were thinking of.
"Betcha' missed these hands. Hmm?" His voice was so quiet, only you could hear. "These fingers, too."
"You are the most arrogant fucking man in the entire universe, Joel Miller. Has anyone ever told you that?"
His eyes lit up with delight. You stared into them, old memories and feelings you had tried to suppress rushing to the forefront of your mind. The sting of guilt filled your heart. "You jus' did, darlin'." You groaned again, quietly this time, and your ears twitched in annoyance at the sound of his sly chuckle.
"Let's say grace." Your father held out his hands, that fake smile of his stretched out across his face, painfully taut and insincere. He wore a pitiful clown mask. Always had.
You took the hand of the person to your left, someone your mother used to know from a Bible study, and with an annoyed eye roll, grabbed Joel's hand to your right rather brutally. The roughness of his palm felt warm and familiar, and Joel took note of how your legs squeezed together at the initial contact.
"Our father..." Your own began, and you slowly turned to face Joel.
His tongue swiped across his lower lip, his eyes shut as he did his best to listen to the falsehoods your father peddled, about family and togetherness and the giving season of Christmas, and so on so forth.
But Joel wasn't stupid.
He felt your gaze burning holes right through him, and had no problem cracking open an eyelid to meet your line of sight. Your cheeks burnt with embarrassment, and you quickly looked away, too nervous, too scared, too everything to meet those chocolate orbs again.
His thumb circled itself across your knuckles, the rough pad of his digit igniting a fire within you, and you felt his arm slowly moving your entwined hands down towards your thigh. You didn't stop him. How could you? He let go of your grasp, his fingers digging into the fabric of your sheer tights, lifting your dress up ever so slightly. His short nails danced across your skin, lightly tracing shapes and letters against it. Slowly crawling higher, higher, higher....
"- We love you, our good and almighty Father. Amen."
Joel took his hand away, and no one was the wiser.
No one except you. You cleared your throat quietly, beginning to pass around the fresh, steaming food to those nearest of you.
For a while you stared at your plate. Honeyed ham, whipped potatoes, sauteed green beans, crisp broccoli. None of it sounded good. You poked around with your fork, chewing on your lip as you mindlessly paid attention to the conversation bustling around you. Joel was immersed in a conversation with your father about the NHL or NFL, you didn't know because you didn't really care, and your mother was laughing with her friends about shared nail salon stories and talks of their husbands.
"You know, our daughter could have had a husband by the New Year." Your mother finally said, pointing the rim of her wineglass towards you. The blood colored liquid sloshed against the transparent glass, dribbling down the side like falling tears.
Looking up from your plate, you faked a smile. "Yep. Could've."
"Can you believe this girl, Joel?" Your father finally spoke, shoving a fork full of casserole into his wide mouth. "He was perfect, really. Polite, hard working, on his way to law school. Apparently she doesn't know what's good for her." He was practically guffawing, his eyes rolling with each syllable.
Joel turned, looking at you. His brows were knitted together, lips slightly parted, and he looked at you with a curiosity you had not seen him show before. You cleared your throat once more, finally taking a bite of your potatoes and steering away from his burning gaze.
"You're right, dad. I don't know what's good for me."
"When I was her age, phew..." Your mother wiped the fake sweat from her brow, her friends joining her in a choir of laughter. "Let me just tell you, I never would have let a catch like that go. He was so handsome, too."
"Why'd you even leave him, anyways? You never did tell us. Your poor mother was up all night crying when you finally broke the news."
You dropped your fork with a loud clang against the porcelain of your mother's finest China, shrugging your shoulders with an exasperated groan. "You know, I don't really know. I guess I just felt like it!" You lied, your tone dripping with annoyance, soaked with the familiar hiss of sarcasm. "I guess- well you know me- my tiny little female brain can't possibly comprehend what's good for me!" Abruptly, you stood up from the dining room table, narrowing your eyes.
"Don't talk to your father like-"
"You want to know why I really left him, pops? Are you dying to know?"
His cheeks had puffed up like the chest of a mating bird, eyes darkening dangerously quick as he stared daggers into your soul, praying and hoping you would keep talking. Anything for an excuse to have a go at you. "Why?" His voice was low, yet still inquisitive.
"Because the only time I could cum was if I was thinking about another man. Are you happy now? He couldn't please me. He was lazy. Annoying. Li-"
Whack.
Right across the face. A searing hot poker branding your cheek with a hefty, molten, angry slap. His tongue swiped the inside of his cheek, yellowing teeth gritting against themselves so hard you could have sworn you heard a crack. He had his finger pointed, ready to pull the trigger and unleash a spew of cusses and shouts your way, before he was stopped by Joel's deep, anger laden voice.
"Hey!" Joel had jumped up on his feet with lightning fast reflexes, and the room had gone eerily quiet. "Come on now, man. That ain't how we treat ladies." He had grabbed your elbow to help steady you, your head dizzy and eyes clouded with prickling tears. Your father shot daggers at you, paid barely any mind to Joel, and stormed out of the room, steam bellowing from his ears.
Joel looked at your mom, the deep crease settling in against his forehead. "I'll help clean 'er up. Jus' stay here and enjoy the rest of your dinner." He managed a charming smile despite the anger brewing inside the tightness of his chest, and you walked alongside him as he led the way to your room.
Your room.
Joel found the lingering scent of vanilla and tobacco candles filtering in through his nostrils, the familiarity transporting him back to nights dripping with the silver hue of the moon, the softness of your skin and the swirling of your tongue heavy at the forefront of his memories. It reminded him of your gaze, hungry and devilish, the sharpness of your incisors biting into his skin as he took you hard, as he took you rough, as he made you his. The whisper of your sweet voice, the feeling of your chest against his, the way you made him dizzy with the addicting high of desire.
Now is not the time. Not now, while you held your cheek and stared angrily at your wall, tears of both resignation and resentment pooling, your mascara flaking by the corners of your eyes. He felt a bit like a horned up asshole, admittedly.
Joel crouched in front of you. His jeans spread tight against the thickness of his thighs, the top buttons of his flannel unbuttoned, giving you access to the golden hue of his chest. Now is not the time, you thought to yourself. Not when you wanted to be angry at him, not when you craved to push him away.
"You are the last person I need taking care of me." You snarled. "I-I-" A hiccup erupted from your mouth, a shaky sob leaving you. You were embarrassed by the fact you had crumbled so quickly. "Just leave. Like.... like you did the last time."
"The last time?" He spoke incredulously. "Is your brain workin' properly?" You stared bitterly in his direction, arms now crossed over your chest. "I don't know if you remember, but you're the one that left me."
You sat in silence, top lip curling with confusion. "I asked if you wanted to come with me..."
"To some fancy city hundreds'a miles away from my home? Just up an' startin' a completely new life? That's what you were askin' me to do, babydoll. It was you who decided to leave." His fingers found their way to your knees, his voice calm yet firm. He gave them a tight squeeze, letting you know he was there, that he was present, that he wasn't planning on letting go.
"Are you blind? Did you not just see what happened out there?" You sniffled, wiping your runny nose on the sleeve of your black cardigan. You didn't push his grip away, not when it felt so warm, so good. "I had to leave, Joel."
"If you woulda asked, instead of running off all impatient like ya' did, I would've taken us somewhere. Southwest.... Dallas, maybe. I-I haven't put much thought into it." A complete lie. Even Joel couldn't convince himself of that.
Oh, he had thought of it alright. Day and night, when all he had was his right hand to keep him company, when you were far away sleeping with that kid who wasn't him. For the first time in his life, he had found himself feeling jealous. Jealousy caused by a woman he had no business being so fond, so infatuated, so in love with. A part of him felt ridden with guilt, unsure of the implications your relationship had. The other part didn't give a flying fuck.
"You.... you really would’ve?" Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper. Joel felt his heart tight against his chest. It hurt for you.
All he did was nod.
"And I-and I left you!" You wailed into your hands, falling against his chest. "I fucked it all up!"
"Shh." He held you quietly, his heavy palm rubbing circles into your lower back, gently thumbing the fabric every so often. "S'alright, now. I'm here. I've got you, babydoll."
"I can't even imagine how you felt." You mumbled into his ear, your fingers finding a stray curl behind it. "Knowing I was off with some idiot." A thick stutter of breath got caught in your throat, your nose still sniffling. "I thought of you everyday."
Joel nodded against your head. "I know, I know you did."
"Now is not the time for your ego-"
He cut you off. "I know, because I did too. And me and you? Well, I always thought we were entwined. One in the same. Same typa' fabric, or cloth or.... somethin'."
You pulled away, blinking slowly. "Are you being romantic with me?"
He nodded slowly.
You weren't quite sure what to do, you just stared at the man before you, heart pounding, eyelids fluttering. He moved his hand higher up your leg until he reached your waist, tightly holding it. His fingers grasped into your skin, gently keeping you in place for his eyes only. Joel savoured your presence, taking in every inch of you that he hadn't seen for what felt like a lifetime.
"Will you get up here... with-...." you trailed off for a moment, slightly worried, "-with me?"
"I was startin' to think you'd never ask." He climbed up on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. Joel pat his hands on his lap, beckoning you to come closer and take a seat on him.
"Maybe.... take those off?" You pointed to his jeans, chewing on the inside of your cheek. A smirk graced his mouth, and he nodded in silent agreement, quickly kicking off his worn leather boots and denim jeans. You settled down on his lap, legs on each side of him as you straddled his waist, nose to nose with him.
You had always adored his nose. Slightly curved, with a beautiful bridge that ever so slightly jutted out. Joel was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and you had seen many men. The crows feet by his eyes had deepened since the last time you saw him, and his curls had been salted with more strands of white. His cheeks were scruffy with prickly facial hair, but his thick moustache had always remained the same. You gently ran your finger across it, setting your palm against his cheek.
He leaned closer to you, fingers brushing a few stray hairs away, before planting his lips against yours in a deep, sensual kiss. Your stomach awakened with butterflies, fluttering and kicking against your rib cage, before all you could taste or smell was Joel.
Joel, Joel, Joel.
That's all you heard in your mind.
Joel's fingers crept towards the heat of your middle, and he let out a deep grunt of frustration when he realized you still had on your pantyhose. It didn't take long for him to quite literally rip them off, setting you back down on his lap as he held you tight and close, almost fearful of letting go. His thick finger traced down the middle of your cotton underwear. Joel felt the wetness pooling at the front, and he smiled a genuine smile against your mouth.
All for me, he thought to himself.
"Look at me."
You pulled away, his lips now stained like cherries from your lipstick, his hair slightly disheveled and out of place. He took a hard swallow, gently running his hand down the side of your face, burying it in your hair.
"Let me make you feel good."
You nodded quickly, falling back on the softness of your mattress.
He peeled your cardigan off, followed by your dress and his own shirt, and you were left with nothing but your mismatched bra and panties, a picture of perfection laid out before him. His hands trailed down your belly, its supple softness a stark contrast to the well-worked leather of his aging hands.
Joel slightly shook his head. "You're so beautiful." He leaned down, planting a kiss to your stomach, his chin resting on your cloth covered mound. "But you already knew that." You giggled softly to yourself, rolling your eyes as you gently cupped his head in your hand.
"If I didn't before, I certainly do now."
He fingered his digits through the hem of your underwear, quickly discarding them and throwing them off to the side. "Ain't she a 'beaut..... now that's somethin' I've not seen for quite some time." He pushed your legs apart gingerly, face to face with your pink, glistening pussy, open and laid bare for his eyes only. You saw the thirst swirling around in the orbs of his eyes.
Joel circled your swollen clit with the tip of his index finger before gently pushing it into your opening, smiling to himself as he heard your wetness. A quiet moan escaped you, and you gently brushed your thumb against the corner of his eye, staring down at him.
He was so handsome. So handsome. That's all you could think of as his fingers continued their much welcomed exploration of the folds of your labia. Joel relished in the slick coat of your glistening arousal on his fingers, and he felt his jaw tighten with a mouth watering craving for the sweet taste of your cum in his mouth.
He couldn't hold back anymore.
He leaned forward, wrapping his lips around your throbbing clit. It elicited a long moan from your lips as you tried your hardest to remain quiet, your stupid family’s Christmas party still playing its scenes just outside your door. Joel swirled the tip of his tongue against your button, his big hands holding your thighs in place.
"Oh, Joel." You mewled quietly, fingers knotting themselves in his hair. "Right there baby, right there."
He hummed against the folds of your pussy, tracing shapes with his tongue, altering between slow and quick, soft and hard. He knew just what you liked, just what you wanted from him, and he had no problem entertaining your wishes.
Joel pulled away, pushing his middle and ring finger inside your entrance, its tightness engulfing him right up to the knuckle. He groaned, knowing how good you felt stretched out on his cock like the good girl you always were, always had been, for him.
"Jus' like this, darlin'?" He muttered, already knowing the answer. Your eyes met his, as he slowly pressed up against the spot he knew made you go crazy.
"Mmhm." You whimpered, holding his curls even tighter. "Need to cum, Joel."
"Ask nicely, baby. Where are your manners?"
"Please. Please. I want you to cum for you, daddy."
"That's better." Joel growled a primal growl deep in the confines of his throat, leaning back down and sucking your clit into his mouth.
If there was one thing Joel loved without a doubt in this life, it was eating your pussy. He loved pushing his nose into your clit while he fucked your folds with his tongue, he loved overstimulating it after a particularly violent and shattering orgasm, he loved teasing it with feather light touches. He loved feeling you squirm, hearing you whimper, listening to his name like a prayer on your lips. You chanted his name like he was your God, your savior, your protector. You chanted his name like it was the only name you had ever learned. And by God did it get him riled up.
Joel shoved his tongue further inside of you, tasting your sweetness, lapping it up like a dog who had just found water after days of searching.
"Damn honey, gonna give me a fuckin' toothache with the way you taste. So fuckin’ sweet. So good.” His voice was raspy with desire, fingers fucking you deep and hard, your clit trembling between his lips.
"Oh, God.... oh, daddy."
"Tha's it, babydoll. You gonna cum for me?"
"Oh!" You cried out softly as his fingers pressed against your g-spot, his tongue swirling across your clit steadily and firmly. You were on the brink now, right at your breaking point. He kept up the sameness of his movements, repeating each step as perfectly as the last. It only took a few blinks, and waves of pleasure came rushing across your body, flooding all your senses as your ears rang with your first proper orgasm in God only knows how long.
"Daddy, daddy, Joel, oh-fuck me-Jesus, oh, God." You had no wits about you, blabbering and muttering like a fool, clawing at his scalp and pulling his hair until his eyes burnt.
Joel pulled away from your clit and placed the flat of his tongue against your folds, slowly licking you from bottom to top, before his mouth rested on your sensitive button once more. He planted a deep kiss against it, making sure he didn't miss an ounce of your dribbling cum.
"Was that nice?" He asked smugly, his facial hair coated and shimmering with your juices. He already knew the answer his question would elicit, he just liked being a bastard sometimes.
"Mhmm." Was all you could manage.
Your eyes wandered down to his remarkably tight boxers, his bulge tenting up against the fabric. "Fuck me." You whispered. "Please."
"So polite." His voice was like a purr, and he shot a cocky smile your way. "Yeah, I'll fuck you alright. Daddy's gonna make that pussy feel real nice." His deep Southern drawl sent shivers down your spine, his voice so deep and raspy. All man, Joel Miller.
He climbed on top of you, his arms on each side of your head, cradling your face as he looked down at you. Your gazes met, and a lovesick smile broke across your face. "God, I missed you."
Joel had to strain his ears to hear you properly. "I missed you." He admitted in turn.
He grinded against you, his boxers coated in your arousal. You felt the thickness of his cock pressing deeper into you, and your moans of want, no- of need- were all that filled his ears. "Want me to fuck that lil' pussy?"
"Please. Please, daddy."
"Don't think I'm gonna go easy on ya' just because it's been a while." He chuckled into the crook of your neck as he pulled his boxers down, his dick springing out with a gentle slap against your thigh.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"That's my girl." The head of his dick was pressed against your entrance, and he met your forehead with his own. Your noses melded together, lips brushing against the other, and Joel pushed in with one swift motion.
You couldn't help but gasp. "Jesus Christ. Feels so good, Joel."
"You're so fuckin' tight."
Your nails gently dug into his shoulders at the sound of his voice. Deep, guttural, primal. His eyes were blinded with archaic desire, lip caught between his teeth as he watched your face with every thrust, every twitch. Joel thought you looked perfect beneath him. A portrait of angelic beauty, for his eyes only. Smooth skin, a dazzling smile, eyes full of emotion reserved just for him- he felt like the luckiest man in the world, getting to take you just like this. His thumb swiped a strand of hair that had strayed away from your scalp, and he nuzzled his prickly cheek against yours, causing a faint burning sensation that felt too good to pull away from.
“Joel?” You muttered quietly into his shoulder, your fingers cascading down the center of his broad shoulders.
“Y’okay babydoll?”
“Joel, I-” Your forthcoming soliloquy was cut off by a moan from the back of your throat, and your fingers grasped ahold of his curls even tighter, his face scrunching up with a pained wince. “Sorry. I-”
Joel’s thrusts were deep, hard, slow, he hit every spot he knew made you shiver, every spot he knew made you drool and gasp for him. He loved watching your face contort with pleasure, the way your eyes would go wide and nostrils flare with every deep breath, the way your tits looked as your chest inflated with gasps of air.
“What was that?” His words were laced with smugness. He was making you feel this good. He was. Joel Miller was the luckiest man in the world, getting to fuck your pretty pussy.
“I just wanted to say- I- Oh!” His cock twitched inside of you, and you could feel his own orgasm soon approaching. “I just wanted to say thank you.” Followed by a whimper that made Joel’s stomach twist with some fancy feeling he hadn’t felt for quite some time.
“For?” He muttered between each thrust, eyebrows knitted tightly together as he focused on his movements, one of his hands holding himself up, the other buried against your head, warm beneath the comfort of your hair.
“Everything. What you did for me earlier, oh-oh! Mmm. Yeah, right there. And-and how you take care of me. How you make me feel.”
Joel nuzzled his forehead closer to your own, eyes dead set on the other, lips brushing together. You felt his fingers gripping tighter, teeth clenched, eyebrows tightly together. For a moment you wondered if you shouldn’t have said what you said, or perhaps waited until a better time, but Joel quickly relieved you of the negative thoughts creeping in, and kissed you with a fervent passion he didn’t know was inside of him.
You moaned against his mouth, tugging at his curls, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he kept his pace.
“Makin’ me blush.” Joel groaned out once he pulled away, nodding a bit as if he were giving himself an internal pep talk before continuing his speech. “Thank you for lettin’ this old fool take care of you.” You giggled softly, shaking your head in disapproval.
“You’re not an old fool.” Peppering his face in soft, gentle kisses of affection, you laid your head back down and stared up at him. “You’re just old.”
Joel rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter how old I am, darlin’. Still gonna make you cum for me.”
You let out a soft moan at his promise, feeling his hand snake down to your pussy once again. His middle finger began tracing circles in your sensitive clit, wet and welcoming as he filled you up to the hilt with his thick cock. He had never felt something so good, so sweet. He figured he must have been the luckiest man in the world, and he knew he was an idiot to have willingly let you go so many moons ago. Joel figured he could have saved you from a lot of heartbreak and restless nights.
Your walls clenched tightly around him, and you felt that familiar sensation of an oncoming high brewing within your stomach. “Gonna cum, daddy. Gonna cum for you.”
“Yeah? You gonna cum all over this dick? Like the good girl you are?”
That did your head in. That was the final nail in the coffin. You had to bite down on his shoulder, hard, to muffle the sounds of your orgasm, your pussy contracting against his dick as he rode you through your orgasm, making sure to hit that spot as he did so.
It wasn’t long until you felt his own orgasm coming in the form of sloppy pushes and muffled grunts. Sweat had started beading up at his forehead, stray curls sticking down in every which way, and you held his face in your hands as you watched the emotion enter and leave his masculine, solemn features. There was nothing quite like watching him finish inside you. His jaw would clench, his forehead would wrinkle, and his eyes would always meet yours as he pushed his nose into your cheek, whispering your name like it was a promise. And this time was no different.
Joel held you tight, stuck to you like glue as his orgasm washed through him, and when it faded away he was still holding you against his hot, sweaty chest, hands in your hair and mouth on your neck.
“Oh, Joel.” You murmured, brushing his hair back.
There was a long moment of silence as he caught his breath. Finally, he spoke:
“Let me take you away from here.”
Swallowing a thick lump that had been forming in the back of your throat, you propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him curiously. “Right…. right now?”
“I should’ve done it two years ago. I should’ve…. should’ve known what was goin’ on. If I knew he hit you like that-”
“It isn’t your fault, Joel. I shouldn’t have….” Taking in a shaky breath, you scooped his hand into your own. “Take me anywhere you want. Anywhere in the world, and I’ll be by your side through it all.”
Joel looked at you with a glimmer in the darkness of his eyes, and in that moment he knew just what he had to do. He would move mountains for you if it meant keeping you safe, he’d climb Mount fucking Everest if he had to, and in that second your eyes met, he promised himself harm would never, ever come to you again.
In the silver light of the moon that came swirling in through the transparent curtains of your room, he had never seen you look so beautiful. He knew he was in love, as your big eyes stared up at him, full of hope and adoration. He knew he would do anything it took to take you away from this God forsaken place that had caused you so much harm.
He would be your protector, until the day he died, and no harm would come to you under his watch. As he took your face in his hands and professed his love through deep kisses, that was all he knew. You, and the deep, lovely feeling that you would always be for him and his eyes only.
Oh, if only Joel knew the world would be ending soon.
801 notes · View notes
matryosika · 5 months
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Extracurricular
Pairing — Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount — 9,281 words Includes — College AU, strangers to something. Shy and inexperienced Hyunjin. Explicit content, smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — This was... a ride. I'm used to writing super filthy smut, but I think this one is pretty soft and wholesome. I enjoyed this idea a lot, and I enjoyed writing it too. I was between Seungmin, Mark and Hyunjin for this one, but I eventually decided to go with Hyunjin because... I don't think I've read a lot about him in this kind of dynamic haha. Also to indulge myself. I hope you guys like it; if you do, please like/reblog and leave an ask or comment! Remember that I own a ko-fi, in case you want to support my work further (link in my post pinned!) Every tip is super helpful to me.
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Smut warnings: Kind of perv!Hyunjin if you squint. Hyunjin gets hard during a non-sexual context and reader catches it. Soft dirty talk, handjob, fingering, oral sex (both m. and f. receiving), deepthroating and super soft face fucking, cum eating, multiple orgasms (for both characters). Penetrative sex, unprotected sex (contraceptives are discussed), creampie.
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[15:47 p.m.] You: 8, my place. 
Hyunjin tilted his head while reading your text, unsure about what he should reply. It wasn’t a question, nor a proposal; it was an order, something he had to accept rather than negotiate. 
[15:48 p.m.] Hyunjin: Yeah. 
For once, he was glad about being partnered with someone who enjoyed taking the lead. Had it been any other classmate of his, Hyunjin was sure he would’ve been forced to take the initiative. 
This time around, though, he wasn’t. But at what cost? The relief of being grouped with someone like you wasn’t as comforting as any other would think. Sure, more than one classmate would’ve done anything to be paired with you, but Hyunjin just couldn’t feel the same. 
[15:50 p.m.] You: my apartment is near Namyeong station. 
[15:50 p.m.] You: I'll text you the address later, wait. 
He spent the following hours waiting for your text, wondering how fate had played such cards on him. Was it a divine punishment? Or a devilish blessing? Hyunjin just couldn’t know.
*
He stood in front of your apartment door for minutes, debating on whether he should knock right away or wait a little bit longer. The clock on his cellphone screen Hyunjined 8:02, yet he didn’t want to look too desperate to get inside your place, even when he was.
So, Hyunjin opted to wait a few more minutes before knocking on your door. He thought about it as a way to soothe himself, though it was useless —no amount of waiting time could fight the awkwardness of getting to hang around you for a whole evening.
Despite knowing that, he tried his best. He brushed his sweaty palms against the fabric of his sweatpants, fixed his hair, cleared his throat, and rehearsed his greeting.
“Hey,” he whispered to himself. Too sharp. “Hello,” too weird. “Hi,” totally not like him.
“What’s up?,” Hyunjin finally concluded. What’s up? Casual, friendly, and not too uptight —even when that's probably one word he would use to describe himself.
With tons of hesitation, and motivated by the already wasted time, Hyunjin finally knocked on your door. He went for three knocks, one right after the other.
Surprisingly, you answered the door after the second one.
“What were you doing?”
It wasn't that Hyunjin needed to have everything under his control, but he wished to have at least some of it. From the moment you choose your own place for the project meeting, to the blunt question you welcomed him with, Hyunjin felt nothing but uncertainty.
In any other situation, or with any other person, he would've been the one leading the way. He would've been at the comfort of his place, welcoming his guest the way he wished to be welcomed. He would direct the project, choose the idea he liked best, work diligently on it and call it a day.
But he was standing right in front of your apartment door, with his cheeks flushed and a timid grimace that resembled more awkwardness than a friendly smile.
“Huh?” he mumbled, barely audible for you.
“It’s 8:20,” you stepped away from the door and encouraged the brown-haired to come in. “I was waiting for you”.
Were you? Hyunjin lost track of the time that evening. He knew he got to your apartment at around 8, but he wasn’t conscious of the whole twenty minutes he spent getting ready to knock on your door.
“Sorry,” was all he could come up with. “Hi”.
“Hi,” you said back, closing the door right behind you and guiding your shy classmate across the small living room.
He seemed nosy, you could tell; his eyes widened as he discreetly scanned the whole space. There was not much to see though —when it came to room décor, you were more of a minimalist. Still, Hyunjin was curious because it was your place, he wasn’t particularly interested in appreciating the small details but imagining how you spent your afternoons resting there.
“So,” you sat down on the couch and grabbed your laptop from the coffee table, leaving space for Hyunjin to sit next to you. He seemed hesitant at first, debating on whether he should be close to you or not for his own good, but he didn’t want to make things any more awkward than they already were. “Any ideas?”
“Ideas?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, “for the project”.
To be truthfully honest, Hyunjin had plenty of ideas for the final assignment. But as he inhaled your fragrance, he completely forgot about every single one of them.
“I-” he hesitated. Silly enough, he was at the top of his class. In the midst of things, he felt overwhelmed —what if you expected a lot from him? “I guess I haven’t thought much about it”.
“Me neither,” you sighed, throwing your head back and against a cushion. “We have a long night ahead”.
“Wha- do you think we can get it done by tonight?” Hyunjin asked you. Of course, if the both of you worked hard and without any distractions, the final project could’ve been done in under 3 hours. Yet he had hope about another project meeting, luckily at his place.
“Maybe,” you closed your eyes and exhaled deeply.  
Hyunjin nodded silently and stared at you for a while, allowing himself to do so only because you had your eyes closed. Besides that time you were late and had to sit right next to him in freshman year, this was as close as Hyunjin had ever been to you.
He didn’t want to come off as a pervert, but it was hard not to stare at you. Of course, he wasn’t going to do it shamelessly —he respected you and the last thing he wanted was for you to think about him as a creep or feel uncomfortable hanging around him, but his own instincts betrayed him.
From the curvature of your lashes to your lips, then your neck, and a little down further, Hyunjin’s eyes fixed on your cleavage. Your clothes only revealed much, but that was perfect, it had him on edge.
“What?” Your voice caught him off guard and he quickly parted his gaze away from you.
“Huh?”
“I can feel you staring at me, Hyunjin,” you scoffed, still with your eyes closed.
“I am not,” he reassured you, shifting his position on the couch.
“Alright,” you sighed. “But I wouldn’t mind if you were”.
“I am not,” Hyunjin repeated and turned to face the small balcony next to him, pretending that the view outside the apartment was a thousand times more fulfilling than the one he had sitting next to him.
“Why do you not like me?” The question came out rather harshly, but far from intimidating him, it only made Hyunjin curious.
Up until that point, he thought it was pretty obvious —he was into you. He didn’t know you that much, but he didn’t need to; his lack of knowledge never stopped him from having wet dreams about you almost every single night.
“Why do you think that?”
You let out a soft scoff, turning to the side to face him. “You didn’t look happy when the professor paired us together”.
Well, that was true, but not for the reasons you thought.
“You seem outgoing with everyone, but you always look tense when I hang around you,” you continued rambling, feeling offended at the reminiscences of every time Hyunjin acted like a jerk around you. “Am I that annoying?”.
You were the farthest thing from annoying, but he couldn’t tell you that. Hyunjin wasn’t good at flirting or being sly around you, so being bluntly honest with you wasn’t an option unless he wanted to sound intense.
“Mh,” there was not much he could say, really. He knew it wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to try to convince you otherwise. It was best for you to think of him as someone distant and cold rather than a complete dumbass who fantasized about you almost every single day.
“See?” you barked. “You are not denying it”.
“I don't think you are annoying,” Hyunjin murmured, trying hard not to stumble upon his words. “I guess we just don't hang around that much”.
“Mh, is that so?” You tried hard to make eye contact with him, but it was useless. It seemed as if he was avoiding any kind of interaction with you, and that amused you as much as it bothered you. “I know you are lying because you can't even say such a thing while looking at me”.
“I don't think you are annoying,” Hyunjin repeated, tilting his head at you ever so slightly. He wasn't too fond of eye contact, let alone with you.
“Ah, come on,” with a soft groan, you cupped Hyunjin’s cheeks with one of your hands and forced him to look into your direction. “I don't believe you”.
His eyes widened slightly, and the skin underneath your palm started to feel warm with each second that passed.
“What?”
You were staring at him with doe eyes and, for a split second, Hyunjin felt anger at your naiveness. Were you really that oblivious to your own charms? Or did you just enjoy feeling like a predator hunting its prey? Either scenario made him feel pathetic.
If you were that naive, then that would mean that he is nothing more but a pathetic pervert that gets turned on by everything you do. But if you weren't, and instead were fully aware of the power you held over him, that would mean that you were just toying with him.
“I don't find you annoying,” Hyunjin murmured. “If I did, I wouldn't be here”.
“Well you came 20 minutes late and can't even engage in small talk,” you continued bickering, “it seems to me that you don't want to be here”.
At that point, Hyunjin understood you were just doing that to tease him —you were pushing all his buttons trying to get any kind of reaction from him. As far as he was concerned, that was much like you; according to your friends and classmates, you were a complete tease.
Hyunjin loved that about you as much as he hated it.
“I-I don’t know what you want me to say,” he stuttered. Your skin was burning against his, and he prayed for you to not notice the rising tint in his cheeks.
You smiled, still cupping both of his cheeks as if that small gesture wasn’t weird to perform on an almost stranger —still, you could tell he was nervous. “I’m just messing with you, Hwang,” you finally scoffed, letting go of the grip you had on his face.
You didn’t think he hated you, but his behavior was, in fact, odd around you. Hyunjin wasn’t the extroverted type, but you could tell there was a difference between how he engaged with everyone and you.
You weren’t the extroverted type either unless you had to  —that night, as he was quiet as usual, you had decided to try and lighten up the mood by teasing him. Perhaps it wasn’t the best way to start a conversation, but you just didn’t know any better.
“So,” you sat down properly on your space, moving away from him as he sensed the loss of your warmth, “project ideas”.
It was impressive how much power you held over Hyunjin and how indifferent he was to you —even he couldn’t begin to comprehend such a thing.
It was such a small, playful action; you had decided to make a suggestive joke, inviting him to look at you. Then, you touched him. Even if it wasn’t anything sexual, his body reacted in such a way —his skin got covered in goosebumps, his heart skipped a beat and the unpleasant pressure between his legs didn’t take long to appear.
That made him feel embarrassed.  
He wasn’t as experienced as others, nor had much going on in his sexual life, but there was something shameful in getting turned on that easily by someone he barely knew. Even worse, by someone who wasn’t doing anything to drive him to that place.
And then you changed the subject, so casually and quickly that it made him feel pathetic. You were back to thinking about project ideas and he was still frozen in its place, imagining that your touch was still there, that your gaze was still fixed in his, and that the following events weren’t as they had been.
You had moved from moment to moment so easily, yet he was still pressing the couch cushion against his lap trying for his growing bulge to go unnoticed.
“Hwang?”
“Huh?” Hyunjin blinked a few times before facing you, tilting his head ever so slightly as he tried to bring back anything from what you had said the past 2 minutes. Nothing, he was too busy thinking about how it was a mistake to wear a pair of sweatpants that evening.
You stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, “were you listening?”
He swallowed thickly and interrupted eye contact, turning to face the paper sheets scattered on the coffee table. Your eyes immediately fell down to the striped cushion which he cautiously held against his body, his hand pressing it just enough for his grip to look both rough and gentle at the same time.
“What was it?” Hyunjin shyly asked.
He expected you to start talking again like you had been doing ever since he got there, but you remained silent. Instead, you tilted your head at him, staring shamelessly at the object he seemed to be clinging to.
If there was one thing you were good at and he wasn’t, was bearing silence.
“I was- I kind of got lost in the middle,” he rambled, trying hard to hide his obvious nervousness. “You were saying something about, uh-”.
It seemed as if the only way you could make Hyunjin Hwang talk was by being quiet. The longer you stared at him, the more he talked —or tried to, better said.
“Hyunjin,” you interrupted, offering him the sweetest yet most taunting smile he had ever seen from you.
He was doomed.
By the way your eyes were lingering on the striped cushion and the corners of your lips raised in a mischievous smile, he knew you knew.
And in that split second, where your eyes met his tense body and flustered gaze, everything started to make sense.
“We don't need to have everything done by tonight,” you murmured with a flirting tone he wasn't oblivious to.
Prior to that day, Hyunjin had always stood out to you. It wasn't just his looks or physical appearance, but there was something inviting about him that, even then, you were trying to figure out.
You had a slight crush on him, but that wasn't saying much —every woman you knew had a thing for Hyunjin Hwang. He really wasn't the dating type, nor showed any interest in casual dates, yet you knew a fair amount of girls who would date him in a heartbeat.
But because of how uninterested he was about the women surrounding him, and how awkward he always seemed to get around you, you never thought of him as something more than just a pretty man.
“We should-,” he continued, avoiding your eyes who were practically begging for him to look at you, “discuss the id-”.
“Hyunjin,” you repeated, shifting your position on the couch so your body could face him. “Stop”.
His cheeks were flushed, his bottom lip was caught between his teeth and his gaze was slowly losing its spark. His eyes were no longer bright but dark —still, the characteristic softness of them never faded away.
“Are you okay?”
The question was innocent, but Hyunjin knew it hid something mischievous. Even so, he was hoping to be able to fool you.
“I think I just- need to go to the bathroom,” he murmured shyly, spreading his legs inconspicuously as he tried to fix his issue.
You glared at the striped cushion and then at him, trying to make him understand that you just couldn't be tricked.
“Is that so?” There was a teasing tone in your voice Hyunjin could pick up on well, but he chose to ignore it —instead, he was trying hard to believe his own lie.
But it was almost impossible; from the way your gaze was practically devouring him to the way your arm grazed against his ever so slightly, he just couldn't focus on anything else.
“Y-yes”.
“Right there,” you pointed at one of the doors and smiled when Hyunjin realized what he had put himself through.
In order to get to the bathroom, he would have to stand up from the couch. And by standing up, he would have to leave the striped cushion behind —otherwise it would've looked weird if he decided to walk along your living room while holding a cushion against his crotch.
“What is it?”
Hyunjin felt cornered. And humiliated.
“Think I'll just stay here,” he struggled, looking down at the object on his lap and avoiding your touch.
He was sure that if you were to cup his cheeks one more time or grab his arm in a playful manner, he would come right then in his pants. That's how much power you had over him.
“You are flushed,” just as if you had been reading his thoughts for the past fifteen minutes, you leaned forward to touch his forehead with your palm. “And you are burning, too”.
At that point, Hyunjin felt terrible. His cock twitched inside his pants as he felt your delicate touch on him again, and he was sure that his sweatpants had now a dark, wet patch on them.
All because of you.
“You were just fine when you got here though,” you were toying with him, and he could tell. “I wonder what happened”.
Hyunjin swallowed tickly once he felt your hand on his cheek and jaw, teasing the side of his neck only to return back to its original place at his forehead.
For a split second, he thought about going for it. But what exactly was he going for? His cock was hard in his pants and the whole moment just made him look pathetic. On top of that, he didn't trust you enough. Would you laugh at him and call him a pervert? Or would you like the idea that you can get him hard that easily?
“Come on,” you murmured, grabbing the cushion as soon as he let his guard down. He was too lost into his own thoughts that he only realized you had taken it away when it was already too late.
His hands flew to his crotch, but it was all useless.
The raise of one of your eyebrows let Hyunjin know he had lost a game he didn't even know he was playing in the first place. It seemed as if, from the moment he walked through your apartment door, your only mission was for him to drop that distant facade he thoroughly tried to build around you.
And oh, how you succeeded.
He stared at you for what felt like ages, his body leaning forward as he tried to hide his bulge. The worst part was that, even after being caught, his cock didn't soften, it was all quite the opposite.
“Hm,” you finally hummed, interrupting the awkward silence between the both of you. “I thought you were feeling ill”.
Truth was, he did feel ill. His head was spinning around, he felt dizzy, his heart was racing at a thousand miles per hour and his hands were sweating like never before. At some point, he felt as if he was going to faint.
But even then, when he knew you had caught him red-handed in the middle of possibly one of the most humiliating situations a man can ever be in, you just couldn't stop staring at him.
Your eyes were fixed on the silhouette of his bulge, his sweatpants only leaving much to the imagination. His hand reached out for the striped cushion yet again, establishing a physical barrier between you and what you were dying to see.
“I guess you were right,” you murmured after an awkward silence, still with your gaze placed on that specific spot. “You don't find me annoying”.
It was a subtle, amusing joke to lighten up the mood, but Hyunjin couldn't relax. All he could think of was your eyes analyzing every part of him, from his rosy cheeks to the stained gray sweatpants.
“I should probably- just, you know, I can get the project done on my own. I will just-,” he was rambling, again. It was really a pathetic move, but what else was he supposed to do? He had never felt as embarrassed.
“Do you like me?”
Hyunjin stared at you with both eyes open like plates. There was no point in asking that question, especially not after you caught him with a boner in the middle of just a college project.
“I mean, sexually,” you added.
He thought, wasn't it obvious? His cock always got rock hard whenever you were around. Whenever he jerked himself off, all he could think about was you. Even when he didn't want to, even when he tried to think about anyone but you, you were the only one he could think of as he came.
“I- you know, I'm just-”.
“It's a yes or no question, Hyunjinnie,” you taunted him.
God, how he hated that nickname. It made him feel pathetic, which was not too far from reality.
“No”.
A blatant lie. No matter how hard Hyunjin tried to pretend he didn't feel attracted towards you, his past actions could rat him out anytime. The amount of times he had jerked off to your instagram pictures, the countless occasions he got hard just from seeing you and the embarrassing moments in which your name had slipped from his lips every time he humped his pillow were enough proof that he was into you.
“No?” you asked him, incredulous.
He shook his head. “I- think we should just- focus on the assignment”.
It took Hyunjin all the courage within him to not run away from the scene, lock himself up in his apartment and drop out of college. He did want to run away from your apartment, though, but he couldn't —his whole body was frozen and he could only do as little as move his gaze over the scattered paper sheets in front of him.
“I am just trying to help you here,” you exhaled deeply, clearly upset about facing rejection from such a man.
You weren't expecting him to give in right away —you knew him fairly well, and considering how shy he was, it was pointless to hope for a little bit of initiative. Yet the thing that bothered you the most was how you could tell he wanted to, but kept on denying it and pretending he just wasn't interested.
“And I can't help you if you don't let me”.
Hyunjin fixed his eyes on the small coffee table in front of him, yet his gaze was lost. Everything felt too surreal, like a dream or something pulled out of his wildest fantasies —it was all too good to be true.
“What makes you think I need help?” he gulped while asking that question, as if the answer wasn't obvious. Still, he wanted to know if you two were at least on the same page.
“Mh,” you scoffed, changing your position to end up kneeling on the couch right next to him. “Do I really need to say it?”
Truth is, you didn't. If you did say those words, he would feel too humiliated. It was humiliating enough for him to have you knowing his filthy secret, so Hyunjin just couldn't imagine how overwhelmed he would feel if you were to say anything about the situation.
“You know, it is actually kind of funny,” you taunted. Now that he was sitting right next to you, with his cock hard and his cheeks tinted, Hyunjin’s image was everything but funny.
“I am guessing this is the reason behind you not being able to concentrate on this project,” your hand sneaking all the way to the striped cushion as you took it from his lap —this time around, he didn't stop you. “So I think it's funny”.
He couldn't wrap his head about your choice of words. Funny?
“How come?” he felt less pathetic then. Still as embarrassed, but at least the relief of knowing you didn't think of him as a pervert gave him just the tiniest bit of comfort.
“You are hard and I am wet,” you chuckled, wrapping your hands underneath his left arm. That, combined with the words coming out of your mouth, made Hyunjin’s cock twitch inside his sweatpants. “Had I not seen that, we would have spent hours working on this while being aroused”.
Now, that was too good to be true.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” your hands cupped his face with delicacy, forcing him towards you. “Given the circumstances, we can help each other out, right?”
There was something Hyunjin needed to know first, before agreeing to do whatever it was that you were suggesting. Perhaps it was his ego, or mere curiosity, but he couldn't hold the question back.
“Why were you wet?”
The short, obvious answer was because you were aroused. But you both knew he didn't want to hear that —he was more interested in knowing what caused it.
“Why do you think so?” you scoffed softly, dragging your hand along his arm until it reached his wrist. “You are here, and we are both alone so it was impossible for me not to think about stuff”.
“What kind of stuff?”
For better or for worse, Hyunjin lost his inhibitions slowly. Had you reacted differently than you did, he was sure things wouldn't have been the way they were.
“Too many questions,” you shook your head softly, guiding his wrist between your parted legs. “Why don't you tell me what made you hard?”
He repressed a moan as soon as his digits grazed against your core —even with your underwear and shorts on, he could feel how warm you were.
“You,” he simply responded, fixing his eyes on the way your hand wrapped around his wrist.
“Do I make you hard?”
Hyunjin was just applying a small amount of pressure on you, yet you felt the need to swallow thickly. Your gaze was lost in the veins of his arms and the way his hand got lost between your legs.
“Yes,” Hyunjin sighed, lifting his eyes slightly up until they met your parted lips. 
The fabric of his sweatpants outlined the shape of his bulge fine, and it was impossible not to clench at the image. There was a wet, small patch on them, and you were fighting the urges to release his cock and lick the tip of it to taste him.
“Does it happen often?” you softly cooed, tightening the grip on his wrist as his fingers started to touch you over your clothes.  
Always, Hyunjin thought, when you’re around and when you’re not. 
“I’m just curious,” you continued after a few seconds of silence, “it would be a huge compliment if it does”. 
“Would it?” he swallowed thickly, gaze fluttering between your eyes and lips. “Why?”
“You know,” you replied, followed by a sigh, “you ask a lot of questions for someone who hasn’t given a proper response to any of mine”. 
Hyunjin couldn’t argue with you on that. 
“So,” still with his hand between your parted legs, you switched your position on the couch to be closer to him. “I asked you, does it happen often?”
“Yes,” he didn’t think it through this time and gave you the shortest, most honest answer within him. If that was what you needed to answer all of his questions, then he was going to play along. “Much more than I want to admit”.
“Mh,” you sarcastically pouted, resting your hand on top of his thigh. The sudden contact made him flinch in the slightest, but you found it adorable. “Don’t be shy with me, we’re not that different”. 
If he hadn’t been biting his lower lip, he was sure a whimper would’ve escaped his lips as you squeezed his thigh, softly caressing it while you made your way to his crotch. 
Luckily for him, he was showing much more self-control than the one he thought he had.
“We’re not?”
“Well, you too have turned me on more times than I can count now,” you murmured with boldness, “Is that weird? We don’t even talk much”. 
It isn’t, Hyunjin thought to himself as a series of perverted memories flooded his mind.
Not that he would willingly share them with you. At least not right now.
“But you’re just too pretty,” a sighed escaped your lips while your hand finally wrapped around his bulge, stroking it ever so slightly on top of his clothes, “I can’t help myself”.
Hyunjin kicked his head back, resting it against the back of the sofa. His hand was still between your legs, and your hand was gripping the silhouette of his dick over his sweatpants.
It felt like something pulled out of his wildest fantasies, but he was overthinking it a lot. You were there, admittedly wet, and he was with you, painfully hard —it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, if you will, and he was about to waste it triumphantly.
“‘m sorry,” he squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing like you were hurting him albeit the soft grip you had on him, “I can’t”. 
You missed the warmth of his digits against you almost instantly, only to be replaced by his hand wrapping around your wrist. He fully intended to push your touch away —the faster he got your hands off of him, the faster he would forget how they felt. 
But his body betrayed him, and he could only do much as squeeze your wrist while you rubbed him off.
“Want me to stop?” You asked him, not knowing if you should continue, or just let the poor man go.
His body was stiff underneath your touch, but you could feel his cock twitching against your palm. It felt deliciously good, you could only fantasize about how much better it would feel inside of you.
“I don’t- I don’t know,” he simply responded, still with his eyes shut and his head kicked back. Hyunjin wanted to engrave the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, just as much as he wished to remember the sound of your breathing and the smell of your fragrance. “Fuck, I don’t know”.
Your eyes gleamed with the pride of coming up with a plan.
“Can I help you make up your mind?”
He blinked a couple of times, his hazy gaze barely focusing on you but your pair of hands that were dangerously close to the waist of his pants. 
“You can say no, of course,” you squeezed his thigh softly, and that drew his attention back to your face, the corners of your lips rising into a flirty smile, “but I wouldn't do that if I were you”.
All he offers you in return is a sweet, desperate nod. A short one, at that —he basically tilted his head at his crotch as a way of saying go ahead, but that was all you needed to move on.
You went from sitting right by him, to kneel in the space he had created between his legs.
His eyes were following every move of yours, and refused to abandon your image at any moment —painfully enough, Hyunjin looked so fucking good from this angle of view.
The tip of your digits grazed against the elastic of his sweatpants, lowering them along with his underwear just as little as your plan required. And as soon as your hand wrapped around his erection, Hyunjin swore he was going to die. Or come. Which to Hyunjin’s concern, was exactly the same. 
“W-wait, just, shit,” he didn’t wrap his hand around your wrist this time, but the conflict in his voice made you stop right on your tracks even before you got to do anything. “Wait, I’m not- I’m not that experienced, you know?”
“So?” You queried without bothering to hide the fact that the sudden confession perked you up a little.
“I just don’t want to embarrass myself,” Hyunjin exhaled, “which I probably already did, and I'm doing”. 
So it really wasn't that he didn't like you enough, or that he didn't want this just as much as you did.
“What’s the worst thing that can happen, anyway?” your hands were still gripping the base of his cock, teasing it against your lips as you spoke. 
“That I might come too fast,” he stuttered, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “You're not even doing anything and I can feel my cock throbbing like crazy”.
The filthy choice of words made your heart skip a beat —that, paired with the raspiness and deepness of his tone, only had you wishing he wouldn't shut up at all.
“So?” You repeated again, grinning with mischief. “I don’t mind if you come quick, as long as you can get hard for me again”.
Hyunjin let out a mixture between a moan and a grunt at your words, feeling visibly affected by them.
“If you keep saying stuff like that, I will come,” he inhaled sharply and swallowed thickly at the sight of your smile. 
“Just tell me where”. 
The small confidence Hyunjin built for himself after voicing out his concerns slowly faded away as soon as your tongue grazed against the tip of his cock —for a moment, he really thought he could hold up pretty well. But the sight of you as you made eye contact with him, while your tongue dragged along the side of his dick, was enough proof that he just couldn't stand a chance against his libido.
“Fuck,” he sighed, catching his lower lip between his teeth ever so slightly, “’m sorry”. 
At that, you cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry about what?” 
The kitten licks you were giving the tip of his cock didn't make things any easier for Hyunjin —the idea of putting together a whole sentence seemed impossible, and he knew if he were to talk in the middle of it he would just look pathetic.
“I don't mean to be this loud,” his hands were something between gripping the edge of the couch, and resting over his spread thighs; he was too focused on repressing the string of curses and moans that threatened to escape his lips. 
“But I want to hear you, Hyunjin,” you purred, stroking his dick against one of your cheeks.
The sight was to die for, quite literally —your lips were glistening with spit, just like your chin and now your cheek. Both of your hands were wrapped around his dick, and you just looked too cute despite the lewd setting you were in.
“I love it when you curse,” you encouraged him, leaving wet kisses along his shaft. “You sound so good, you know?”
The compliments were definitely getting to Hyunjin's head, and you could tell because little by little, he started to leave the awkwardness aside and get really immersed in the moment.
He seemed too afraid of screwing things up, for some reason. You, on the other hand, didn't think he could screw anything up at all —Hyunjin had always turned you by doing the bare minimum, and you wondered if he was well aware of that.
You knew he wasn't, otherwise he would've carried himself with a little more ego and pride than he did. 
"But you're a good boy, aren't you?" you continued, gently spitting on his cock to use it as lube. As you jerked him off, Hyunjin's hips instinctively bucked your palm. “You don’t curse, you don’t break rules, you don’t ever get loose…” 
“I’m not that- good,” Hyunjin hissed, biting down his lower lip. “I just- fuck".
He kicked his head back when he felt a delicious squeeze of your hands around his balls, interrupting whatever it was that he meant to say.
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” You asked, based on his reaction. 
Again, you squeezed his balls ever so slightly while the tip of your tongue swirls around the head of his cock. 
“I fucking love it”.
God, he sounded so good. So good when he cursed, when he moaned and when your name fell from his lips. Sensuality looked good on him, despite him not knowing jack shit about it. 
"I swear I've never wanted to taste someone so bad in my entire life," you giggled, letting out a hiss when you felt his hard dick throbbing between your hands, "want you to come in my mouth, I’ll swallow it".
You weren't his first —despite his awkwardness and lack of girlfriend history whatsoever, Hyunjin had a couple of experiences he could trail back to. 
But none of them came close to whatever it was that he was feeling right now.
“I’m close,” he warned you, his hands alternating between grabbing your head and your cheeks, “fuck- I’m so fucking close”.
Eagerly, you continued bopping your head up and down his length, jerking off with your hands the part that just couldn't fit in your mouth. Between your strokes and the way you squeezed and caressed his balls, you had Hyunjin coming in no time.
“Shit-” he whimpered, forcing your head down onto his cock until your nose hit his pubic bone. 
You weren't expecting him to make you deepthroat his cock, but you tried to take it like a champ nonetheless. All for him and his pleasure.
And honestly, he didn't mean to do that exactly. It was an instinct, something done in the heat of the moment, but he just couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed maybe a bit too much the sound and feeling of you gagging around his dick.
You had never seen someone looking this hot while coming —his cheeks were flushed, his eyebrows furrowed, his teeth were chewing at his bottom lip and his whole body was shaking and grinding ever so slightly against your mouth, hips raised against the couch while he chased his high.
It was a long high —he came so much down your throat, it eventually spilled out from the corners of your lips onto the length and base of his cock. 
Messy, but neither of you could begin to care.
“God,” Hyunjin exhaled, his whole body relaxing onto the couch after all the tension he had been carrying ever since got to your apartment. 
He let go of your face and you continued jerking him off with his own cum for a couple of seconds as your movements died down. 
“Did you- did you swallow it?”
Rather than giving him a response, you just stuck out your tongue —empty, clean, with just a small amount of him still in you. He tasted just like you imagined, and that did nothing more than to turn you on. 
“I told you,” you smiled, “I wanted to taste you”.
Hyunjin looked at you for a couple of seconds, blinking perplexed. His heart was still going at a thousand miles per hour, his head was spinning around your apartment and his cock was still as rock hard, despite having come just minutes ago.
And, impulsively, he leaned down to kiss you.
You were still on your knees between his legs, but he cupped your cheeks and practically forced you onto his lips. It was sloppy, and fast, but at the same time it was far from unpleasant. The feeling of his tongue against yours, tasting himself off of you, was enough to elicit a moan from the two of you. 
From one moment to another you were no longer kneeling between his legs, but laying down on the couch with your back against a soft cushion. Hyunjin was between kneeling and sitting right on top of you, with his hands on either side of your body.
“I want to taste you too,” he panted in between kisses, leaving a wet trail of them from your lips to your jaw, “want to make you feel real good, just like you did to me”. 
You were dying to fuck him, but you weren't going to reject it. More than one night you snuck your hand between your panties wishing it was Hyunjin's face and tongue, so you trembled in excitement at knowing that one of your fantasies was about to become true.
Or a couple of them.
“Please,” yours and Hyunjin’s hands lost no time in struggling you out of your bottoms, leaving them out of your rear of view. 
Embarrassingly for you, but luckily to Hyunjin, the fabric and color of your underwear did absolutely nothing to hide your wetness —stripping you out of it was a delight to him, who could catch a glimpse of your arousal sticking to your panties.
Carefully, he positioned himself somewhat flat against the couch with his face between your legs. Your back was slightly straight against the couch's arm rest, and your knees softly bent with your feet against the faux leather of it, so he hooked one of his hands under your thigh while the other caressed the side of your body.
“You’re so pretty,” Hyunjin whispered under his breath leaving a couple of shy kisses along your inner thighs. The slight contact of his breathing against your hot cunt made your back arched. “Pretty face, pretty pussy”. 
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
His half-lidded eyes looked up to you, “I've always thought you were the prettiest”.
He started off really slow, getting to know your body. You were desperate for more, for something messy and rough, but you allowed him to take his time. Even more so because it seemed though as if he was gaining confidence as he explored you, and you loved to see it.
“So good,” he groaned against your slit, “could eat you out for hours”. 
You wouldn't mind. He just looked too good buried in the heat between your legs, and his wet tongue felt heavenly against your clit and folds. 
After some time, his fingers came into the mix as well. Two digits stretching your cunt open, cautiously, while he kept on licking and sucking your clit.
“Right there Hyunjin,” you arched your back, gasping when his digits brushed against that spot. “Fuck, you just- shit, right there feels so fucking good”.
Seeing you like that, gasping and writhing underneath him, contributed a little to his ego. 
“Is it good?”
“Fucking perfect,” you cursed, rolling your hips against him, “can’t wait to feel your cock”.
Hyunjin knew that things were eventually leading up to sex, but it didn't feel real until you named it. Until you told him you wanted to feel him inside you, until you implied that it was only a matter of minutes before he got to enact his fantasies with you.
His hips grinded against the couch, too, as he ate you out. 
Needy to feel your warmth, desperate to give you all of his cum again.
“I want you to come first like this,” Hyunjin murmured, with his fingers buried in your pussy and his nose brushing ever so slightly against your swollen clit, “with my mouth and fingers. Then, I will make you come with my cock”.
You moaned at his words.
“It’s a promise?” 
“It’s a promise”. 
You kicked your head back against the couch’s arm rest, and arched your back when you felt the tension threatening to unravel down your lower abdomen.
His tongue was moving deliciously where you needed it, and his fingers never lost its pace and rhythm inside you.
“Hyunjin,” you chanted, latching your fingers onto his dark hair, “don’t stop”. 
Not that he was planning to.
“Are you going to come?” 
“Yes,” you nod frantically, moving your hips as much as his grip allowed you to. “So close Hyunjin, I’m so close”. 
Heavenly. 
His name falling from your lips felt right, just like it did your mouth around his cock and his tongue flat against your clit. You felt right, much more better than whatever he had been imagining the past years while masturbating on his own.
“Like that,” Hyunjin hissed, watching in awe the way your pussy and ass clenched at your orgasm. But as much as he wanted to enjoy the view, he also wanted to feel you getting wetter and wetter as you came, so he quickly returned to latch his mouth on your pussy and his eyes on you. 
“Shit!” your hips were bucking against his face frantically, almost aggressively. But he didn't stop, and elongated your high as much as he possibly could, “Can’t stop- fuck, can’t stop coming”. 
It felt like a never ending orgasm, one prompted by Hyunjin's lustful gaze —the more eye contact you made, the more aroused you felt.
“More, more Hyunjin,” you sounded desperate, and that made his dickthrob against the couch. He wanted to make you come again, and again, and until you no could no longer take it.
But he would be lying if he said he wasn't impatient for fucking you. 
“I’ll give you more,” he murmured, withdrawing from your body when you finally came down from your high. “But just- want to give it to you with my cock”. 
Whenever you thought about sex with Hyunjin, you always pictured yourself being on top. Maybe it was because of his shyness, or because you felt like you needed to take the initiative, but you almost always came at the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick.
Much to your surprise, he didn't lose time before positioning his body between your spread legs, not before removing his shirt and doing the same with yours as well.
He was going to fuck you in missionary, you figured. And you almost came at the realization of it.
Most men these days all they want is to get their dicks wet with minimal to no effort —Hyunjin was trying hard to please you, and that was alone much more satisfactory than any other experienced you had so far.
“I want to see your face when I'm fucking you," it was almost like he read your thoughts. Not that you had any complains, but quick fucks never cared for the intimacy sex entailed.
Hyunjin was different.
“Definitely not my best look,” you swallowed, thinking about your ruined make up and post-orgasm fucked out face. 
“I could come just by looking at you,” he confessed, eyes falling to your spread legs. “I swear”. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pumped his dick a few times before realizing that he was missing something.
“You uh-” he felt embarrassed, but he honestly didn’t think he would get to fuck you, out of all the people. He came to your apartment to work on a school project, not to get laid. “I don’t have a condom”. 
“Want to do it raw?”
He gulped.
Of course he wanted to. Using a condom was never part of his fantasies —shit, almost all his fantasies ended up with him filling you up, despite how risky that was. 
“I honestly want to, but I’d understand if you-”.
“Are you-”
“I’m on the pill,” you reassured him, “and I’m clean. I want you to fuck me raw if that’s what you want too”. 
“I do,” Hyunjin sighed, licking his lips at the thought of getting to really feel you. “Fuck, I do”. 
And despite the logical, rational part of him that insisted it probably wasn't the brightest idea ever, Hyunjin guided the tip of his cock against your clit. The sudden stimulation made your body jolt, but he didn't stay there for too long. 
His cock slid easily right inside, and the way your walls clenched around him as they got used to his size almost makes Hyunjin come.
“Finally,” you exhaled, closing your eyes while he bottomed out slowly.
Hyunjin groaned quietly, softly pressing your hips against his. 
“You’re so tight,” he gritted his teeth, “squeezing me just right”.
He hovered you, leaning down to kiss you yet again. He wasn't moving, just fully enjoying the way you felt wrapped around him.
He didn't know if he was going to have another chance to experience this, so he intended to memorize everything —from the way your tongue tasted, to the way your pussy clenched on him.
Only this time, the kiss wasn't as sloppy; it was intense, deep and it left you breathless. He kissed you ardently, brushing his tongue against yours, biting down your lower lip and pulling it ever so slightly.
“I’m going to-” he sighed in between kisses, “are you- alright?”
“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his hips, “fuck me already, Hyunjin”.
Slowly but surely, he started acquiring a pace of his own. And fuck, it felt delicious.
His pubic bone slammed against your clit, providing some stimulation; his cock reached the deepest spots inside you, and his mouth worked wonders on your neck and chest. 
It was unfair how perfect he was —so good at everything.
“Harder,” your hands reached out to cup his face, pressing your forehead against his. “Fuck me harder, please”.
He understood what you wanted.
Hyunjin didn't necessarily fucked you faster after you plea, no. He smacked his hips against yours roughly, going impossibly deeper into you. His pace was slow, but each thrust made you moan and gasp every time.
“There you go,” he murmured in a quiet, drowned groan.
You hid your face on the crook of his neck, sucking on his flesh meaning to leave red and purple blossoms all over it. For some reason, the idea of seeing him the next day at college campus and peeking to see the marks you left on him kind of excited you.
It was also going to remind you that this was real, and that it happened.
“Right there, Hyunjin,” you enjoyed the feeling of him ruthlessly pounding into you. He was sweet, gentle, and caring, but his movements weren't. He appeared to be someone innocent, but he wasn’t —at least not when he was fucking you good like he this.
“Feeling good?”
“Perfect,” you replied, “you’re so- hard inside me, you feel perfect”. 
The harshness of his thrusts suddenly died down as he regained his pace; they become hotter, more sensual. 
His eyes went from looking at you, to closing shut at times. He licked his lower lip constantly, alternating between chewing on it softly, too. 
When Hyunjin wasn't too focused on his overwhelming pleasure, he was focused on your body.
How it reacted, how sensitive it was, what things you liked. He kissed your chest and sucked on your hardened nipples, and he soon understood you loved it —at least judged by the way you clenched around his dick. 
He also realized he liked the feeling of your fingers latched onto his hair —he enjoyed when you pulled it a bit too roughly, and he didn't mind the pain of it.
“Can you come with me?” Hyunjin asked in between grunts. “I’m close- but I want you to come with me, come at the same time”. 
“I’m close too,” you sneaked a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit lazily. “Want to come with you, and feel you coming inside me”. 
It suddenly became much more intimate than you initially intended to —his eyes were glued to yours, saying way more than his words could ever do. You could see the lust, affection, and even perversion in his gaze; the longing of always staring from afar, but now getting to have you underneath him with your legs spread and your pussy around him.
It didn't take you any long to reach that sweet release you both had been chasing ever since he stepped a foot into your apartment.
“I’m coming,” you gasped, digging your nails onto the flesh of his shoulders and back, “come”. 
Hyunjin pressed his forehead against yours, and when he felt your walls clenching, he immediately released too. 
He didn’t want to think about his cum filling you up, nor the image of his arousal oozing out of your pretty pusy. He didn’t want to think too much about what you just let him do, and he didn’t want to think about the risk of it although it kind of turned him on.
A loud moan escaped his lips when he thrusted his cock harder into you, reaching yet another deep spot inside your walls. With each slam of his hips, he shot his orgasm painting you white from the inside. 
A warm, eerie feeling you hadn't experience before, because you just refused to fuck anyone raw.
But Hyunjin isn't just anyone.
“God,” he gulped loudly, panting and out of breath. 
You could feel his cum dripping out of you, despite his dick still filling you up, and you just couldn't believe how much he came twice in a row.
“Was it good?” your voice sounded exactly the same, hoarse and strained. You could barely breathe, but you didn’t care  —he collapsed on top of you carefully, without wanting to hurt you, and you both tried to stabilize your breathing together.
“Better than my imagination, that’s for sure”. 
You kissed his cheek and enjoyed the intimacy, wondering if the shy, awkward Hyunjin was going to make an appearance any time soon. In very little time you got to see a whole new side of him, just as shy but a lot less shallow than what you “knew” about him prior to that day, and you were still not ready to find out how things were going to be after this.
“I should probably- get something to clean you up,” you only realized how messy a creampie is when Hyunjin pulled out, making his cum to drip out of you and onto the couch. 
But you came up with a better plan.
“What if we take a shower?”
He looked at you, but soon diverted his gaze to the pile of unfinished work you had. 
“Come on, don’t get shy on me,” you pouted, sitting carefully on the couch right next to him. “I’m not getting shy it’s just-”, he makes a long pause and smiles to himself. A very faint, almost imperceptible grimace, but you caught on it, “I don’t think I can be naked around you without ending up fucking you again”. 
“Sounds like a win to me”.
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“I expected much more from the two of you,” Mr. Jung handed you the final essay you allegedly worked so hard on. Judged by the stern tone of his voice, and the deep exhalation your project partner let out, you can only assume it was a bad grade. “Not the greatest work you’ve had delivered”. 
Your gaze fell down in embarrassment, and Hyunjin cleared his throat, “we’re sorry. With the end of the semester we kind of- got distracted”. 
And if by distracted you mean fucking like animals at every chance you were alone, whether in a private or a public setting, then yes.You got so fucking distracted.
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thefreakandthehair · 4 months
Text
(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k
content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags
“My dad called.” 
Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 
It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 
Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 
Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 
“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 
“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 
Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 
“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 
“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 
His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.
“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 
He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 
But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.
“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”
Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 
“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 
“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 
Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 
He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 
It’s only then that Steve speaks. 
“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”
Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 
“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 
“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 
Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 
“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”
“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”
Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 
“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 
“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 
“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”
Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 
“Definitely.”
The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.
There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 
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princessmaybank · 2 months
Text
Wet Dream
Pairings: Bsf!JJ x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Talking in sleep, Perv!JJ, somno (?), non-con oral (f & m receiving), talk about p in v, kissing, hickies daddy kink, etc
Summary: You were having a wet dream in front of JJ.
Authors Note: I hope you like this one!
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Y/N was laying on the couch, peacefully sleeping while I played on my phone, sitting in the chair across from her. Everyone else had gone to bed already or went home. Y/N and I were spending the night but she was supposed to sleep in the bed.
"Jayj..." She must be awake now. "What's up?" I never looked up from my phone, I waited for a response but it never happened. I glanced at her and saw that her eyes were still shut. She must have just gone back to sleep.
"Mmm Jayj..." I looked back over to her, but nothing. I'm assuming I'm just hearing things, especially because the room was silent for another 10 minutes.
"Mm yeah right there..." My cheeks flushed. I didn't know what to do, I don't think she remembers that I'm here. When I moved my eyes back to her body, she was still sleeping. "Yesss, jus-just like that." Was she having a wet dream..?
Fuck this is the hottest thing I've seen in a long time. But she is my best friend I can't act upon this. "Mmm" She was moaning and making some beautiful sounds. "Jayj, stop teasing.." My heart burst and my dick sprung up. She was having a wet dream, and I was in it.
My hand slowly met my dick through my shorts. I couldn't help but palm at myself while I watched her face and listened to every word she said. "your tongue is cold..." She moaned. It's crazy how well she's forming these little thoughts, but I'm so glad she's able to. I stroked myself slowly through my pants and bit my lip.
At that moment I had a beautiful idea. Was it wrong? Yes. Did I care? Not really. I walked over to her spot on the couch and put my hand on her thigh, underneath the blanket. I rubbed up and down gently. Luckily I've been around Y/N before when she sleeps. She can be a very heavy sleeper. I'm praying that's how she is today.
I flipped the blanket off her legs so it would sit on her torso. My hand went to her pajama shorts and moved them to the side, that's when I realized, she wasn't wearing panties. That's even better.
I needed to see if she was going to wake up or not so I dipped my head between her legs and gave her a small kitten lick. "Mmmm" Her moan scared me but she's still asleep, so I think I'll be okay to continue. Who am I kidding? I would've continued regardless.
My head found its way between her legs again. I started slowly licking stripes up her cunt. After a few good licks, I stopped on her clit. My lips wrapped around the sensitive bud and I sucked on it.
A gasp escaped from her lips but her eyes were still closed. It wasn't until she put her hand in my hair and started pulling, that I realized she was awake. "Fuck yes-don't stop- please..." She dragged out. It was my mission to make her cum now. My middle and ring fingers found their way into her hole. "oh fuck" She almost yelled before I put some fingers from my other hand in her mouth to shush her. "Gotta be quiet *lick* don't wanna get caught Y/N/N" I realized just exactly what I was doing when I said her nickname, but I couldn't stop now.
I tried my best to keep her quiet while pushing my fingers in and out of her noisy ass pussy. "Fuck Jayj- I think I'm gonna cum-" She said and I couldn't be happier. I stuck my tongue in her hole and used the fingers that were in there, to rub her clit in fast circles.
She was wiggling and made little shrieking sounds, so I knew she was close. I fucked her with my tongue a little faster until I felt her warm liquid spill onto it. "oh jay...." she moaned as her hand tugged at my golden locks.
I kissed up and down the inside of her thighs. Once she came down from her high, she came back to reality and gasped. She shot up, fixed her shorts and hid her body under her blanket. Y/N was all balled up in the corner of the couch just staring at me. "What? Do I have something on my face?" I wiped the side of my mouth with my thumb, clearly being a smartass.
I dodged the pillow that was thrown at my head and let out a giggle. "That's not very nice to do, especially after I just made you cum." Her cheeks turned red. "What were you doing?!" She nearly screamed. "Shhh, don't yell, we don't wanna wake up JB and Sarah." I shushed her. "Why did you do that JJ?" She questioned quietly this time. "You were begging for it!" I said and quickly realized when I saw her face that what I said came out bad. "No no no! Not like that! You were legitimately begging me. I heard you moaning my name, and you looked so pretty...I-Im sorry.." My hands flew to my face, I felt like such an asshole.
The next thing I knew I felt someone tugging at my shorts. A pair of hands moved mine away from my eyes and made me pull down my cargo shorts. "What are you doing?" I asked almost like she did earlier. "I can't be the only one to cum Jayj. Since you already made this a thing, I'm gonna at least finish you off so we are even instead of us never talking to each other again."
"You think we'd never talk to each oth-" She cut me off by wrapping her lips around my tip and slowly swirling her tongue around it. "ohhh fuck.." I rested my hand on her head and I tilted mine back and bit my lip. I lightly pushed my hand down to make her start bobbing up and down. "Mmm faster baby.." I didn't care about the nickname right now, I'm sure I'll call her some other things soon. When I asked her to speed up she did, and fuck it felt amazing. "Just like that- fuck just like that..." Y/N was going even faster, and apparently she didn't care about making too much noise...or a mess. There was so much spit on my dick I couldn't fucking think straight. This was the best head I've ever received and I haven't even cum yet. Well, I was about to. She reached down with one hand and played with my balls while the other was stroking some of my length. Most of it was in her mouth but when she needed a moment to breathe her hand had no problem taking over. "I'm almost there, fuck don't stop." My head fell back again.
"Cum for me daddy.." She said which caused me to whip my head up as I came in her mouth. It caught me so off guard, but it did help me cum. I watched as she swallowed my load. My best friend just sucked my dick and swallowed my cum...what the fuck is happening. "Feel better Jay?" She asked innocently while retrieving some toilet paper from the bathroom to clean me up. "So much better."
About 30 minutes later we were cuddling on the couch, setting up a movie. I sat up and she straddled my lap. "I think we need to talk." She said putting her arms around my neck. "I couldn't agree more." I smiled back, placing my hands on her ass. "But that's for tomorrow, let's have fun tonight." Her lips met mine. We moaned into each other's mouths as she grinded her hips downwards onto my dick. "Someone's not satisfied with my impressive pussy eating skills?" I giggled. "It was very impressive from what I was awake for, and you'll have another chance to impress me with that tongue, but I wanna see what that dick is capable of..." My eyes widened, not only did she say I would have another chance, but she also wanted me to dick her down. FUCK YEAH!
"Just gonna sit there with those googly eyes, or are you gonna take me to the bedroom and show me what you're made of bestie?" She taunted.
I picked her up and entangled our tongues once again before walking us to the bedroom.
After I closed the door we heard a loud "THANK YOU" come from John B and Sarah.
"I guess we were a little loud baby." I giggled when I set her down on the bed and crawled between her legs. "Sorryyyy" "Never said it was a bad thing baby..next time we are home alone, I promise to make you scream for me." I smirked and started attacking her neck, leaving only hickies behind.
"You're my bestest best friend ever." She moaned out as I stuck my dick in her. "Stop friend-zoning me, especially while I'm fucking you." I pushed in harder waiting for her to respond. "Fine. Fuck me harder! Fuck me until my legs shake Jayj! I'm all yours daddy!" I stopped what I was doing because she called me that name again. "And that's why I don't call you that! Fuck me Jayj!" She teased. "Call me daddy again..it's fuckin hot." I said as I slapped her ass. "Stick your huge fucking cock in me and fuck the shit out of me...daddy.."
I did as she asked. By the end of the night we were tired, sweaty, and definitely more than just besties.
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murdrdocs · 1 year
Note
ethan and reader get into an argument which ends with makeup/possessive sex?
i never rlly write things like this so this is new for me :) GN!reader
in his head, ethan believed he was the cause of the argument. he was still a little upset at you, of course, but he believed, deep down, that he started it. the entire walk back to your apartment, he kept telling himself that he shouldn't have let the argument spiral like that. you walked a few paces ahead of him, enough to keep a distance, but remaining close enough to him. and the entire way back, he so desperately wanted to catch up to you and put his hand in yours. but the fear of rejection kept him behind you.
he thought about what he was going to say, and each addition he made, he scrapped. the only thing he knew he should say, is: "i'm sorry i yelled at you", because that's what he did. he yelled at you. in front of your friends. all because he felt like you were being distant.
which, you were. and you should be the one to say sorry. but ethan is so afraid of losing you, that he will do anything that he has to.
and those thoughts is what led him to standing in the middle of your empty living room, his head hung and his chest tight.
he didn't think you wanted to see him, but you'd left the door open and he took it as a sign to follow you inside.
you're not saying anything, and he's not saying anything, and the air is so tense and your eyes and nose stings and ethan's throat hurts and he opens his mouth.
"i'm sorry that i've been distant, ethan," you speak before him, your voice low and soft. he lifts his head abruptly to look at you, and the roles are reversed. your head is low, staring at your hands which are intertwined between your spread legs. "i got it in my head that you didn't um..." it takes you a second, "that you didn't like me anymore and i thought it would be best to break it off slowly."
"what?" ethan's approaching you, falling to his knees so that you're forced to look at him. "this whole walk here i was terrified that i would lose you." your eyes soften when he says your name. "i love you so much. and i'm so sorry that i yelled at you in front of the others. i'm sorry i embarrassed you. i shouldn't of done that."
your hands cup ethans cheeks and you pull his lips to yours. he hesitates for a second, but then he's kissing you back, his hands settling atop your knees.
when he slides his grip up from your knees to your hips, you sink to the floor with him, making you way to straddling his lap where you finally settle.
you kiss each other as if you're dangling over a fire, heating up more and more until the flame warms you too much and you burn. which then, you have no choice but to shed layers until the burning of skin against skin is felt.
ethan kisses down the column of your throat, mumbling apologies as he goes down. it's not until he's at your heart that he looks up at you. "i'm sorry," he says, pressing a long kiss atop where the vital organ lays.
your hands smooth over his silky hair, resting at the back of his head before sliding down onto his bare shoulders. the bare skin of your knees rub into the scratchy carpet, and you really wished the A/C was fixed in your apartment, but the only discomfort you truly feel is the feeling of being upset with ethan.
but as he stares up at you, it melts away. "it's okay, e." you kiss his forehead. "'m sorry, too."
and ethan finally, finally, lets himself sink into you.
you're atop him, lowering yourself, but once he's sheathed inside of you completely, you're nothing but mush, leaving ethan to do all the work.
no matter. he takes pride in it. his hips move more fluidly than they ever have before, backed by confidence and love and admiration. you feel each emotion in the hard thrusts that rock you up against the rug which rubs against your back.
ethan has a hand around your waist, the other bawled into a fist so his forearm can anchor him. his head is hung again, but not in shame this time. it's so he can rest his forehead against your chest, where he mumbles small praises and presses kisses into your skin.
again, your hand finds the back of his head. just to keep him extra close.
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aethon-recs · 4 months
Text
23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (One-Shot Edition)
Happy birthday to Tom! 🤍 Here's a round-up of some of the most interesting one-shots that I came across in 2023. I tried to include a broad range of tropes and themes and ratings, but I haven't read everything published on AO3 in the past year, so feel free to suggest any others in the comment section or in my ask box!
Criteria for this list: one- (or two-) shot, complete, published in 2023. Can be read in 1 sitting. The 2nd part of this list (23 longfics updated in 2023) coming soon. Happy reading!
*
23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — One-Shots
A Deathly Visit by @purplewitch156 (E, 7k, complete)
There once was a wizard who feared Death more than anything.
a dream is a wish by @funkyatheart (E, 5k, complete)
Harry is no stranger to wet dreams. Nightmares too, of course. They mingle, and blend together in all the wrong and most alluring ways.
A Total Absence of Light by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 8k, complete)
My name is Tom Riddle, and I am the Boy Who Lived. Something happened to turn Harry Potter into the Dark Lord, and I will do whatever it takes to learn his secrets. I don’t care that he killed my parents. I don't care that he stole my childhood. All I want is to earn the right to call myself his apprentice.
and you'll forget who i have been by @apodius (M, 3k, complete)
Tom hugs you, and for a second you relax. And then you feel a sting on your bicep through your shirt, and the world goes fuzzy.
Anniversary by @vdoshu (E, 4k, complete)
There’s a feather-light touch to Harry’s scar, one that lingers before trailing around the side of his face, coming to rest over his lower lip and tugging it slightly. Harry steels himself, then opens his eyes. “Hello, husband,” he says, facing Voldemort’s hungry gaze. “Happy anniversary.”
Apotheosis by @duplicitywrites (M, 7k, complete)
Growing up side by side with Harry Potter, beloved prophecy child, Draco learned two very important things: One, Voldemort was a god, terrifyingly monstrous and more powerful than any wizard on the planet. And two, Harry Potter was his.
Banish Me to the Garden of Eden by @contrarywiseizybel (M, 7k, complete)
Harry Potter had expected the green of the killing curse, not the red of a stunning spell. He couldn't have guessed that Voldemort would discover the truth first, and chose to trap his wayward horcrux. And in his new cage there is a very simple rule: behave and be rewarded, act out and be punished. He had been asked to die, never told to live.
Cicatrize by @noumena-writes (T, 5k, complete)
When hit with Voldemort's killing curse, Harry awakens in King's Cross. Only thing is, Dumbledore is not the one waiting for him there.
Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)
In which one of Voldemort's Horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.
Game On by penn_and_paige (T, 13k, complete)
Tom Riddle didn't pay attention to Harry Evans — that is, of course, until Evans tried to kill him.
haunt me, then by i_am_a_tree (M, 5k, complete)
"Death," Potter says, an inexplicable expression on his face that Voldemort instinctively does not like, “is quicker and easier than falling asleep."  Voldemort does not deign that statement with a reply.
Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)
“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.”
I'm Starving, Darling (Let me put my lips to something) by @winterdeath81 (E, 1k, complete)
Harry thought for a long time he didn't like kissing until he finds that he doesn't mind doing it with Voldemort.
Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)
Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.
it's kind of tripping me up babe, i've got it bad for you by @limonium-anemos (E, 3k, complete)
This could've been prevented if they were paying attention, Voldemort thinks. In which they get isekai'd into a cursed erotica book.
liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)
Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.
Love, Murder, Horcrux by @moontearpensfic (E, 8k, complete)
Tom makes Harry his Horcrux on the night of their wedding anniversary.
Ouroboros by @loneamaryllis (E, 5k, complete)
Red eyes followed Harrie wherever she was, in his class, in the Great Hall, walking down the corridors, out on the grounds. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, like scales sliding across her skin, cold, smooth, and prickling every defensive instinct she had.
Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)
Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—
Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k, complete)
In which Draco Malfoy is dead in the kitchen, Harry is regretting moving in with his boyfriend, and Tom has never been more in love.
Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 
Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.
That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites & @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete) 
Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.
The Boy With the Green Ribbon by @meles-merrivale (T, 6k, complete)
In another world, what Sirius Black finds when he sprints into Godric’s Hollow that Halloween night is bad enough. In this world, it’s so much worse. It’s James—his best friend, his soulmate, the rest of him—dead in the doorway, and vibrant, warm Lily cold on the carpet, and there, standing in his crib seeing things no infant should see, is little baby Harry. And next to him, lying on the crib mattress, is the baby’s screaming head.
Would You Still Love Me? by @chiocchi (M, comic/artwork, WIP)
"Harry, would you still love me if I was a snake?" Harry knows how this question works. No matter how deranged and unreasonable it is, he has to say yes. A notion he may come to regret once Tom's questions start to get darker and oddly specific.
*
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mahboimahboi · 8 months
Text
TEACHER'S PET x M!Reader (featuring Actor Mackenyu)
Smut (⚠️)
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"Yo, our P.E Teacher is so fucking capital H-O-T. Do you think he's married?" You nudged your seatmate, eyes lingering towards the instructor who was standing at the front while he wrote some very important notes on the whiteboard. 'Damn, even the marker look so small in his hand', you thought to yourself, too lost in your thought. It was never your intention to especially fall in love with a teacher, let alone someone who's really strict, but it was the way how he looks so above average than the rest of the teachers in the school. He's so out of this world and looked as though he came straight out of a comic book. Oh, and let's not forget the biceps and the strong arms. He's just so ethereal.
"That's what I've heard," You got snapped out of your trance and looked at your classmate confused. She sighs and stops from listening to the lesson for a minute and turns to you, knowing you were once again daydreaming about the instructor who's literally a whole lotta years older than you. "I mean, I've heard that he's a married man and has a child. So, if i were you, I'd stop sending heart eyes to him, unless you want to get fucking obliterated by his wife." She deadpanned.
"Oh, well—"
"Mr. L/N. Yes, I'd really be glad if you'd come visit me in my office after our class." Your instrutor said, fixing the glasses he had on, before he looks towards you and eyes you. "Don't think I haven't caught you not paying any attention to my class. All you did is disturb your classmate. I can't tolerate that." He let out with a deep, authoritative voice. It sent shivers down your spine and you swore you felt yourself go pale at the sight of his tiger eyes eyeing you down with anger.
"Y-Yes, sir Maeda." You stammered, not even daring to look at his eyes. With all the times he taught the class, this is the only time he called your attention out for not listening to the class. You are finally at the last strike. Only for this specific teacher, you wanted to be seen as a good student. One who studies and does well in class to impress your instructor, but all you ever did so far was to irritate the male. So much for a good impression. Embarrassed, you buried your head in your arms, wanting to just vanish.
Later, after your class session with Mr. Maeda ended, the instructor gestures with his eyes for you to follow him to his office. You did as you are told, hanging your head low, ashamed of yourself. Usually, Mr. Maeda would talk to you about important stuff, but now it is rather silent and... awkward. The rest of the walk was quiet, too much that it was deafening.
Once you both arrive at his office, he lets you in first, looking up at him only to see him raise a brow at you. You squeaked in fear and entered the room quickly, scared with what he had in plan for you. "Mr. L/N. Your attitude in class is getting out of hand." Mr. Maeda starts, his voice low as he puts his books on his table before sitting down his swivel chair. "It's quite disrespectful staring at your teacher with so much going on inside your head." Hearing those words, you hesitantly look up to see the adult male with a smirk on his handsome face. He tilts his head to the side, then stands up from his seat and slowly starts striding his way towards you. "Tell me, what goes on in your head during my class... Y/N?" His voice came out like a slither, a spell from a book that entranced you.
You swallowed the huge lump that formed in your throat, looking away from the male. The male scoffs, leaning on the edge of his table, now stood in front of you, crossing his arms. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Y/N. Haven't I taught you proper respect enough?" You stayed silent, but you could already feel yourself start to get hard. You subtly moved your hands to cover your erection that made an obvious tent on your pants. "Well, look who got excited." He mocked. "Y/N. While I'm asking nicely, answer me."
"I-It's... too absurd." You answered him, but the other male was unfazed.
"Well, I don't care how absurd it is." But then, a bright idea flickers in his head and a soft chuckle moves past his lips. "Alright, if you're afraid to tell me," He trailed off, moving towards you. He sat down beside you, enticingly spreading his legs open and whispering to your ear. "Why don't you show me?" His smirk grows wider, when he notices the red color on your face.
You covered your ears and moved away as far as you can from him. "S-Sir. I mustn't. You have a child and a wife. I can't simply—"
"Who told you that?" He asks you, his voice stern and sounded frustrated. You didn't say a word. "Y/N, I'm starting to get fucking bored." You started to think about it, whether or not you'd take the opportunity, but the fact that he never confirmed whether or not what you heard is true, scares you and it isn't just right.
In the end, it only took one forceful and lust-filled kiss that was initiated by Mackenyu who had one hand behind your neck. At first, shock was the only thing you felt, before the male started to feel you up and down your waist. This wasn't right. It didn't feel right at all, but why did it feel so good at the same time? You, soon melt into the kiss and start kissing him back lavishly, following the same rhythm.
Much to the male's surprise, he didn't know you were that easy of a prey and he was a predator, ready to eat the result of his hunt. Too high in the clouds and your head filled with lust, you made your way to ride on his thighs, being careful not to break the kiss. Mackenyu notices how you still looked a little hesitant. Wanting to help, he pulls away and puts his hands on both sides of your hips. "Listen, Y/N. Don't believe everything you've heard about me. You're getting too stiff for me to handle." You blushed at his words, then nodded your head in reply. "That's a good boy." He commented, before pushing his lips back to yours.
Your bottom felt a slight poke, catching your attention. You pulled away from the other male, watching you start to stroke him. "Whatever you want, doll." He smirks.
You got down to your knees, feeling the warmth he gave off. Hurriedly, you unzip the zipper to his pants only to realize that he wore no under garments underneath, turning you on even more. Due to his tight pants and the girth of his cock, the button pops off, almost hitting you on the forehead. "Oh my, sir. I've always imagined just how big you are." You stated, smirking proudly to yourself now that you've finally made a dream come true.
The male groans and puts his hand on top of your head as you desperately wrap your lips around his cock. Mackenyu lets out a breathy moan, pushing his head back as he lets you do your own thing. It felt good to know a person is very skilled with their mouth. "Fuck, doll. You're making me feel so good." He hums in pure bliss, standing up as he takes a hold of your head and starts fucking your mouth out with his dick, surprising you. Fortunately, you have trained yourself enough to get through a rough mouth-fucking, but the taller male's size is a lot larger than what you've thought. You took it good, though and it was enough for Mackenyu who looked like he was having the time of his life. "Holy shit. Fuck." He grunts, biting on his lip.
This went on for a few minutes, before his thrusts started to get sloppy, indicating that he was near his climax. He doesn't say a word or heads up, only shocking you when he buries his thick cock in your throat and finishes. "FUCK!" He moans out with his mouth left hanging open, convulsing in place.
He gives your mouth a few more thrusts to ride out his high, before pulling out and taking out spare pants from his drawer. "Haven't felt that good for so long, no rather, at all." He told you, yet you are still in a daze with what just happened, smiling to yourself. "I don't think you'd want this to be the first and last, right, Y/N?" He asks you in a sultry voice.
"No, sir." You let out making the teacher smirk in success. You pass out in his office room and the male lifts you into his arms and puts you down on a bench near his desk where you can rest comfortably.
"Good pet." He laughs softly, before he goes out of his office and moves to his next class.
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bettyfrommars · 1 year
Text
In the Closet
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
🚨18+ Only, MDNI, smut, oneshot, forced proximity, enemies to lovers, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (m receiving), cum shot, mention of alcohol consumption, smoking weed, semi-public sex, cum rag. Word count: 2k
You were invited to a surprise party for Steve Harrington, but so was Eddie Munson, and you really cannot stand him. But when you're forced to hide in a closet together, your resolve is tested.
A/N: I've been working on an Eddie series where the smut has not been introduced yet, and I needed to get my fix.
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It’s 1989 and there’s a surprise birthday party for Steve at the house he shares with Robin. You were invited, but so was Eddie “the freak” Munson, and just the thought of having to be in his orbit made you want to retract your RSVP. You’d been friends with Robin a while, and every time Eddie came to visit, he always reeked of weed and cigarettes, and he insisted on calling you Princess, even though you clearly hated the nickname. He was abrupt and juvenile, and god, did he even have a job besides selling drugs? And the music he listened to? You accidentally heard a W.A.S.P. song once months ago, and you were still upset about it.
His van was one of the last cars to pull up and park behind the garage, out of sight, and you went into the other room to mingle, hoping he wouldn’t approach you but still, he caught your eye across the room, lifting a can of beer can in greeting, a cigarette pressed between his lips. “Heyyyy Princess,” he beamed, as if he was mocking the fact that you were repulsed by him.
You headed down the hallway to use the bathroom, and once you washed your hands and were on the way back, Eddie Munson was there blocking your path. He pushed off the wall, a freshly lit joint in his hand, and extended it to you.
“You look like you need to relax.” His chest rose and he kicked his chin up so that the smoke from his lips would go over your head instead of in your face, a slight cough choking in his throat.
You grimaced and made a scene of waving the skunk smoke away with your hand. “I’m plenty relaxed, thank you,” you told him, but mostly it was to convince yourself. Eddie maintained eye contact with you as he put the cherry of the joint out on his palm and slipped the joint in his front pocket of his vest, as if he had only lit it for you.
But then the music in the living room cut out and Robin hissed, “shit! He’s early! Everyone hide!”
Crap.
You could hear Steve’s keys jangling in the front door as everyone found hiding places in the living room, and kitchen, but you were stuck in the hallway with Heady Eddie, and you were about to give the whole thing away because Steve was seconds from stepping into the hallway.
“In here!” You whispered through gritted teeth at Eddie, grabbing the back of his denim battle vest as he stood with a bewildered look on his face.
You whisked him into the small closet with you, pulling the door closed with the cautious precision someone would use to disarm a bomb.
Thank god Steve and Robin had just recently moved into this new house because the tiny closet only had three hanging shirts and two jackets in it. You could feel Steve’s footsteps clap down the hall, he stopped right in front of the closet and called Robin’s name, and you held your breath. The space you were trapped in was longer than it was deep and at first you didn’t realize you were pressing your back up against Eddie, and he was starting to like it.
“How long should we---” Eddie breathed in your ear, but your nerves were on edge, and you spun around, using the palms of your hands to pin his shoulders to the back wall of the closet.
“Shut up, Munson,” you hissed. It was dark in that confined space, and you could only see the outline of each other’s faces, but your lips were barely inches apart, your legs straddling his, and then his fingers started curling at your sides, pulling you closer, and your pussy started to blossom in ways you didn’t understand.
You gasped, “oh shit…” just before your mouth crashed onto his, teeth hitting first in your urgency, and then eager tongues searching deep. His hair fell into your face and smoothed it back behind his ear, your mouth never leaving his. You didn’t know what was happening; you were possessed. “Can I touch you?” Eddie whispered, aching to put his hand between your legs. You nodded, just as your hand slid down to palm his growing cock through his denim. You untucked his shirt from his jeans so that your hands could be on the warm skin of his stomach and his chest.
Out in the living room everyone yelled, “SURPRISE!” and jumped out from their respective hiding places, blowing party horns and turning up the music, while you and Eddie made frantic work of undoing each others belts, hands sliding down to fondle each other. Your pussy fluttered as his thick fingers curled in, bypassing your underwear to sink deep and then he moaned against your mouth, “you’re already so wet for me.”
“Shhhhh,” you said against his lips, but then you both giggled, caught off guard by the ridiculousness of it all. Eddie removed his hand from down your pants, wondering if maybe this was the cue to pull yourselves together and head out.
But you dropped to your knees, lifting up his shirt to kiss his salty stomach as you went, feeling your way around, along the map of his hair arrow, drifting down to darker waters. Eddie made a small mew sound in the back of his throat, throwing his head back with disbelief.
“Can I?” You perched there in a squat, waiting to know if he was just as caught up in the moment as you were.
“Um, yeah? Yesyesyes. You can have whatever you want, ghaaa,” he hissed, placing his hand on the top of your head so that he knew your location, feeling safer to speak as the party in the living room got louder.
You were fumbling around in such close proximity, that when you pulled Eddie’s boxers down the rest of the way, his unnervingly huge, curved cock sprang out and caught you in the face, juicing pre-cum onto your cheek.
“Sorry!” Eddie said, but then he couldn’t think about anything anymore because your soft lips were on the tip of his cock, your tongue flicking the underside ridge, your wet mouth taking him deep and making him shiver.
Eddie cursed himself for forgetting to jerk off that morning, because he was about to give you a bad impression. “I—I---do you want me to cum like that?”
You weren’t sure why, but the fact that he was already close after only minutes in the closet with you made a smile float your cheeks up, but then you were up on straight legs again, kissing him, thinking God, how could kissing Eddie Munson feel this good? His tongue was greedy and sweet and he made soft noises of pleasure when you did things that he liked. You slid your hands up over his shoulders to help him remove his jacket, and he threw it in the corner, his fingers quickly returning to arch up deep inside of you, metal rings clicking together, making you press your open mouth to his neck so that you wouldn’t cry out loud in pleasure.
Out in the rest of the house, alcohol was flowing, and all of the attention was on Steve, but a few people, especially Robin, did look around, wondering where the two of you got off to. She recalled seeing Eddie procure a freshly rolled joint as he sauntered around the corner, and she assumed the two of you were getting high somewhere. She’d never known you to do any recreational drugs before, but there was a first time for everything, and Eddie was a pretty persuasive guy.
“Inside me?” you begged against Eddie’s mouth, pushing your pants down further and pressing up against the clothing at the other end of the space, bracing on your forearms.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie muttered, mostly to himself, elated, holding onto your bare hips to line up with you. He ran the head of his cock down through your swollen lips, juicy and ready for him; oh god, you were so ready. He could smell the sweet tang of your arousal as it dripped down your inner thigh and you pushed your hips back to meet him, eagerly, his tip sinking in.
“Ohmygodohmygod...this is…you feel like heaven,” Eddie murmured on the wings of a sharp intake of breath, taking his time to enjoy the sensation of stretching you out, his feet planted on either side of your yours to secure you. He noticed you bring your hand down to swipe at your clit, and he sunk in all the way, aching for it as much as you were.
Soon, his hips were sawing, wet skin slapping as your two bodies connected, and you arched your head back as he buried himself deep inside, whimpering every so often and pausing suddenly as he tried not to cum too soon.
But, you were close now, working your hand between your legs, feeling the release mounting.
“EddieEddieEddie...I’m about to….” and then it happened, and the coil snapped. You trembled as your eyes rolled back, coating his cock with your cum, knees weak at the wave that overtook you. The gravity of the sneaky, impossible situation sinking you deeper into orgasm; white hot whips of a damn good, balls deep dick-down.
Eddie cursed, edging on the grip of a release that could possibly blow a hole through you, so he had to pull out with a broken cry, already missing you as his fist pumped ropes of cum onto your backside, twitching, “you feel too good baby girl.”
You felt some land as far up as your bra strap, your shirt pulled up around your neck, and he kept pumping, mining the mother load of sweet seed across your flesh. He braced his hand on the wall, his shoulders heaving, and then he patted your butt with a few tender taps, his throat dry, “goddamn, that was hot.”
The two of you didn’t exchange many words as you got dressed, but Eddie had a plain white undershirt on beneath his Metallica t-shirt, and so he used that to clean you up and wipe the cum off your back. You didn’t ask him to, he just started doing it, and you waited for him to finish, “I think I got it all,” he said, and then you pulled your pants up the rest of the way.
You were both beet red in the face when you finally opened the closet door, from exertion and from the dank stuffiness of the confined space. You went out first, and the plan was for Eddie to stay in the closet a few minutes longer, take the cum shirt back to his van, and then rejoin the party so that it wouldn’t look suspicious---so that no one would know what happened between the two of you.
You fixed your hair in the hallway and straightened your shoulders, ready to face the crowd, and deal with the apologies for disappearing on everyone like that. You took a few steps, and then your mind went to Eddie waiting in that hot closet, counting down, doing exactly what you told him to do, which was basically to save you the humiliation of letting people know you’d been with him. It had to be this way; a lot of your friends were at that party. People you knew from work and old classmates from high school who knew you as the Homecoming Princess. You couldn’t let them see you like this, with him.
You went to the end of the hallway, got Robin’s attention, and waved at her to let her know you were alive, and then made the decision to go back and wait for Eddie.
He was shocked to see you when he finally came out. His eyebrows pinched together, the cum shirt balled up in his hand. “What are are you doing here? I thought we--”
But then you stepped forward and kissed him, on the lips, gently, and took hold of his free hand, the one with all the big, metal rings, intertwining your fingers with his.
“We’ll go together,” you told him, catching the way his throat jerked at the sentiment, his eyes sparkling.
“Yeah?” He asked, unsure, squeezing your hand.
“Yeah.” You said, with the deepest sincerity.
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thewordypeach · 1 year
Text
Cherry Waves
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Cherry Waves
pairing: Paul Atreides x fem!reader word count: 9.2k warnings: fluffy smut. virginity. oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, vague mention of dom/sub, breeding kink?!?!?, etc. chubby reader, no use of y/n (however your name is daisy lol) summary: you consummate the arranged marriage to your new husband, paul atreides. author's note: this is my second story that i am posting! i've been working on this one for awhile now... absolutely adore Paul Atreides and Dune. watched both movies like 5 times and just finished up the book! waiting for the next one from the library :) also Timothée's hair in this film is just ungodly and totally unfair - like i don't know if i want to be his hair or have it?? anyways, it's fluff with smut or smut with fluff??? its cute and dirty. that is all. thank you for reading!!!!! addendum: 05/04/23 - this is picking up reads because of Dune 2 promo and i just wanted to let you know that it's poorly edited, and a sequel will be coming soon.
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For the first time since you landed on Caladan, the rain has finally stopped. And for the first time since you arrived, you are completely alone with him. Your husband. You haven’t spoken more than two words to him; you’ve been nothing but frightened for the last week, afraid of your new life on this new planet. You know you are going to have to accept this new life because you have no other choice. The other thing you are going to have to accept is him. 
Paul Atreides. 
You watch as he kneels before a delicate blossom, eyes fixed upon the intricate folds and hues of its magenta petals. His once sharp features have softened, the angles smoothed into an expression of wonder and reverence. You’ve seen this look of his before but can’t seem to place it. His slender fingers reach out and touch the velvety surface of the flower as if he were under its spell. His dark hair, wild and unkept, falls in loose waves around his face. 
While you can’t help but notice how breathtakingly handsome Paul is, it’s not his looks that initially drew you in, but rather it is his quiet intensity that captivated your attention. He turns and his green orbs take a quick scan of you. His eyes have always held a depth of knowledge and experience far beyond his years, and even now as he observes you, he knows something you don’t. 
“The flowers on Caladan are a wonder to behold,” He says tepidly, almost as if he’s afraid of scaring you away. He knows you’ve been on edge the last few days, practically jumping out of your skin every time he speaks to you. He straightens, his lean frame moving gracefully as he strides toward you. “Each one is so unique, with its own fragrance and beauty. Some are delicate and sweet, like the jasmine that grows near the waterfalls, while others are bold and robust, like the wild roses that climb the cliffs.” 
You are frozen in place, knees trembling beneath your skirt. Paul stops when he is in front of you, his body mere inches away. Those eyes of his, perfectly green like the forest that surrounds the two of you, sparkle with reverence. He’s been in disbelief at how strikingly beautiful you are and how you don’t even realize it. The thought of you not knowing your strength or beauty brings a sadness to him that he can’t shake; it brings forth a determination to help you see and understand your true worth.
Gently, he raises his hand and touches a finger to your temple, sweeping away a piece of black hair. Underneath the light, the strands of hair shimmer with a blue hue.  He moves his attention back to your face, “Caladan didn’t have daisies until you,” 
When it comes to you, Paul can’t help but be tender. He knows you’ve been through so much. He sees the turmoil etched upon your face; Paul is afraid your sadness and fright will be permanent, and he does not want to go forward if you are intimidated by him. The corners of his lips pull down, shaking as he confronts you, “I… I know that you are scared of me, Daisy,”
Your throat tightens. You aren’t scared of Paul but rather, you are scared of what lies ahead in your future with him. He’s the son of Duke Leto Atreides; Paul has responsibilities that you never dreamed of. Folding your arms around your body, you swallow dryly and think of what to say with careful consideration because you can tell that Paul is growing frustrated with your lack of reciprocity.
“My lord,” The way you regard him by his formal title makes his chest constrict. He does not want such formalities when it’s just the two of you but he bites back the urge to correct you. He impatiently awaits the rest of your words. Your eyes cast downward, afraid to look him in the eye as you confess, “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of the responsibilities that come with being your wife. I do not want to burden House Atreides.”
Concern floods Paul’s face and he is quick to shake his head. His brow knits together and he rushes to speak, the words tumbling out before he can think about what he’s saying, “Daisy, you need to understand that I didn’t choose this life either -”
He stops and inhales deeply to calm himself. Paul takes a step closer and the gap between your bodies narrows. Immediately, you can’t help but notice how his scent is a tantalizing combination of rain and a woody floral. It makes you think of safety. Paul drops his voice to a whisper, “I have responsibilities to House Atreides that I can’t simply ignore. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or that I won’t do everything in my power to protect you.” 
“You don’t even know me,” Your voice shakes with emotion. This isn’t how you address nobility but damn Paul’s title. His status brings forth an apprehension that claws inside your already rattled heart. You have known each other for less than ten days and yet here he is, declaring protection with everything he has. However, despite his best effort you still feel like a burden. He’s too young to feel like this - he has his entire life ahead of him and now? He has a wife to take care of. Your eyes snap up and you breathe out, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, any of this…”
Paul studies your face, sensing your doubts and your burdens. Your eyes remain clouded with fear and melancholy. Oh, how Paul yearns to alleviate your concerns and set your mind at ease, but he feels helpless in doing so. His father never taught him how to be a loving husband; Paul is only schooled in politics and the responsibilities of a Duke. Navigating the complexity of matrimony has never been part of his training.
“I understand that this might be difficult for you to understand,” He cups your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb. Paul realizes this is the most affectionate he’s ever been with someone and it breaks his heart knowing this is the first time you are on the receiving end. He silently vows to give you all the love he has. As he speaks, warmth radiates off his words, “You are not a burden, and you will never be a burden to me because we are in this together, Daisy. You are my family now. I promise we will figure this out, together.”
Tears swell in your eyes, “I’m sorry, m’lord -”
“Daisy,” He sharply cuts you off, “You don’t have to apologize - none of this is your fault, okay?”
Paul leans his forehead against yours, “We are a team now. You are my wife and I will do everything I can to protect you.”
You close your eyes, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. Paul is quick to wipe them away and much to your surprise, he kisses each of your eyelids. Your hands cling to his waist, suddenly desperate to keep him close. Paul notices the change and feels your urgency as if you are afraid of him slipping away. He responds by planting butterfly kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. More tears crash down and Paul sweeps them away. You can’t help but giggle at the valiant effort that your husband is making to make you feel better. 
The sound of your giggle makes Paul giddy and it causes his stomach to flip. He’s never felt like this before. His lips stretch into a smile as he continues to assault your beautiful face with endless amounts of affection. Paul stops for a brief moment, pulling away to see how your face has brightened. You look like sunshine now and it leaves him breathless.
Your eyes flutter open, wanting to see why your husband has stopped. Paul is peering at you with so much love and admiration that it makes your breath hitch inside your chest. You have never felt so safe and so adored. A look flickers across his verdant eyes and before you can say anything, Paul captures your lips with his.
Technically, this is not the first time he has kissed you but this kiss is exceptionally better than the one you were forced to share at the ceremony. This kiss felt natural and it felt right. There is a certain innocence to how he is applying soft pressure against your lips. Almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you. You want more, no, you need more. You can’t get enough and truth be told, neither can Paul. A desire ignites inside him and his stomach coils as something stirs inside his pants -
“Paul!”
The interruption causes you to jump but for Paul, the interruption of Gurney Halleck angers him. You are blushing at being caught in a compromising position, hiding your face against Paul’s chest as the future Duke turns to the weapon teacher. Annoyed, Paul scowls at the smirk on Gurney’s face. Gurney didn’t think Paul had it in him because truthfully, Gurney didn’t support the arranged marriage; he had his own misgivings and predictions about you. But upon seeing this revelation, Gurney’s opinion swiftly changed.
“My apologies for the interruption,” Gurney clears his throat, “My lord, may I remind you that your weapon’s master doesn’t like to be kept waiting…”
Paul glares at Gurney before turning his attention back to you, his face softening into that of a lovesick puppy. Your face is still pressing into his chest. Gently, he lifts your head and sweetly kisses your cheek, murmuring, “I will see you later, okay?”
Unwillingly, Paul tears himself away from you and stalks toward Gurney who is patiently waiting by the edge of the garden. Gurney, having known Paul since he was a wee little one, chuckles at the bulge in the young master’s pants. When Paul is close enough, Gurney leans over and mutters, “May I suggest a cold shower before training?” 
Paul’s face turns bright red upon realizing what Gurney is talking about.
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Throughout weapon training, Paul is distracted. His thoughts are consumed by you. Gurney notices and finds himself pushing the young boy harder, and harder. Paul mustn’t give in to thoughts of temptation. Gurney barks order after order, hitting Paul over and over until the boy is on the ground, huffing and puffing, sweat pouring down his face. 
A look of determination etches upon Paul’s face as he lifts himself from the ground, swinging his blade around and glaring at Gurney. Paul is about to lunge at his weapon’s trainer but Gurney makes the quick decision to draw the session to a close because it’s clear, they won’t get much farther than this. 
“Paul,” Gurney orders, raising his hand for the boy to halt, “That’s enough for today,”
“I’m not done yet,” Paul hisses, clutching the handle of his blade. He eyes as Gurney walks over to the table of weapons and begins to clean them, buffing the blade until it shines.
“Your skills are improving Paul,” Gurney says gruffly, “But there’s something else you need to learn if you want to be a good husband,” 
Paul looks at Gurney with a quizzical look, unsure of how being a husband has anything to do with a training session. The young master huffs, “What are you talking about, Gurney?” 
“What I mean, boy, is that being a good husband takes more than just sword skills,” Gurney replies, his tone serious. “You need to have control over your thoughts.”
Paul blushes, had it really been that obvious? He sheepishly admits, “I… I guess I was a bit distracted...”
“A bit?” Gurney guffaws, throwing his head back. Paul’s naivety is something else. He presses, “You spent two hours thinking of your wife - this type of distraction is unacceptable, young master Paul. What are you going to do when an enemy has overpowered you?”
“I have my shield -” Gurney is swift to penetrate the forcefield of an unsuspecting Paul. The defence shield vibrates at the intrusion causing Paul to stumble, his green eyes snap to his waist where the blade is hovering above his sweat-soaked shirt. Paul lets out a sigh of frustration, feeling like he has not only let himself down but Gurney as well.
Gurney scorns, “How many times have I told you? The defence shield is only -”
“As good as the person wielding the sword,” Paul finishes Gurney’s sentence. Gurney ignores Paul and continues with his speech, “Even the most powerful shield can be breached by a skilled warrior and no matter how advanced or sophisticated your shield technology is, if you can’t properly use your sword, you are vulnerable to an attack.”
Gurney sheathed his blade, eyeing Paul who looks defeated. Gurney lets out a exhale, “Paul, marriage is a lot like weapon training. You have to be willing to put in the work, to learn and grow together, and to be there for each other through thick and thin.”
Paul turns off his defence shield and runs his finger along the edge of the blade, fascinated by the vulnerability - one wrong move and he could cut himself, and bleed to death. Suddenly, the weight of being a husband falls on his shoulders and he thinks about the promise he made to protect you. He's liable for another person now and he wonders if he's even ready for the responsibility of having a wife. The young master mutters, “What happens if I can’t keep my promise of protecting her?”
Gurney furrows his brow and gives Paul a stern look, “Then you’ll have failed not only her, but yourself as well,” he says firmly, “A true warrior doesn’t waste time worrying about the what-ifs. Instead, focus on the task at hand and what you can do to prevent it. Train harder, study your enemy, and always be one step ahead. The best way to protect her is to be prepared for anything that comes your way and that means forcing yourself not to think frivolous thoughts about her,”
Paul grimly nods but Gurney sees the young boy hasn’t been convinced yet. Gurney feels for him; this is new territory and Paul has yet to find the best way to navigate it. Gurney continues, “As for your wife, you cannot be with her every moment of the day, but you can teach her to be just as skilled with the sword as you are.” 
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Paul hurries down the corridor of his family's castle, trying to get back to you as soon as possible. He is so excited to see your face that his stomach is churning with anticipation. He wants to hold you, touch you, kiss you. You are all he’s been thinking about and he is so close to seeing you again. Paul accelerates around the corner and nearly collides with his father, Duke Leto Atreides. Paul is caught off guard and he stumbles back.
Duke Leto regards his son with a knowing look as if he had been waiting for Paul. Leto watches as Paul straightens himself out, smoothing and adjusting the black tunic with the House of Atreides symbol on his chest. Paul suddenly feels nervous being in the presence of his father, he’s unsure of what to say or do. Paul waits for instruction. 
“Paul,” His father nods. Leto knew that Paul would be in this area of the castle because Gurney had already informed him. In fact, Gurney had also informed the Duke of the kiss that the young master and his lady shared in the garden - Gurney said it wasn’t just any kiss either. It was the kiss; the type of kiss that would’ve certainly led to something more had it not been for Paul’s strict training schedule. 
Leto is amused by his son’s red face which is impatient and restless. The Duke knows that Paul will not disobey his orders and decides his teachings in matrimony couldn't have come at a better time. He offers a smile to Paul, “Relax, son - Gurney told me you’d be here,” 
Paul clears his throat and nods, “Yes, my lord - can I help you with anything?” Paul is dreading the answer and finds himself becoming resentful toward the Duke because now, Paul has been delayed from seeing you. When the Duke gives a curt nod, Paul’s stomach drops - why did he have to be such a fool and ask such a question? 
“Yes, Paul. There is something you could help me with,” the Duke motions for Paul to follow him down the corridor of their castle. As they walk through the dimly lit castle, the glowglobes above them illuminate the towering walls made of rough-hewn gray stone. The Duke’s footsteps reverberate through the long, empty hall, echoing off the walls and filling the silent space. 
Leto thinks about how small Paul used to be and how it seems like it was only yesterday that Paul was running around the castle and playing pretend with all of his imaginary friends. He has grown into a tall, handsome young man but despite all of his training and teachings, Paul still has yet to master his stoicism. Leto notes how Paul's lips are pursed with muted animosity - his son is annoyed with him. The Duke is amused by this; he knows he is yet another barrier keeping Paul from his new wife.
As the Duke regards his son, he realizes that Gurney is right. Paul is completely smitten by you and those verdant eyes of his are pooled with so much love that it spills out. His infatuation with you is written across Paul's face. This is a side of his son that he has never seen before. It pleases him because originally, Leto was resistant to the arranged marriage brought on by the Padishah Emperor who insisted that Paul take one of his daughters from House Corrino.
The Duke knows that this type of look on royalty is frowned upon and that it may be seen as a weakness. But Leto cannot help but feel proud of his son for allowing himself to feel and express intense emotions. In a world where political alliances rule, it is a rare and precious thing to see someone unabashedly show love and affection. Leto thinks of his own reasons for not marrying his concubine, Lady Jessica, and does not wish for Paul to be burdened with the same regrets.
With a sense of determination, the Duke decides to do everything in his power to help Paul build a strong and loving relationship with you. Leto refrains from chastising his son about his open display of affection because he realizes that Paul needs guidance on other matters; matters attaining to the bedroom.
He knows Paul has received the talk about procreation but Leto is about to give his son advice on proper lovemaking. It's a topic he was unwilling to breach but Lady Jessica was insistent that it happens tonight as it's obvious the newlyweds will be consummating the marriage sooner than later; she gave her own advice to you earlier and now, it is the Duke's turn.
He takes a deep breath, carefully selecting his words. He doesn't want to scare Paul and begins imparting his knowledge with a casual statement, “Gurney informed me of your training session,” He pauses when he realizes that Paul isn't paying attention to him. However, the Duke presses on, “Paul, you’re a husband now. You have a wife - a beautiful wife -” 
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Paul interjects rather dreamily as a dazed look crosses his eyes. There he goes again, letting his love spill out. Leto realizes that he'll have to remind Paul about the importance of keeping his emotions in check but for now, it could wait.
"Yes, she is. And now that you're a husband, there are certain things you must do and certain things you must not do," Leto stops and turns to his son, watching as Paul's expression changes to that of confusion. "You are responsible for her happiness, her sadness - your actions will directly affect her well-being."
Paul slowly nods, taking in his father's words. Leto cocks his head to the side, asking, "Son, do you know how to keep your wife happy?"
The young master shakes his head and casts his gaze downward - no, he doesn't know how to keep you happy. And it's been plaguing him all day. It's what kept him distracted during weapon training. But when his father speaks again, it's not the type of advice he was expecting to hear: "Listen very carefully, Paul. I’m going to tell you the secret to keeping your wife happy -" 
Leto glances around, making sure that they were alone and just for added measure, he lowers his voice, “You’re going to kiss her lips, kiss her until you can’t breathe. And your hands, they’re going to touch her. Everywhere. Slowly at first, but with purpose...” 
Paul's face grows hot with discomfort and simply put, he's dumbfounded by these instructions; it takes him a minute to realize that his father is giving advice on foreplay. His cheeks burn crimson. He's hesitant, feeling like a fool for asking such a silly question, “How do I know if she likes it?”
"Oh, you'll know, son … you'll know," His father's eyes darken and it startles Paul. His father inches closer, his voice dropping to an even lower octave, “Your fingers and tongue are tools, they will aid you in making your wife happy."
This advice is the limit of the boundary Leto is willing to cross. He's unwilling to give any more as it is up to his son to learn that not every woman is the same and that what Lady Jessica likes might not be what Lady Daisy likes. Leto also doesn't want to scar his son with his own prowess because what he and Jessica do in their bedroom is none of Paul's business.
But of course, Paul can't help but wonder how his father knows such things and it quickly dawns on the young master that the Duke does these things with Paul’s mother - is this the reason for their happiness? The thought makes him feel uneasy and strange. He never thought sex could have such a profound effect on a relationship but it makes sense. Paul suddenly understands the gravity of his father's advice and the complexity it will bring to his own marriage; ultimately, Paul is frightened yet intrigued by the idea that his tongue and fingers will help him in the pursuit of your happiness.
Paul's brows knit together and he gazes down at his fingers, watching as he repetitively curls and uncurls them. He clarifies, "I can... I use them... on her?"
"Yes, Paul. Use them on your wife - and remember to listen to her. Nonverbal cues are still cues, her sighs and moans will tell you everything you need to know," His father sees Paul struggling to hold back the utter panic and he feels for the young boy who is about to become a man. Leto remembers feeling the same way when it came to bedding Lady Jessica for the first time. He places a reassuring hand on Paul's shoulder and adds: "The most important part is consent, Paul … remember, you have an entire lifetime to spend with her. Don't feel like you need to rush through it all tonight."
Paul nods, his throat tight and dry. The prospect of seeing you makes him anxious, and despite knowing that he desires you with every fibre of his being, he can’t shake off the uneasiness of being a disappointment. What if he can’t please you? What if he can’t perform? Will this make you love him less?
“Breathe, son. Breathe.” The Duke pats his son's shoulder and gives an encouraging smile, “You’ll do fine, Paul. I’ll see that a change is made for your weapon training session tomorrow and I’ll make sure that Gurney Halleck doesn’t bother the happy couple.” 
“Have a nice evening son, and be safe,” with that, Duke Leto Atreides departs, leaving Paul alone in the corridor to ponder on what lies ahead of him tonight.
The young master leans against the cool stone and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady himself. The weight of responsibility and expectations from both his father and his new wife weighs heavily on his conscience. Paul has to remind himself that he loves you and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. 
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The sound of the bedroom door opening startles you. Quickly, you stand. Hands trembling as they smooth out the cream-coloured negligee that adorns your body. It was a gift from Paul’s mother; she gave it to you earlier. It seems that gossip travels around the castle at an alarming rate because not even an hour after you and Paul were seen kissing in the garden, Lady Jessica was pulling you to the side for a little chat because she seems to think that tonight is the night that you finally consummate your marriage.
And she’s right because the moment Paul steps into the room, and closes the door behind him - locking it - you know exactly what is about to happen. Paul stands across from you, eyes blazing at the sight of you, drinking in your body. He’s wearing his usual black tunic. His wavy hair looks even more dishevelled than before. His cheeks are rosy. And once again, his eyes capture you and pull you into those pools of emerald. Every ounce of his love surrounds you and it spreads like wildfire across your body.
You can't believe that Paul Atreides is yours. He's so unbelievably handsome with his aquiline nose, his high-cheek bones, and his slender neck that tapers gracefully into his lean shoulders. He oozes noble lineage and the thought of providing Paul with an heir makes you giddy.
“My lord,” You finally speak. You give a curtsy, bowing your head in the process. Paul cringes; he hates when you call him by his formal title. He despises it. It makes his blood boil. He takes several long strides until he is standing in front of you. Paul places his fingers beneath your chin, lifting your head until your eyes meet his. 
For a moment, you look… frightened. But there’s something else hiding in those russet-coloured eyes of yours. Paul softens, he’s suddenly all too aware that he still has the remnants of distaste written across his face. “Daisy, please… when it’s just the two of us - Just you and me - call me Paul,”
It almost feels like treason disregarding his title but he doesn’t want such formalities with you. Never. Ever. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you nod, "Of course, my -"
You swallow his title and shakily breathe out, "Paul," his name sounds foreign as it leaves your lips. You feel … naughty calling him by his name. You don’t think you’ve ever regarded Paul as such, not even during your marriage vows did you call him just Paul. His name leaves your lips once more, “Paul,” 
The way you say his name makes him smile. He smiles so wide that his teeth make an appearance and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He softly replies, "Daisy,"
You return the smile and your eyes glisten with adoration as you and Paul regard each other with a newfound appreciation as if you're meeting him for the first time. It might as well be since the first few days were tumultuous, filled with uncertainty and a longing to be anywhere that wasn't Caladan. But now, all you want to be is with him. 
Paul can't help himself anymore and gives into temptation, his eyes glancing down at the negligee your body is adorned with. It’s a bit tight and it leaves almost nothing to the imagination; he's able to see the colour of your flesh through the transparent silk. His eyes linger on the imprints of your breasts as they poke through the fabric but what really intrigues Paul is the secret that lies between your thighs. Paul notices the strap of your negligee has started to slip down your shoulder and he reaches up to adjust it, his fingers gently brushing against your collarbone as he does so.
Immediately, he notices that the simple touch has caused goosebumps to explode across the surface of your skin followed by a tinge of red. Paul is fascinated by this change and wonders what other reactions you have in store for him. Meanwhile, you're growing impatient with him. You wish he'd just kiss you already because you miss the feeling of his lips against yours. But he doesn't and unbeknownst to you, Paul is planning to take his sweet time. 
Paul steps back, unbuttoning the top of his tunic. He's never gotten used to the tightness of his uniform and he lets out a sigh of relief. His eyes briefly glance at you standing there. You look annoyed by his actions and this amuses him.
You begin to shift on the balls of your heels, teeth biting into your lower lip as you think ‘patience is a virtue’. Paul has had a long day of weapons training and royal responsibilities. Surely, he is tired. But you have also waited all day for him and waiting a few more minutes sounds torturous - maybe if you ask him to kiss you, he'll listen.
"Please, Paul..." Your voice comes out whinier than intended. You feel embarrassed but it's Paul's reaction to your petulance that makes the pink colour in your cheeks deepen into crimson.
He pauses, a single eyebrow of his raising as his lips lift into a playful smirk. "Please, what, Daisy?"
Paul watches you through those thick, dark eyelashes of his. He waits for your answer and what you're unaware of is that he has enough patience to wait forever. After all, he is the son of a duke. Since birth, he's been taught to endure and persevere. 
“I-I…” You stutter, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the look clouding over in Paul’s verdant eyes. It causes an unfamiliar feeling to stir inside you and your thoughts quickly become a jumbled, incoherent mess. But thankfully, what you can recall is Lady Jessica’s advice: if you can’t tell him, show him. 
Slowly, you walk forward with Paul watching your every move. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the button of his tunic, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. As you unbutton his tunic, you quietly inquire, “How was your weapons training?”
Your question brings a sense of closeness that you’ve never experienced before. But truth be told, you don’t care about his weapon training. You just think it’ll help speed things up a bit. But Paul is distracted. His gaze lingers on your face; he’s admiring the smattering of freckles that dance along the bridge of your nose. You glance at him and see that his lips are still curved into an adoring smile. It makes your heart swell. 
Paul finally answers your question but his words fall on deaf ears because your mind is distracted by the sight of his lean waist. You find yourself growing envious of his body and begin to feel insecure because there is no denying the fact that your body is fuller than his, your bits fleshy and pudgy. Of course, Paul sees the change in your face and at first, he’s confused. But as he watches your eyes studying his body, particularly his perfectly flat stomach, he realizes what is bothering you. 
"Oh, Daisy..." He coos. His voice breaks through your thoughts and you look at him, puzzled. Paul tilts his head to the side and traces his finger along your rotund jawline. Truth be told, he adores the ampleness of your body. He’s been admiring your curves for days and now, he finally has the opportunity to touch them. Paul is filled with the utmost delight at the prospect of being smothered by you body that’s bigger than his. 
It is this exact thought that unleashes Paul from his restraints and he leans down, capturing your lips with his. You sigh happily and instantly forget about your jealousy. You relish the feeling of his supple lips pressing against yours - finally. He places a hand on the nape of your neck and the other on your hip, fingers digging into your thick flesh. He eagerly presses his body against yours, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.
This kiss is different than the one in the garden. It's urgent. Needy. Paul is eager for more and he deepens it by swiping his tongue against your bottom lip. Your mouth opens - you've never been kissed like this before and at first, you're timid. Unsure of what to do. But Paul seems to be just as lost as you are. It doesn't stop either of you from trying.
Time blurs and for several minutes, it's nothing but a kindling mess of trembling hands and soft, wet noises. There is no rhythm and there is no tempo. Paul is sucking your tongue into his mouth and next, you're nipping at his lower lip; he growls when you do so. The growl reverberates through your body and dissolves into a heavy pleasure that presses down into your core. 
Your lungs are desperate for fresh air and reluctantly, you separate. Your chest heaves against Paul’s and you gaze at him, noting how his eyes are still closed, lost in the throes of passion. His lips are swollen, bee-stung. Your lips are swollen too. Paul begins to run his hands up and down your back, his feathery touch tickles and you giggle softly at the sensation. His eyes snap open, verdant eyes flickering with burning desire. 
“Do you want to lie down?” His voice is low-pitched but clear, his intentions are polite and sincere. He'll never stop being a duke even during the most intimate of times. He presses his forehead against yours, patiently waiting for an answer. 
"Yes," Your voice shakes. He takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Tension begins to simmer beneath the surface and it causes your throat to dry up, making it difficult to speak. Those pesky nerves have come back and you wish they hadn't because you were having so much fun before -
“Are you okay?” Paul asks lowering your body down first before sliding his body next to yours. Your stomach is violently fluttering and you can only nod in response. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating.
Paul can just tell by wavering doubt on your face that you’re not okay. He peers at you, his face full of concern. He speaks, “Tell me you’re okay, Daisy,”
You swallow dryly and nod for a second time. Your fingers are gripping his arm because you are afraid that if you let go, he might disappear. It takes you another minute to gather yourself.
“I’m o-okay,” Breathlessly, you repeat, “I’m okay,”
This time it's Paul’s turn to nod. His lips turn into a soft, reassuring smile. He tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and addresses your concerns, “We don’t have to do this - we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,”
Your heart tumbles over its own rhythm and you quickly shake your head. You want this - you want him. You want him to penetrate you with the bulge that has been steadily growing in his pants. You whisper, “But… but what if I do want it?”
He bites into his growing smile, trying to hide his excitement. He’s thrilled that you feel the same way and he loves hearing you speak. He wishes that you’d do it more and he knows in time that you will. As his father said, Paul has an entire lifetime to spend with you. 
“Make love to me, Paul…” Your confession is quiet. Barely audible. Paul is unsure if he has even heard you but at the sight of your blushing cheeks, he knows that he wasn’t dreaming. You are silently pleading that he feels the way because if he doesn’t, you might just perish from embarrassment. 
Paul pauses to watch the look of yearning etch itself across your face. You start to shift beneath the intensity of his gaze, your eyes dropping down. That’s when Paul feels your hands moving down his body. Your fingers latch onto his trousers, attempting to unbutton them but you’re having trouble, and it’s making you flustered. 
Paul is loving every second of it. He enjoys how your brows have furrowed in concentration and he particularly likes the frustration growing on your face. You bite your lower lip and impatiently huff as you give up. You realize he’s been watching you this entire time and your eyes snap to his. You glare at the coltish expression on his face. Paul finds your exasperation endearing. 
You bury your face into his arm, mumbling, “Paul, make love to me…”
Blood rushes through his body and goes straight down to the bulge straining against his trousers. He loves your wantonness and he wants to hear you beg for it again. He pulls your face away from his skin, eyes devouring you. As he holds your chin between his hands, Paul demands, “Say it again,”
You can’t help but glare again at him. He knows you won’t disobey. You speak, voice clipped with precise ardency, “Paul Atreides, my lord, will you please fuck me?” 
The mixture of his full name and his title sends his blood into a frenzy. If he was already turned on before, then what’s happening to his body now? One thing for sure is that you don’t have to ask again because, within a minute, Paul has hastily thrown off his trousers and he’s now completely naked. 
Your eyes, well… your eyes are instantly locked onto the appendage between your husband’s thighs. Of course, you have seen what a phallus looks like in art and in scientific videos. But in comparison to Paul’s, those examples were tiny and they definitely did not prepare you for the real thing. 
His cock is so engorged and so pink, the tip of it glistening with some sort of secretion. As he moves his body back down to the bed, his cock twitches and bobs. He sees your fascination and watches how you are practically salivating over his well-endowed gift. Your core squirms with anticipation and your thighs involuntarily flex at the thought of him being inside you.
“Do you want to touch it?” His voice is timid, hesitating to request such a thing from his innocent wife but he’s held back long enough. Paul is so sure that he’s going to burst at any second - he watches as you reach out, hand faltering at second thoughts. Paul inhales sharply, “Touch me, Daisy, please…”
When your fingers brush against the tip of his cock, he shudders and his stomach constricts causing his cock to quiver. You quickly look up at him, wondering if you had hurt him but it’s clear you haven’t. He has an intense but dazed look on his face and he’s biting down on his lower lip, restraining himself. Paul is holding himself back and persevering through the pure torture you’re currently putting him through.
You wonder what’ll happen if you firmly grasp his cock, so your hand wraps around his girthy shaft and a throaty groan escapes from deep inside Paul’s body. His reaction pleases you and slowly, you continue to drag your hand down until it rests against the furry tufts on the base of his cock. 
You notice how Paul’s chest is heaving and he’s pressing his body into the mattress, hands gripping the sheets, knuckles almost turning white. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, pleading for more but you’re taking your time, exploring his body, finding ways to incite reactions from him. You know he’s enjoying your hand gliding up and down his cock but what if… what if you were to taste him? You readjust your body so that you’re sitting with your mouth hovering over his cock.
“Daisy, what’re you…” Paul says, his voice deeper than usual. You lick the tip of his cock, tasting the pearly secretion that has been leaking out. Paul gasps, swearing under his breath. You lick his cock again and once more, Paul reacts with a throaty gasp. You’ve overpowered him with one simple move and now he’s yours. It is at this moment that Paul realizes he is supposed to be listening to your sighs and moans but instead, you’re listening to his. 
He watches as you thoroughly lick the tip of his cock. The sensation is immaculate and he’s struggling to remain cool and composed. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re doing but you’re enjoying the smoothness and warmth of his arousal. You seal your lips around him and slowly, very tentatively, lower your mouth down. Paul groans loudly and his hand finds the back of your head, his fingers gripping your hair so that it’s not in the way of his view. 
The sight of you, mouth full of his throbbing cock, practically sends him over the edge. He has to restrain himself by closing his eyes and silently begging that he doesn’t ejaculate - he can’t. Not yet. He’s trying to convince himself that it’s your turn to be pleasured but when his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag and the sound makes him completely forget everything. His eyes snap open, watching as you bring your mouth back up, leaving a trail of spit pooling down his cock. 
“D-Da-Daisy,” Paul sputters out, completely out of breath. You ignore him, dragging both your hands along his quivering cock. He struggles to find his words but when he does, he orders, “Stop,”
He grabs your hands and pulls them off his body. Shocked, you look at him. He looks like a man who has just been to hell and back. His hair is beyond dishevelment, strands of it sticking to his damp forehead. His eyes are wild, his once verdant eyes have been taken over by expanded pupils that have blackened out any colour.  
Before you can ask what you did wrong, Paul is tugging off the negligee and exposing your naked body to him for the first time. His eyes sweep over every nook and cranny, noting every bulge of abundance. He’s taking inventory, marking his favourite areas. He’s particularly drawn to your breasts and how they swell against your chest, gravity pulling down the pillows of dough. They look rather heavy to Paul and he just has to reach up to grasp them. God, they’re so soft and perfect. He’s quick to lower his mouth, latching it onto your perky nipple. The sensation of his tongue swiping over the sensitive bud makes you gasp, “Paul,”
He grins against your skin and can’t help himself, he just has to nibble at the fleshy softness of your chest, which causes you to gasp. Your hand grabs the back of Paul’s head, fingers kneading through his hair, locking him there because your breasts absolutely love the attention. Meanwhile, Paul feels like he is in heaven, sighing happily as little noises continue to escape from your mouth. 
Simply put, he can’t get enough of you. He licks and sucks your breasts as if they were ripe fruits, his tongue sweet and rough against the sensitive flesh. He alternates between too much and not enough, which creates a perplexed feeling between your hips, right in the crest of your crotch. It’s vague, incomplete. You have never felt such a thing before tonight. You flex your thighs, hoping that you can rid yourself of the unnatural feeling. 
With his mouth still attached to your breast, Paul takes his hand and plants it on the inside of your thigh. This movement doesn’t help the unnatural feeling that has been steadily growing and you squirm, hoping Paul doesn’t notice. Of course, he does and he detaches himself to peer at you. He loves how pink and splotchy your cheeks have gotten, and he loves how your eyes have narrowed into a lusty squint. 
Testing you, he drags his fingers upward. His cock throbs at how saturated your thighs have gotten. He doesn’t even think you’re aware of the wetness seeping from your flower and he cups your fuzzy mound, which causes you to squeal in surprise. The sudden intrusion is too much and you’re squirming out of his grasp. Paul is quick and wraps his other arm around your body. He’s strong enough to hold you, keeping you locked against him. 
With his voice barely above a whisper, Paul asks, “Can I?”
You swallow hard. You desperately want him to touch you down there but you’re terrified of what might happen because you heard that unnatural things can occur. Paul senses your worry and feels your hesitation, and immediately takes his hand away - consent is the most important thing. You can’t help but notice how your pussy suddenly feels lonely now…
However, those thoughts are quickly pushed away because Paul pulls your body down with his, your chest colliding with his as he lies underneath you. You feel like you’re crushing him and for a third time, you begin to squirm. 
“Daisy,” His grip tightens. You stop squirming and sheepishly glance up at him. He’s gazing at you, with so much love and adoration, that it makes your breathing hitch inside your throat. Paul whispers, “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
The compliment makes you blush, your skin reddening even more. You confess, “I’m not a woman yet -”
“Yet,” Paul interjects and shifts so that your body is lying next to his. He kisses your temple, “Lay back and relax, I’m going to try something…” 
You’re reluctant for Paul to see such an intimate part of you. He pleads, eyes begging for a chance. He murmurs, “Just trust me, okay?”
His words make you reconsider. You decide to trust your husband and you lay down, inhaling to calm yourself. But the moment Paul places his hands on your legs, your heart rate spikes and rattles against your chest. As he spreads you open, he looks at your flower with reverence. It’s so puffy, so pink and so wet that it glistens beneath the glowglobes. 
He positions his body between your thighs, his cock rubs against the inner flesh, and you shudder at the sensation. He looks at you, worried. You shake your head, “Paul, I need you…”
At your request, he is so quick to touch you. His finger slides along your folds. You suck in and bite down on your lower lip, holding back. But Paul yearns to hear you, and he does it again, repeating the movement. A small groan escapes and it’s all the encouragement that he needs. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you see that he is in deep concentration, studying as your hips jerk when he presses his palm against a sensitive little nub that’s hiding between your petals. As he does it again, your mouth goes slack and a moan slips out. He begins to circle it with determination, knowing this must be the spot. 
There’s a liquid heat pooling in your core and the more pressure he adds, the less you can take it. You are back to squirming beneath his touch, gasping and groaning at the pressure building inside. It’s such a foreign feeling - you feel like you’re going to burst open. You feel scared about what might happen. You want Paul to stop, yet you don’t. Everything is so conflicting and your throat is parched, and you want your husband to look at you. But Paul is so engrossed in what he’s doing - he’s absolutely fascinated at the stickiness that seeps through your magnificent folds. 
Unable to take much more, you reach down and grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. At first, he’s baffled. He was so sure that you were enjoying his hard work -  your eyes are hungry, having not been satiated yet. The look sends a chill down his spine and when you whimper, his cock twitches. 
If he wants to make you a woman, it needs to happen now. You whimper again, “Paul, I need you … I need you inside of me,”
“Are … are you sure, Daisy?” He asks, eyes glazing over. You nod and reach up to caress his cheek. Paul is so unbelievably sweet. He begins to trail kisses along your stomach, tongue dipping into your belly button causing you to throw your head back into the pillow. He grins wolfishly and continues marking his territory, relentlessly teasing you until you are nothing but a wet, blubbering mess.
Finally, after a lifetime has passed, Paul sweetly kisses your lips and his cock brushes against your swollen labia. The first meeting. Wetness against wetness. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his shoulders down into your body. Paul steadies himself, his chest puffing out with excitement as he lines the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Fuck,” He hisses. Paul knows it’s going to be a tight fit and he’s worried about hurting you. He plants a tender kiss against your jaw, whispering, “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” 
You nod, shutting your eyes and moaning out as his cock begins to nudge inside. It’s definitely a little too large for comfort and your body is resisting - you have to order yourself to relax. And when he’s finally pushed past, there’s a popping sensation. It’s quick and it hurts, pain shooting through your pelvis. You wince. 
Paul notices and stops, he attempts to pull out but you’re quick to lock your legs around his. His lips move against your skin, “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” You sniffle, shaking your head. But Paul can see straight through your lie. He asks the question again, shifting because he’s afraid of causing you pain. This time, you answer truthfully, “It hurts but your cock… it feels so good, Paul - don’t stop, please don’t stop -”
He listens and continues to push his hips forward. Your eyes remain closed but your mouth hangs open, little mewling noises coming forth. Paul struggles to remain composed as your tight cunt swallows his girth. At a glacial pace, he pushes into your body and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He’s struggling not to cum because, for him, the suction of your velvety walls is swiftly driving him toward the edge. 
“You’re such a good girl,” He’s barely audible, hands gripping the side of your protruding stomach. He gives one final thrust, grunting, “Cunt so goddamn tight,”
His cock is fully inside, buried to the hilt. You’re gasping, fireworks sparking behind your eyelids. Your hands are trailing along his back, nails digging into fevered flesh. It still hurts but it’s a good type of hurt. He begins rocking his hips, slowly at first, stretching out your virgin cunt. The mixture of pain and pleasure has you splitting open, crying out, “Oh, fuck! Paul!”
For a moment, Paul thinks he’s hurting you again and he pauses. You hiss at him, “My lord, just fuck me already,”
Your lord does not like that. He sits up on his knees, arms placed on either side of you and hovers over your body. It glistens with sweat and you’re eyes have snapped open at the sudden loss. You see that Paul’s eyebrows are knitted together, irritated that you brought up his nobility. He pulls out, noting the smear of crimson around his cock but doesn’t think twice about it and shoves it back inside. 
You cry out, “My lord,”
He seethes, biting down on his lower lip and begins to rapidly thrust in and out. You want to be properly fucked and he’s giving you exactly what you want. The room fills with your cries of pleasure as Paul spitefully fucks your sweet cunt. The same sweet cunt that is making crude, wet noises, making it impossible not to spill his seed right then and there. 
He wants to make sure that you finish too but Paul knows he’s close. He feels the familiar sensation of an orgasm building inside; he knows the feeling all too well because he’s no stranger to masturbation. In fact, he’s spilled his seed onto this very bed many times in the past year. He’s restraining himself, the friction starting to become too much for him - the tight coil wants to snap and he can’t stop thinking about filling your womb with his seed. 
He shudders, willing himself to slow down so that you can catch up to him. His thrusting turns tender and he begins to lovingly guide his cock into your body, burying it against your hilt. Paul notices that you like this more because your moans have become guttural, coming from somewhere deep. He does it again, fully burrowing his cock in your velvety walls. They are contracting, practically convincing Paul to spill his seed. He's barely able to resist the temptation.
You seem to be fighting your own demons and reaching for something that you aren’t even sure exists. Certainly, it must because what else is this feeling that has pooled inside your belly? The liquid is hot, near boiling point. Each time Paul thrusts his cock, it hits a spot and it makes your cunt convulse, and your eyes roll back because the stimulation is too much.
Your hands grip Paul’s strong arms, nails digging into his flesh. Paul reaches down between your bodies, fingers fondling your fuzzy little mound as he remains buried inside. He pushes your puffy lips apart and presses your button. It sends a jolt through your body and you bellow out, “Paul!”
He presses his thumb against the sensitive little nub and glides his cock against that spot, and you’re so close - so close. Paul pushes his cock into the depths of your cunt, practically tearing into your womb. His cock quivers against the friction of your walls and he shudders, eyes closing tight while his hand continues to work your clitoris. He wills himself not to cum but it’s useless because, within seconds, he’s shooting his hot, thick load into your tight, breedable cunt. 
You cry out, feeling as Paul’s arousal fills you. It’s the thought of Paul impregnating you that causes your orgasm to boil over. Your pussy clenches and convulses with gratification at having the opportunity to give Paul an heir. You cling to him, needing him more than ever as you repeatedly call out his name, prolonging the vowels, “Paaaaauuuul, Paaaauuuul, Paaaauuuulll!”
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femmenature · 8 months
Text
please, please, please
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Pairing: Marcus Lopez x f! reader
Summary: We all know Marcus listens to The Smiths. And while you were listening to them in his ro m, he confesses that you are the only thing he really wants.
Warnings: talks about abandonment.
-
Good times for a change See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad
The Smiths was playing in the background as we hung out in Marcus' room, lucky that Shabnam wasn't here. The air was a little tense as we had an argument a few days earlier. I was determined to get away from here, I don't belong here. And he got angry as he said we were a family, his first family here. Days passed and the atmosphere calmed down, but we needed to talk.
"Hey, what are you thinking, I see you very focused on your little bubble" I spoke, interrupting the music, he raised his head and looked me in the eyes.
So please, please, please Let me, let me, let me, let me Let me get what I want this time
"Just, I was concentrating on the music…Overthinking the lyrics" his hands played with each other, anxious. "What's the one thing I'd beg to have no matter what else. What's the one thing I long for."
Haven't had a dream in a long time See, the life I've had can make a good man bad
"I always thought the idea of killing the president was the only thing keeping me alive, and, somehow I longed to kill him so I could finish myself off. Because I'd have nothing to stay here for." His gaze bore into my eyes and tears gathered in his. "And now all I pray for is for you to stay by my side because it's the only thing that gives me hope. My prayers were never heard, I'm not the right person to ask for them. But for the first time in my life I desperately ask to have you with me. So please, please, please don't abandon me, not you."
"Marcus..You are the only one who could convince me to stay here. I know this is not my place, but no matter where I go, if you are not there, then I would be incomplete" His eyes fixed on my lips as his hands caressed my cheek. Without thinking we melted into a kiss, full of love and desperation for closeness. Knowing that after this, we could not live without each other.
So, for once in my life, let me get what I want Lord knows it would be the first time Lord knows it would be the first time
-
I'm not going to lie to you, I rushed doing this story because I have things to do. But 2 days without this was already too much. Thanks for reading!
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oneshotnewbie · 2 months
Note
how about an addison montgomery x reader and finding out reader has abusive parents thanks!!!!!
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⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of abusive parents. This plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.
ᕚ---ᕘ
The bright sun shone through the large windows of the waiting room at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital as you paced nervously in the waiting room. The thought of the upcoming check-up with Dr. Addison Montgomery made your heart beat faster even though you repeated this year after year. Despite your fears, you knew it was important to get regular checkups, especially after you noticed some unusual symptoms.
When you were finally called, you followed the nurse through the corridors of the gynecological clinic until you finally stood in front of the door to the treatment room. Once inside, Dr. Montgomery greeted you with a warm smile. "Welcome back, y/n. How are you today?"
You forced a smile, concern for your health and life's obstacles overshadowing your usual demeanor. "Thanks, I'm feeling okay so far. I'm here for a checkup because I've noticed a few symptoms that are worrying me."
Addison nodded understandingly and asked you to take a seat. However, as she began to ask the usual questions, she immediately noticed that something was wrong. Your posture was stiff, your answers were short, and you seemed uncomfortable. Quite the opposite from the last times she had seen you. "Can you tell me about the symptoms you've been noticing lately?" She asked softly and you hesitated for a moment before answering. "Well, I have unusual pulling and pressure in my abdomen. I feel very tired in general but I think that's probably just normal."
The redhead frowned slightly as she began to do the examination. When she gestured with her hand to ask you to sit on the exam chair, you flinched and promptly avoided making eye contact with her. "I´m sorry..." you simply interjected and as you continued to sit on the chair, Addison felt an inexplicable restlessness arise within her.
She watched you carefully as she took swabs and checked to see what was going on. As she did so, she recognized subtle signs of fear and insecurity manifesting in your behavior that she had never seen in you before. It was as if there was something in the air, something unspoken, standing between them and demanding their attention. She could practically feel the tension surrounding you, and her instincts told her that there was more going on here than what seemed like a checkup.
After she had also completed an ultrasound on you, Addison sat down on the lounger next to you and quickly decided to ask carefully. "I want to be honest with you. I noticed some signs during the exams that could indicate something might be wrong. I think it might be helpful if you talked about it." She murmured questioningly, placing a soothing hand on your thigh, making you jump at the touch as well.
You looked at her in surprise, your eyes fixed on her with relief. But only hesitantly did you begin to talk about your concerns, which went far beyond the physical symptoms. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" The person you spoke to nodded at you, giving you time to express yourself. She sensed that there was more here than your body had yet revealed, and she wanted to give you the opportunity to open up when you were ready. "I'm your doctor, y/n. Everything you tell me is confidential."
You swallowed hard before finally finding the courage to say the words you had suppressed for so long. "It's my father," you began hesitantly and the gynecologist listened attentively without interrupting. "Since the pandemic and losing his job, he's... he's not exactly... friendly to me."
The reticence and fear had crumbled as you revealed the truth about your home situation to her. You confessed to the constant insults, humiliation and physical abuse you endured from your father and Addison continued to listen intently, offering you an empathetic embrace of comfort and support as you revealed the painful details of your abuse.
When you finished, an oppressive silence fell across the room. Addison felt the weight of your words on her own shoulders. She felt powerless in the face of the suffering you had to endure at such a young age, an inner anger boiling up towards your parents and at the same time a burning desire deep inside her to help you. "Thank you, y/n, for trusting me," she finally spoke in a quiet voice and rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. This time you didn't flinch. "What has been done to you and continues to happen to you is unacceptable and you deserve to be safe and protected. I will do everything in my power to help you get out of this situation."
The shock of what she had heard was deep within her, but she forced herself to remain calm and empathetic. Her first priority was to reassure you that you were safe and that she would help you. She hugged you gently and held you close to her, giving your tears a place to disappear. "Please believe me when I say that you are safe here," she began to speak to you calmly. "No one will hurt you in front of me and if it happens again, you come straight to me, okay?"
You lowered your gaze, tears glistening in your eyes as you let yourself fall into her embrace, feeling the instant warmth and comfort she offered you. For a moment you felt safe, surrounded by the care of this remarkable woman who was willing to stand up for you. “Thank you, Dr. Montgomery,” you whispered, your voice shaking. "It means so much to me to know I'm not alone."
Addison smiled softly and rubbed your back. "From now on it's Addison. I think we're past the formal part. And of course, I'll help you through the difficult times, and I'll be by your side as long as you need me."
At that moment, you knew you had made the right decision to reach out to her. You felt strengthened by her words and beneath all the vulnerability you showed there was also a spark of hope. Hope that you weren't alone, that there were people who cared about you and were ready to help you when you needed it. You felt relieved that you had confided in someone, and Addison promised to support you every step of the way, whether through further testing, therapy, or any other form of police or court help you needed.
As you left the office, you felt a little more confident with her personal phone number and address. Addison Montgomery, who promised to protect you if your father became abusive again and you needed a place to stay. You knew that from now on you were no longer alone but had found an ally in her in the fight against the darkness that surrounded you.
ᕚ---ᕘ
In the weeks that followed, Addison Montgomery and you developed a deep bond that went beyond the boundaries of an ordinary doctor-patient relationship. She had given you her personal address and phone number in case you ever had to run away from home and didn't know where to go. The gesture of care had touched you deeply and shown you that you were not just a patient, but now also had a friendship that you could rely on.
The conversations between the two of you became more and more open and intimate as you worked together to come up with a plan to get yourself out of the dangerous situation you found yourself in. And one Saturday morning, after you had escaped from your father's attacks and came to her, Addison offered to take you in and give you a safe haven, away from your parents' abuse and humiliation.
At first you were unsure whether you should accept the offer. The fear of the unknown, the worry of the consequences, and the fear of becoming too much for Addison held you back. But in the end, your trust, the hope for a better life and the love that she conveyed to you every day prevailed.
At midnight on that same warm spring night, you packed your few belongings and made your way to Addison's house. As you opened the door, a feeling of relief and freedom washed over you. The redhead welcomed you with open arms and a warm, loving smile that showed you that you were finally safe and that she would never let anything happen to you again.
Over the coming weeks and months, you began to settle into your new home, helping Addison with Henry while she was at work. Under her loving care, you slowly blossomed, gained self-confidence, and finally found the courage to leave your past behind you.
Addison supported you every step of the way in your healing, whether it was through therapeutic conversations, medical care, or just her unconditional love and support. Together you went through ups and downs, but you always stood by each other, determined to overcome the darkness together and step into the light of a better future. Your connection was strong, characterized by mutual respect, trust and love and you knew that you would be connected forever.
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zeroeightzeroone · 5 months
Text
selfish - hwang hyunjin 
genre: angst
pairing: idol!hwang hyunjin x gn!reader
warnings: reader tries to push hyunjin once
wc ~2k | moodboard
notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。 。・:*:・゚★,。・:
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"you left, hyunjin."
the two of you are a couple feet away from each other, eyes locked on the other. 
your chest heaving but breath stuttering due to the overwhelming emotion flowing through your entire body, the sight of the boy in front of you sending your heart and mind into overdrive. your mind screaming at you, wishing it could jump out and shake your body as it tries to remind you just how much he hurt you, that you should hate his guts right now. while your heart clenches at the sight of him, the resentment in your mind conflicting with the undying amounts of love you have for the man standing across from you.
"you told me that night i didn't need to be scared of you leaving," your feet take you closer to him, harshly poking your pointer finger into his chest, "but you lied. you left."
the tears fall freely down your cheeks and onto the fabric of your hoodie. you make no effort to wipe them away. hyunjin so desperately wants to reach out and wipe them away for you, but he knows he's no longer in a place to do that for you. the opportunity he has right now to even have you standing this close to him is something he thought he would never get again. at the same time, hyunjin's heart falls because he knows the animosity you hold towards him is completely understandable.
"i–"
"no," you shake your head, cutting him off, "don't say you couldn't do anything."
your tone is laced with so much emotion, the heartache, betrayal and anger mixed together as you spit at him. your eyes are locked on his, glossy eyes on each other as all he can see is the disdain you held for him in those orbs of yours.
hyunjin couldn't, he didn't want to, imagine just how much he hurt you. he didn't want to know just how much pain and suffering he had brought to you, but he also knew that he needed to know. hyunjin needed to know just how much he fucked up, he needed to know each and every one of his mistakes for the opportunity to learn from them, fix them and ensure they never ever happen again. hyunjin wants to know how he can mend the heart he so selfishly broke.
"there was always something you could do, you just had to want to do it."
your jaw is clenched, tensed as you try your best to speak through your tears. the words feeling like they're getting stuck inside your throat.
"if y-you wanted to you would. if you wanted to stay with me and b-be with me you would have done just that."
your eyes search his.
"…do you know just how much i loved you?" a bitter smile falls onto your lips, "how much i sacrificed for you… for us! i didn't do that just for me, but because i-i wanted you, i wanted us! i wanted to work for a life where it was us in the future!"
you sigh deeply, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm your emotions. a futile attempt but an attempt none the less.
"if you loved me the way you said you did… you would have wanted m-me, wanted an us! you would have done anything and everything so there would have been an us!"
your eyes remain shut. the sight of the man who broke your heart only inflicting further pain on you.
"if you loved me like you said you did. you would have tried harder for me. for us. for that figure together, i guess… i was the only one who was in love."
hyunjin snaps, "i love you. i love you more than i've ever loved someone, something, anything. i always have and always will."
your hands move to his chest, you want to push him away from you.
"bullshit."
you try to shove him backwards but hyunjin grabs your hands in his. instead, he keeps his balance, you're the one being pulled into his body, cheek landing on his chest. hyunjin's touch ignites a fire where his hands are, everything you missed and longed for the past couple of months hitting you all at once: the warmth radiating off his body onto yours, the feeling of having him so close to you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat, feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. this only has you crying harder as your heart races in your chest.
"don't lie to me."
you're shaking your head. you hope that shaking it enough would change the reality; that hyunjin didn't leave, that he wasn't here right now, that it would extinguish the pain nestled inside your heart that's spreading through your body like a wildfire.
"d-don't you dare fucking lie to me, hwang hyunjin."
"i-"
"y-you can't tell me you love me more than anything.. you.. when you left me just like that."
the tears continue to fall.
"you didn't fight for our love… why did you leave me? you went silent for so damn long."
the strength in your legs falters with your emotions, falling into hyunjin's chest. your fists balling up the fabric of his shirt, further staining it with your tears.
"you left w-without an explanation."
your hands grip harder onto his shirt. at the same time, hyunjin's grip on you tightened, holding you tight and never wanting to let go, something he should've been doing the whole time.
"why did you show up now? huh?"
a whimper leaves him as he feels your body shaking in his hold.
"y-you don't hurt someone you love l-like this."
your cries get harder to the point where you're hiccuping too much to get any words out.
"i'm sorry."
his voice comes out hoarse and incredibly quiet.
"i'm so fucking sorry," his eyes flutter closed, "i-i know i've made terrible mistakes, mistakes that have hurt you so so badly that i don't deserve to even have you close to me right now."
"you think s-sorry is going to fix this?" your response is sharp, "you t-think sorry is going to erase the months of heartbreak i went through because you left?" 
he shakes his head even though you aren't looking at him.
"d-do you think the word sorry is going to change how... m-much I blamed m-myself for the past couple of months? t-that it was my fault you di-didn't love me anymore?"
hyunjin bites down on his bottom lip, the weight on his chest gradually increasing with your words, with your tears seeping through his shirt and onto his skin.
your voice trembles, tone cracking and faltering due to how overwhelmed you are, "w-why? tell me why... please."
"...i didn't leave because of you. i l-left... i left because of me, because… fuck… i love you. i know you don't believe me but i do, i r-really do. I'm so in love with you, it fucking terrifies me. my-... god, my life can be a lot, and subjecting you to the eyes of everyone in the world, knowing how brutal they can be absolutely scared the shit out of me."
hyunjin's body is trembling, you feel it against your own. you keep quiet, even though a small part of your brain is telling you to hurt him the way he did you. but you bite your tongue as hyunjin takes a breath and gulps.
"no one, no one deserves the relentless, negative comments that people in my industry get no matter what we do. i didn't want you… someone w-who didn't choose this job, to be in the spotlight, t-to become a target for people to spew relentless hate to."
a few days before hyunjin left, there was a meeting at the company. a meeting he never told you about. a small group of fans had found a handful of shreds of evidence surrounding the possibility that he might be dating someone, the rumours didn't phase him, and it wasn't the first time he was wrapped up in them; there was a tweet that included a low-quality photo of the two of you and his blood ran cold. 
the rumour was small enough that it didn't capture the eyes of mainstream media or large publications, but the rumour went around enough to fall into the hands of people wishing you nothing but terrible things. the fact that they had a photo of you and knew what you looked like scared him shitless. he had seen comments during that meeting, ones that had him sick to his stomach, heart dropping at the possibility he put you in harm's way. hyunjin demanded that action be taken immediately.
the reality dawned on him then.
anyone associated with him, confirmed or not, would receive the most heinous comments and their safety would be on the line. he didn't want to be the reason you no longer lived a normal life, the reason you couldn't live the life you worked for, the life you chose. so he left.
"i love you so much that i had to let you go," his tears fall onto the crown of your head, "i didn't want your safety, your life to be in jeopardy because of me."
"what? w-what are you talking about hyunjin?"
he squeezes his eyes shut, the memory of that meeting fresh in his mind months after it happened.
"t-there was a rumour about me... us. they had a photo of you... it was incredibly low-quality b-but that doesn't matter. t-they said shit that scared me."
"hyun-"
"i've heard stories, horror stories, about what could happen and I didn't want that, fuck.. it scared me to think what if it happened to you?. i-i didn't want to be the reason you were ever unsafe or hurt, you don't deserve that. i f-figured i'd rather see you happy with a-another man... safe and living the normal life you worked for."
"i-i don't want anyone else, i only want you hyunjin."
"i-i... but loving me comes with so many risks... so many more sacrifices that i-i don't want to put you through."
you lift your head from his chest, meeting his glossy eyes, "but loving you comes with you. i don't care about the risks and sacrifices of it, as long as it's for you and with you at the end of the day."
hyunjin shakes his head, "n-no don't say that. you would only grow to hate me and the life i dragged you into."
one of your hands moves to cup hyunjin's cheek, keeping his head still as you look into his eyes, "i love you. i chose you as the person i want to spend the rest of my life with, i chose to share my life with you. you aren't dragging me into anything, i'm choosing to step into that life, your life, because i'm so in love with you i don't want a life without you. i can't imagine a life without you."
he's searching your eyes, looking for a hint of fear or hesitance but he sees nothing. he doesn't understand how you could love someone where their career would put you in danger.
"why did you show up now?" you repeat your question from earlier.
his gaze falls away from yours, his cheeks flushing, "because i-i... i wanted to see you. i missed you so much that it hurt. i thought seeing you happy, one last time, would tell me i made the right decision but…"
"i'm not happy."
he nods.
"but-"
"but what hyunjin?"
"it's selfish," his eyes graze over your face, your head angled in confusion, "after everything i-i put you through when i left, to ask you to come back to me. t-to love me again. it's selfish of me to ask you to take more risks and sacrifices that come with my life."
"i don't care if it's selfish, be selfish, for me. please."
this time, hyunjin's hands come up to cup your cheeks, his eyes locking with yours. teary eyes boring into each other.
"i'm selfish. i'm so fucking selfish."
your hands move to his wrists, holding them there.
"i'm selfish in the way i love you more than anything, that i want you more than anything. that i want you all to myself after everything."
he inches closer to you. 
"i'm selfish in the way that i will do everything to ensure that you're mine, only mine. i'll do everything i should have been doing. fixing all my mistakes and making up for them, doing everything in my power to keep you safe, i don't know what i'd do if something happened to you... i-if you let me, i will do anything and everything to fulfill my selfish desires of wanting you to love me, and loving you for the rest of our lives."
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heartfullofleeches · 10 months
Text
Practice
College Yan + Older Neighbor Reader [M + G.N]
Summary: A friend requests a favor from you after a rough night
Warning: Legal age gap, mentions of alcohol and drugs, emotional manipulation, groping
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12 missed calls....
"..Hey, Y/n. Just realized you're probably still at work right now....l I just wanted to say thanks for everything. Without you - I don't think I'd be out here tonight.."
"Y/n - hey! Oh... just missed you I guess. I just arrived, and... honestly I'm really nervous. There's more people than I thought there'd be and I don't know anyone. You mind if I call again? Even if you don't answer - it's nice not being alone."
"Y/n... things are going pretty good so far. Someone just came up to me and handed me a cup. I've never drank before, but I have too many regrets already to have another. This goes out to you."
"Are you afraid of dying alone?.... it never crossed my mind until my grandad died a few years back. Nobody liked the guy so he just.... wasted away alone in his house. I don't want that to happen to me. I wish you were here."
"Y/n?.... fuck... please don't listen to that last message. Can you come pick me up? I sent the address to you earlier, but I forgot to tell you. I think I drank too much and I know it's late but... fuck."
"You're coming to pick me up...aren't you? You wouldn't leave me behind like everyone has... I'm so happy I-"
Message Saved.
You didn't need to hear the rest. Teddi was the sweetest guy you've met in recent years. A little rough around the edges, sure, but it's a given with everything he's been through. Once you cracked that shell, he revealed that dorky, loveable self of his who still cried when animals died in movies yet gushed for hours about his fascination with horror media as a whole. You thought you were doing the right thing by trying to get him out of his comfort zone - keep him from turning out like you.
Breathing through your teeth, you toss your phone into the passenger seat as you exit the vehicle. Beer glasses and someone's glasses left out in the field crunch beneath your feet as you cross the lawn up to the house and adjacent door. Poking your head through the crack; a sea of young adults and their peers overcrowd the living space - egging each other into boisterous acts and having the time of their new lives. Realistically you couldn't be a few years older than the older face in the crowd, but this wasn't your click. You walk up to the nearest, unattended person and tap them on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, looking for someone. Thick glasses, nose ring, blue...ish hair? Should've brought my phone out-"
"Oh!! You must be Ted's partner. Y/n - right?."
"We aren't dating. I'm their neighbor."
"My bad - he's just been talking about you all night so I thought - anyway, he's up on the roof. Said he needed the fresh air. Just head upstairs, the ladder to the attic should be right there.
"Alright. Thanks." You push past them and up the stairs - bracing your foot on the ladder rails that creek under your weight as you climb up into the attic. The room is foggy, musty fog filtered out the open door leading to the patio. You reject an offer for its source as politely as you could as you brush by the individuals occupying the space, pulling your shirt over your nose as you step out into the chilly night. Laying on a blanket made of someone else's coat, Teddi sits beneath the stars wearing the jacket you lent him about a week ago. He takes the blunt offered by a peer, breaking off its tip as he pulls it to his lips. You knock on the door frame twice - smoke violent exhausted from his nose and lungs as he turns around to see you.
"Y/n." Teddi staggers to his feet, legs tangled in his makeshift blanket as he trips and stumbles his way towards you. He sports a dopey grin, fixing your jacket to his shoulder. "Hey, we were just talking about you - this is.. uh.." He snapped his fingers. "Fuck."
"Trudy."
"Trudy! Right, haha - they're great, but not as great as you."
"That's great." You wrap an arm around their shoulder, turning them towards the door. "We're leaving."
Teddi slurs out a whine, leaning back - trying to pull you with him. "What? But you just got here. I wanna introduce you to everyone first."
"Maybe later. I need to get you home." Your right hand finds the small of his back, locking around his waist. "Car - now."
His pink face flushes further. "Okay...."
-
Loading Teddi into the car, his head slumps against the passenger window as you shut the door. The ride home is mostly quiet - his hand glued to your lap no matter how many times you nudge him away. His head rolls over to your shoulder and the alcohol on his breath fans your face as he speaks.
"Do you think somebody will ever love me, Y/n?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"I meant someone tonight."
He studies your face. No twinge of jealousy or sadness. You almost looked relieved. He swallows, buring the ache as he continues. "I meant someone and.... I know they're way out of my league. Kind....smart....when they smile it's like the whole room lights up. We hadn't known each other for long, but they've always been there and... I can't imagine life without them now that they're here. Despite our differences I know we are meant for each other."
You ease your foot off the gas. "....Ted. You're a good kid. If I had known a guy like you back when I was your age I would have loved to get to know him."
Teddi sits upright, looking down as he rubs his face. "Quit talking like you're so much older than me..."
"We're here."
Teddi glances outside. Always when he works up the courage to talk to you.. You park outside your house and round the car to help him get to his. Teddi clutches your arm as you face his yard.
"Please don't make me go home tonight, Y/n."
His nails dig into your shirt. "Please."
You sigh. Helping him up the driveway and into your home, you guide Teddi into your bedroom- afraid of what's happen if you give him the couch. Teddi relaxes as you cross the threshold into your living room. The familiarity of your home, just the two of you in this vast space - he wouldn't give it up for anything. The lingering stress melts from his face as you lower him into your bed, resting on the pillow you lay your head on every night. You set his glasses on the dresser and bring him a glass of water - wishing him good night as you turn off the lights. Hovering over the bed, he grabs your wrist as you turn to leave.
"Y/n..... please stay with me tonight."
He brings a hand up to your face, stroking your jaw as he pulls you closer. "Kiss me, Y/n."
".... how much did you drink, Teddi."
"Alot, but - I need you... to help me I mean. I've never kissed anyone before, and I need the practice if I'm ever going to tell them how I feel. You're the only person I can turn to for this. You promised that you would always be there for me."
You knew that would come back to haunt eventually. "Ted, when I said I'd help you with anything, I meant like teaching you how to do your taxes or change a tire. This isn't something we should be doing."
His cheek presses against your neck, fresh tears staining your skin. "We can forget about it in the morning.... They're all I have. You're all I have... Please don't leave me too."
"....show me."
"Huh?"
"How you would confess. Show me."
You sit on the edge of the bed. Teddi props back against the frame, tucking his hair behind one ear and fixing his shirt. He chews on his bottom lip - the moonlight reflecting off your skin basking you in that heavenly shine he always saw. He looks down. "I'm gonna use your name just to make it easier - okay?"
Teddi takes a deep breath. "Y/n - you... you're the most amazing person I've ever met. When I'm with you, it's like opening my eyes for the first time. You're someone I know I can trust through thick and thin... you've always been there for me, and I want to be here for you... forever."
He scoots closer, placing a hand on your lap as he cups your cheek - leaning in til his forehead rests against yours. "I like you...I love you. Please, stay with me."
Teddi slowly closes the distance; fingers restricted round your thigh as his lips fall flush against yours. It feels like a crime - your soft skin beneath his chapped, bitten lips. He presses deeper, engraving every each of you into his memory and being that his mind would allow. His tongue ghosts your lower lip, snaking against your teeth. His hand clasps the base of your neck as he adds his weight to your chest, pulling you up on the bed as he brings your hanging leg up to his side.
"y/n....."
He cards his fingers through at your hair - the taste of whiskey and desperation hot on your tongue as you wince from the abrupt tug at the back of your skull. The depth of your mouth is more indicating than any substance he had all night. His fingers sink into the flesh of your leg, working towards the curve of your ass as a moan vibrates through your teeth centered from throaty whine he makes as they close around his tongue. His lip ram yours as he tilts his head for a better angle with enough force to bruise, and by god he hopes it does. Biting down doesn't stop his tongue from barreling down your throat - ball piercing sucked to the roof of your mouth. He gives pause only when he finally accepts the stars dancing in view are from the lack of oxygen rather the magic of the eve- falling to your chest with a few links and kisses between greedy intakes of air and your scent. He giggles, hiccuping as his arms shoot around your waist.
"My first kiss...... I made sure to tear off the end when I smoked with that girl so I wouldn't lose it even indirectly. Was I your first too? Can you by my first in other ways too?"
You pull from under him as he nips at your shoulder. "You're not into Trudy?"
"Trudy?" The name rolls off his tongue with such disgust and confusion. "Heck no. The person I like is so much more special than her. I'm lucky to even be in their presence. I wanna give them the world. My heart. I love you.... them- so much."
You fall silent as he nuzzles his face against your torso, eyes growing heavy. "It's late, Teddi. Go to bed."
"Will you sleep with me?.... Stay with me until the morning?..."
".....Always."
Teddi cuddles up to your side as you join him in bed - fighting exhaustion to treasure your sleeping face beside him.
918 notes · View notes
chiriwritesstuff · 20 days
Text
The Girl in IT- 8. The Panic! in the Breakroom (Christine's Version)
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
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The LIST │ Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: M
Chapter Summary: Joel and Sugar spend some time apart and have serious conversations about their relationship's future. Everything is about to change...
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Reckless Driving, Talks about Periods and Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and all of the shitty things that could happen with it including blood loss, miscarriage, and painful pregnancies, Someone gets punched (it's Joel, he gets socked in the face), Sugar takes a backseat as chaos ensues, Badass Ellie Miller, Ellie is going through it, Joel is going through it, Sugar's going through it!, Badass Survivalist Bill to the rescue, There is no smut in this chapter (like at all), no beta we die like men!
Word Count: 8.2 K
A/N: Here it is, the first chapter of my big rework, as I mentioned in this post. If you've read the original posting of this chapter, you know it ended with a surprise pregnancy and a proposal. As much as I know many of you enjoyed that outcome, it was also a departure from my true intentions for Sugar and Joel's relationship timeline, which set off a chain reaction for this story. I was afraid of alienating my readers- I thought by avoiding a darker or more heartbreaking storyline, I wouldn't upset anyone and felt like giving a happy ending to this chapter was the right move. Upon reflection, I started to regret it. Trying to censor myself out of fear of losing readers and not staying true to myself is not the way to go, and I've learned from this lesson.
There is a massive plot change in this chapter. Most of the story is the same, but I have included several pivotal moments with Joel and Sugar that will change the tone of the rest of the series. I do promise that we will be getting our happy ending, just at a different pace. This chapter does have some triggering moments, so please read the tags before reading. I also want to note that chapters 9 and 10 will be completely rewritten. I have set those chapters to private as I continue to rework them, and I hope to get those chapters out promptly before we dive into 'My Wife in IT'. Thank you so much for reading and for sticking around. I really do appreciate it.
"The conference should only be a few days, baby," Joel reassures you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before disappearing into the walk-in closet to grab a flannel.
As he starts getting dressed, he catches your lingering gaze and teases, "See something you like, baby?" A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he zips up his jeans.
Unable to resist, you slide out of bed and join him. Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you pout and playfully protest, "Do you really need to go, though?" You reach around him to button up his shirt, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "The bed will feel so empty without you... and it's kind of weird being here alone."
"Well, with Ellie being in the house I bet you'll hardly feel alone, hell, I can just see her attached to your hip the whole time," Joel replies, spinning around and pulling you into the warmth of his broad chest, kissing the top of your head. "You won't even notice I'm gone when she's around, she'll keep you on your toes plenty."
"Have you spent time with Ellie lately? You know anything could happen when she's around."
Joel smirks, "You've got a point there. I still need to fix the oven from her latest kitchen mishap. But hey, don't stress. If you bring Sir Bubbles along, she'll be entertained for days. It's like she's more attached to him than she is to both of us combined."
"But do you have to go, Joel?" you protest once more, "I'm sure Tommy can handle things; he's a big boy."
Joel raises an intrigued eyebrow. "Bigger than me, Mami?" he murmurs, giving you a little pout.  
"No one is bigger than you, Papi," you tease, giving him a wink. Gazing up at the ceiling, a sudden wave of unease twists your expression. You find yourself clutching at your middle, groaning slightly in pain.
"Baby? Are you okay?" Joel is suddenly at your side, his face etched with concern. He pushes your hair out of your face, giving you a small smile.  
"I don't want to call it, but I think my period is coming," you reply sadly. 
"You would think with all of the times we've tried to get pregnant, surely it would take," you sigh, frowning as you stare at the ceiling, not wanting to face Joel and his disappointment. "I'm sorry, Papi."
"Why are you apologizing to me, Sugar? We have all the time in the world! Besides, I'm loving all of the attempts," he wiggles his eyebrows, pressing a kiss on your forehead. I'm more concerned about your health than anything else, okay?"
"Okay. I'm just worried because we're not getting any younger, and I don't think your knees can handle chasing a toddler," You tease, pulling him into a slow and languid kiss.  
"I'll have you know, all of this sex we've been having has given me a new lease on life, I haven't worked out so much in my damn life! I'm in my prime, baby." Joel runs a hand through his hair as he walks over to the bedroom door, scanning the hallway for Ellie. He turns back to look at you on the bed. "Promise me you'll see a doctor if you get any worse?"
"I can't make any promises-"
"Sugar, I'm serious. If you start to get worse, you call Ellie and have her take you to the doctor. I mean it, baby. Please. Just put my mind at ease, okay?"  
"Okay."
"Ellie!" Joel's voice echoes down the hallway. "Come here for a second!"
"Yeah?" Ellie pops her head out of her bedroom door. "Are you heading out now?" She strolls out, securing her hair into a ponytail as she settles beside you on Joel's bed. "Hey, why don't we swing by your place after the old man leaves to pick up my buddy? I can't wait for Sir Bubbles to see his new cat jungle!"
You flinch slightly, adjusting into a seated position next to Ellie. "Sure thing. We can grab some lunch on the way, too."
Joel clears his throat, retrieving something from his dresser and handing it to you with a smile. "I've been meaning to give this to you sooner, but since I'm leaving for a few days-"
You open the envelope he hands you, eyes widening at the realization that he's giving you an American Express card that matches his, your name etched onto the metal surface. "Woah, Joel, I don't think this is necessary-"
"If you're going to be spending time under this roof while I'm gone, I don't want you using your own money for things like groceries and necessities, especially if it's for you and Ellie. Use this card while I'm away; go to the mall and go wild," he glances at Ellie, who grins conspiratorially. "But no more guitars, Ellie. Not after the last time."
"How was I supposed to know the guitar was $10,000? The one in your office is twice the amount, I swear!" Ellie groans, knocking her shoulder against yours. "I'm sure Sugar will keep me in check, you have nothing to worry about, old man!"
"Hey, are you ready yet, asshole?" Tommy's voice suddenly booms from the front door. "We needed to head to Waco ten minutes ago!" he exclaims.
Joel sticks his head out of his bedroom door. "Yeah, just give me a damn second!" Grabbing his weekender duffle, he presses a kiss on your cheek. "Okay baby, I need to go. I'll see you in two days, okay?"
"Okay," you reply with a smile, pulling him into a kiss. "... and don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen to me, okay? Promise."
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"Reservation for Miller," Joel tells the hotel receptionist, retrieving his wallet from his back pocket to produce his Amex. "It should be under Joel Miller."
"Welcome back Mr. Miller!" The receptionist beams, tapping away at her computer. "Let me just pull up your reservation. Give me a moment... Ah, yes, reservation for Joel Miller, one room, two keys."
"Wait, hold on," Tommy interjects, nudging Joel aside. "What do you mean one room?"
"The reservation for Miller only indicates one room," the receptionist replies with a sweet smile, her head cocked to one side.
"Well, there must be some mistake, miss." Joel's brows furrow with concern.
The receptionist glances at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. "I apologize for any confusion, but that's how it's listed in our system. One room, two keys for Mr. Joel Miller."
Tommy exchanges a perplexed look with Joel, a touch of frustration evident. "Look, we need two separate rooms. Must've been a mix-up. Can you check again or maybe offer us an additional room?"
The receptionist hesitates for a moment before typing away on her keyboard. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Let me see if there's anything available." After a brief pause, she looks up. "I'm afraid we're fully booked tonight, with the conference and all, and the reservation is for a single room. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
"Please tell me there's at least a cot or a pull-out couch in the room," Tommy groans, shaking his head.
The Receptionist hesitates, giggling awkwardly. "Well, there's a king-size bed? I guess it's pretty spacious?" 
Joel and Tommy exchange glances, silently communicating their dissatisfaction with the situation. "Alright, fine," Joel concedes with a sigh. "We'll make do with what we have. But this better not become a habit."
The receptionist offers an apologetic smile. "I assure you, Mr. Miller, we'll do our best to make your stay enjoyable. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."
Joel and Tommy head towards the elevator, resigned to share a room for the night. As they walk away, Joel mutters to Tommy, "We'll sort this out tomorrow. Let's just get some rest for now."
"I guess it'll be like old times, brother, sharing a room and all," Tommy grunts. "I swear, if you snuggle up with me or fart in the sheets, I'll punch you right in the balls."
"If my memory serves me right, weren't you the one sneaking into my bed when things got a bit dicey in the night?" Joel retorts, arching an eyebrow while casually checking his emails on his iPhone. "Oh, Joel, I'm so scared of the boogeyman, can I sleep with you tonight?!" he imitates in an attempt at a childish voice, smirking.  
"It's really gonna be like that, huh? You're gonna play that card? What about that time after we watched 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'? Weren't you begging Mama to let you sleep in her bed, thinking Freddy's gonna suck you up from your bed like Johnny Depp? Am I gonna wake up to you screaming?"
"Oh, go fuck yourself, Tommy, you ass-" The elevator dings to their floor, a family staring back at them. Tommy clears his throat, navigating around the family, shooting Joel a look as he heads to the room. "Evenin'," Joel murmurs, tipping his head to the family. "Excuse me."
Tommy is already in the room by the time Joel casually strolls in, rummaging through the welcome basket the conference organizers had prepared for Joel. "Well, it's nice of you to grace us with your presence, 'Mr. Austin's Entrepreneur of the Year 2023,'" he teases, extracting a bottle of Johnny Walker. "At least they give you the decent shit." Taking a swig straight from the bottle, he hands it over to Joel.
"Nah, I'm not drinking tonight," Joel murmurs, dropping his weekender unceremoniously on the floor as he plops onto the bed, pinching the space between his eyebrows. "I want to stay sober just in case Sugar calls me."
Tommy takes another swig, settling on the couch beside the window with a view of the city of Waco. "I noticed that she was looking a bit pale. Something going on?"
"She told me that she's about to start her period, I'm assuming that they can be quite an ordeal," Joel muses, glancing at his phone screen displaying a photo of you and him at your birthday dinner. A smile creeps across his face as he observes the image, capturing the moment when you kissed his cheek while he smiled at the camera. "I just have a really weird feeling like something's wrong," he groans, stretching his back onto the mattress.
"Well, Sugar's a big girl; I'm sure she'll be okay. Hell, I know how periods go, with Maria and all. Maybe I'll have her check in just in case." Tommy looks out of the window. "This is nice, you know. The two of us. Feels like it's been ages since we've done something like this."
"That's because the last time we were like this, it was your bachelor weekend in Vegas, and you ditched me and fucked off on some strip club crawl with your friends," Joel chides. "Then you had the fucking audacity to crawl into my bed, only to throw up on me in the middle of the night."
"I told you I was sorry! Shit, you could have come out with us, but you were still hung up on Sugar, even then. I don't know if that girl knows just how much you've loved her all these years."
"All that matters is she knows how much I love her now. Besides, I think it's only a matter of time before I ask her to marry me," Joel muses, revealing a ring from his jeans pocket.
Tommy's eyes widen at the sight of the diamond ring, whistling. "Shit, Joel, you're serious. How many carats is that puppy?"
"Just about 2 carats. Do you think she'll like it?" Joel asks nervously.
"I think she would say yes even without that rock; the girl's been crazy about you."
"I'm scared shitless, to be honest," Joel murmurs. "Never would have thought I would be put in this situation again, getting married and all... wondering if it's the right thing to do since my first marriage crashed and burned."
"Well, it's not like you married for love the first time around," Tommy muses, taking another swig.
"Now I have a second lease on life, time to get married for real. For love, this time."
"So, you get the girl, you ask her to marry you. But what about after that?" Tommy asks, taking another swig of Jimmy Bean. "... are you guys planning on having any kids? Do you want any more kids? You're not getting any younger, brother. Surely you don't want to be chasing some toddler when you're pushing 60-"
"I mean, we talked about the prospect of having kids, Sugar's only 36. I'm not gonna deny her of something she may want because I'm older than her." Joel responds with a heavy sigh. "Truthfully, I would give her anything she wanted, no questions asked... but sometimes I think to myself, what about our kids? I don't want to die before they become adults, you know?"
"... but is kids something that she wants? Sugar's a beautiful woman, surely if she wanted a family, she would have already gotten one, you know?" Tommy muses, chuckling to himself. "Maybe she would have gotten her head out of her ass sooner and sought you out beforehand."
"What are you trying to say, Tommy?"
"I'm saying, maybe before you ask her to marry you, you both have all of your cards on the table, brother."
"What if she wants kids, though? What if she wants a family, and I'm too old to give it to her? I don't want to lose her, I can't lose her. Not when I've just gotten her. I didn't work hard for these last ten years only for me to lose the girl because I can't give her what she wants."
"I have a feeling you don't have to worry about losing her, Joel. I do think that you should talk to her, at least."
Joel nods, a knot forming in his stomach as he contemplates Tommy's words. "Yeah, you're right. I need to have an honest conversation with Sugar about this. I owe her that much."
Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "She loves you, man. Just be open and honest with her, and I'm sure you two will figure it out together."
"Yeah, I hope so," Joel murmurs, a mixture of determination and anxiety swirling within him.
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"So, what's the plan for dinner tonight?" Ellie asks, idly toying with Sir Bubbles by the towering cat tree in the family room. "I was thinking of whipping up some homemade Hot Pockets. I saw Sam snacking on them the other day, and they smelled divine!"
"You know, Ellie, you could just buy them at Randalls for $2 instead of going through the trouble of making them."
"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" She grabs her phone, tapping away at Safari. "I found a great recipe that seems easy enough! Why don't we head to Randalls and grab the ingredients I need?"
"The whole beauty of Hot Pockets is the convenience," you groan, shifting on the sofa while flipping through channels. You wince as you manage to sit up. "You're not one to do things half-assed, are you?"
"I'm a Miller; we don't do things halfway. We must embrace chaos in all its glory, you know?" She glances at you from the corner of her eye, frowning at your pained form. "Are you sure you're okay? You look really uncomfortable sitting there."
You offer her a small smile through the discomfort. "Yeah, I'm just fine. It's that time of the month for me, always a bit uncomfortable."
Ellie nods in agreement. "Yeah, I hate it when I have my period. The cramps, especially! How do you deal with it? Midol?"
"Well, I have a condition that makes periods hell for me," you admit. 
"PCOS is a beast I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It's like period symptoms on steroids, honestly. Bad cramps, nausea, heavy period flow, the whole nine yards and then some."
Ellie frowns at that. "How long have you had PCOS?"
"Since my mid-twenties?" you muse, scrolling through your phone. "It's been a while, that's for sure."
"Bullshit! That's like a decade! How can you deal with such painful periods like that every month? I would be yelling at the doctors to rip my uterus out!" Ellie pets Sir Bubbles, her face deep in thought. "I heard that women who have PCOS have a hard time conceiving. Is that why you haven't had any kids yet?"
You snort. "Yeah, well, I haven't been trying to have kids, either."
"But I bet it's different now that you're with Joel, huh? I bet he's been wanting to knock you up since you agreed to be with him," she smirks. "I mean, for someone who built his own house, you'd think he would insulate the walls a little more, make it more soundproof-"
"Ellie-" you grit through your teeth, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"What? I know it's just human nature to want to be intimate with your partner-"
"Ellie, deciding to have kids is a big step in any relationship. It's something that changes your life forever."
"...and is that something you want, Sugar? To have kids?"
"I don't know what I want, really," you respond truthfully, shrugging. "I never really allowed myself to think about the future like this before, and now that I'm with Joel... it's making me question whether or not I would be a good mother. I... I didn't grow up in the most nurturing home when I was a kid, but I do remember promising myself that if I were to have any kids, I wouldn't raise them the way my parents did."
"That's understandable," Ellie quips thoughtfully, settling herself into the couch as she faces you. "I don't think I would ever want kids. It seems so freaking scary and overwhelming; I can't fathom the kind of pressure you're feeling about it. Have you talked to Joel about this?"
"We've talked about it," you admit, the weight of uncertainty evident in your voice. "I don't know if he wants kids, but I'm just not sure if I'm ready. I don't know if I'll ever be ready, you know? I'm scared of disappointing him. What if he sees it as a deal-breaker?"
Ellie nods sympathetically, her demeanor softening. "I get it, Sugar. It's a tough spot to be in. But Joel loves you for you, not for whether you want kids or not. And if he's the right guy, he'll understand your concerns and respect your feelings. Joel's a lot, but I know that this man would do anything for you. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Trust me, I live with the guy."
You exhale slowly, feeling a bit lighter with Ellie's reassurance. "Thanks, Ellie. I guess I need to talk to Joel and figure things out."
"Exactly," Ellie responds with a hopeful smile. "Communication is key. Just be honest with him, and who knows? Maybe you two can find a way through this together."
"You know, you're pretty wise for a little shit, but I do appreciate the words of wisdom, Ellie Bellie. Maybe you're not so bad after all," you tease, a chuckle escaping your lips. "Thanks for the armchair therapy. Should we get a move on to buy the ingredients for these hot pockets of yours?"
"Yeah, yeah," Ellie sighs. "We might as well head to Target, so we can get some Midol too. Grab your key; I'm driving! Can't have you navigating these streets in your condition. Plus, I've been meaning to take the Tessie out on a joyride!"
The next morning, you wake up to find blood on the sheets. Panic grips you as a sharp, stabbing pain surges through your lower body, causing you to double over in agony. You suppress tears as you carefully slip out of Joel's bed, realizing that your flow was so heavy it soaked through to the mattress. Gathering the sheets, you remove your stained pajamas and underwear, wrapping yourself in a towel to avoid waking Ellie down the hall.
On tiptoes, you make your way to the laundry room, groaning with each step. After depositing the soiled linens and clothes into the wash, you hobble back to Joel's bedroom. Sighing, you enter the bathroom and draw a hot bath. Glancing at your phone, it's 5:34 am. You meet your reflection in the mirror, eyes widening at the sight—your skin is pale and clammy. Quickly splashing water on your face, you try to shake off the discomfort.
You recall your recent FaceTime with Joel. You remember the sadness and concern in his eyes as he saw your pain. It's not like any period you've experienced before.
"Baby, I really think you should go to the ER," he pleads. "Wake Ellie up, have her take you-"
"It's just my period, Joel," you assure him, smiling through the pain to ease his worry. "Sometimes they get really bad, maybe this time is one of those times."
"I just wish you wouldn't be so stubborn, Mami. This is really concerning, maybe I should drive back-"
"I just think I should sleep it off. If it's not any better, I'll go to the hospital, okay? Sleep makes everything better," you promise, knowing your stubbornness may hold true. It's not new to you, but how is Joel to know?
"I wish I could keep you on FaceTime all night, just to make sure you're okay, but I don't want to keep you up with all of Tommy's snoring-"
"I'll be fine, baby, don't worry. You have a big day tomorrow, Austin's Entrepreneur of the Year," you tease, hoping to divert the conversation. "I love you so much, Papi. I wish you were here with me."
"I wish I was too, baby," Joel smiles. "Call me tomorrow? And please, if it doesn't get any better-"
"... I'll go straight to the doctor. I promise."
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"Hey, Sugar, you don't look too hot."
"I'm fine, Ellie. Just a little headache," you assure her, managing a weak smile while holding up your Owala water bottle. "Probably just dehydrated, nothing a little water can't fix. I also got my period last night, and it always gives me problems. It's just a bit heavier than usual."
Ellie eyes you with concern. "Maybe it's time we get it checked out. Joel did say-"
"I know, Ellie, but I'm already behind on my reports, and Tess will flip if I don't finish them by the end of the day. I'll tough it out. If it gets worse, I promise I'll get myself checked out. I'll even let you drive me there, okay? Let's just keep this between us for now. I wouldn't want to bother Joel by being a baby about period cramps."
"Well, could you at least try to eat something? I swear the last time I saw you eat was yesterday. Joel's gonna kill me if something happens to you, and I really don't need that kind of stress right now. Not before the apprentice exam," Ellie urges, sliding her glass container into the microwave. "Besides, you can try out the Hot Pockets we made last night!"
"Isn't this supposed to be the other way around? I'm the adult in this equation; I should be looking over you, not the other way around," you chuckle. "What would Joel say if he saw us right now?"
"He would give us his best frowny face and bridal carry you out of here, taking you to the doctor," she replies, taking the seat across from you. "I'm not lying when I tell you that you look sick as hell. You should be at home, resting! I'm really worried about you, Sugar. For real this time. You need to at least eat something so you don't pass out!"
She places one of her creations on a plate, presenting it in front of you with a flourish as she begins to devour her own, inhaling it in a few bites. "Damn, that was good," she exclaims to herself, leaning back in her chair, taking a sip of her Baja Blast. "Come on, Sugar," she pleads, "Eat!"
You take a deep breath as you eye the hot pocket, your stomach churning at the overwhelming smell. With a hesitant smile, you lift it off your plate, taking a small, careful bite to avoid offending Ellie. "Mmm," you say softly, placing it back onto your plate. "You really outdid yourself this time, Ellie!" you commend, pushing the plate away. However, the effort to conceal your discomfort becomes futile as your head starts to spin when you attempt to stand.
Ellie's eyes widen as she quickly rises from her seat. "Sugar-"
"Ellie, I'll be right-"
Before you can reach the door, everything turns black.
"Sugar!" Ellie screams, dropping to her knees as she attempts to lift you, panic evident in her voice. "Somebody, help!"
Bill bursts through the door in an instant, his eyes wild as he assesses the situation. "What the hell happened?"
"I don't know!" Ellie exclaims, cradling your head in her lap as tears stream down her face. "She wasn't looking too good, so I gave her a hot pocket, and she took one bite and fainted! What am I going to do? Joel's going to freak!"
"Bill?" Frank calls out as he enters the breakroom. "What the hell is going on?!"
"Frank," he says calmly, "Call 911. Tell them that someone passed out." He turns his attention back to Ellie, his eyes focused. "Ellie, do you know if she hit her head?" Ellie is frozen in place, her breathing erratic, the weight of the situation settling in.
"Ellie!" Bill shouts, trying to maintain control. "Focus! Did she hit her head or not?"
"I don't know!" she says shakily, her hands trembling. "Everything happened so fast!"
"Bill," Frank says uneasily, "She's bleeding," he points to your lower body, his eyes widening in fear. "It's a lot of blood, fuck, is she... what if-"
"Fuck this!" Bill mutters, urgency in his voice as he picks up your limp body. "Frank, get the van, we need to go to the hospital, NOW." He looks over at Ellie, who is crying uncontrollably. "Ellie, call Joel."
"But Sugar begged me not to call Joel-"
"Joel won't forgive you if you keep him in the dark. Get him on the phone, NOW," he commands, darting towards the door behind Frank. "... and pick up the pace! You're coming with us!"
Ellie grabs her phone from her back pocket, her hands shaking as she scrambles to call Joel. She curses as it goes straight to voicemail. "He's not answering! It's going straight to voicemail-"
"THEN CALL TOMMY, ELLIE!" he shouts as Frank parks near the entrance, engine still running. He hurries out of the driver's seat, opening the back door. "Ellie, sit here! I need you to elevate her head!" 
Ellie jumps into the car, phone in hand. Bill gently places you in the van, positioning your head across Ellie's lap. "Keep it elevated, okay?" Ellie nods, looking at you with concern. "Do you think she's going to be okay?" she whispers, placing a hand on your cheek. "This is all my fault-"
"Ellie," Bill says, heading toward the driver's seat. "This is not the time for that," he steps on the gas, swerving to avoid an oncoming vehicle. "Put Tommy on the phone, now!"
Ellie fumbles with her phone, quickly dialing Tommy's number. As the line rings, Bill navigates the van through the chaotic streets, tension thick in the air.
"Come on, Tommy, pick up," Ellie mutters anxiously, glancing at you still cradled in her lap. After a few tense moments, Tommy's voice crackles through the phone.  
"Ellie? What's happening?"
"It's Sugar. We're on our way to the hospital. Something's wrong," Ellie replies, her voice shaky. "I tried to call Joel but it's going straight to voicemail! Could you put him on the line? Please!"
"Shit, Ellie-" Tommy stammers, "He's about to go on stage-"
"What's going on?" Joel notices Tommy's unease. "Who is it?"
Tommy hesitates as he puts the phone on speaker. "It's Ellie, something's happened at the office-"
"Joel? Dad?" Ellie cries, her voice quivering.
"Ellie? Baby girl, what's wrong?" Joel asks worriedly, peering out to the stage as the emcee begins. "Baby, what's going on?!"
"It's Sugar, something happened at lunch-" she sobs, looking down at your pale form.
Tommy's eyes widen as he witnesses Joel's demeanor change rapidly. "Ellie, what happened to Sugar?" he soothes, trying to get her to calm down through her sobs. "Come on baby, breathe-"
"She passed out at work! I know, she shouldn't have gone in, but she swore that she was fine! I tried to get her to eat something and she looked sick all of a sudden... and then she was on the ground, bleeding! It all happened so fast, I swear! I'm so sorry, Dad! It's all my fault!" she cries.
"Joel," Bill cuts in, honking as he narrowly misses a car he overtakes. "I'm heading over to Austin General, ETA 2 minutes. She's lost a lot of blood." He runs a red light, a barrage of horns erupting from the maneuver. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to get her there."
"You're driving her there? Why didn't you call 911?" Joel demands.
"They would have taken too long, Joel. Minutes we do not have. Trust me, I'll get her there faster than they could," Bill hesitates. "Joel, I think she's-" The line cuts off as Ellie's phone dies.  
"BILL? ELLIE??!" Joel screams into the phone frantically as he runs his hand through his hair. He tries to call Ellie back, only to be met with voicemail. "Fuck!" he shouts, trying to call Bill. "Why aren't they answering?"
"Joel, you're gonna have to tell me what the fuck is going on-"
"Sugar collapsed at work. They're on their way to Austin General now. Grab your shit, we're leaving."
[and it's with my great pleasure to introduce you to our keynote speaker and Austin's Entrepreneur of the Year, Joel Miller!]
"Okay Mr. Miller," the assistant interrupts, hand on his earpiece. "You're up!"
"I have a family emergency, I need to leave," Joel replies, attempting to make a quick exit.
"No can do, Mr. Miller; it's your turn!" The assistant insists, pushing Joel towards the door.
"Are you deaf?!" Joel shouts, forcefully removing the assistant's hands from him. "I already told you, my wife is being taken to the hospital right now-"
"Just get on stage, say your piece for five minutes, and then you can go straight to the hospital," the assistant insists, shoving Joel towards the door, unfazed.
Joel's frustration boils over, and he shoves the assistant back, his anger reaching its peak. "Listen, I don't give a damn about your schedule! My wife needs me, and I'm not wasting another second here!"
The assistant, angered by Joel's defiance, clenches his fists. "You're not going anywhere until you fulfill your obligations. This is important!"
"Joel, we don't have time for this!" Tommy grits, glaring at the assistant. "If we leave now, we can miss the rush on 1-35."
The assistant grabs Joel's forearm, pulling him as he makes his way towards the door that leads to the stage. "You're getting on that stage, give your fucking speech, and then you can fuck off and get to your little wife-"
Joel pulls himself out of his grasp. "Are you fucking kidding me? Don't put your hands on me!"  
The man glares at Joel. "Look asshole, we fucking paid for you to come here, and you're not going to make some half-assed excuse about your sick wife-"
Joel's patience snaps, and he throws a punch, hitting the guy square in the face. "Don't talk about my wife like that!"
"Fuck! You broke my fucking nose!" he shouts, tackling Joel to the ground. He manages to land one good punch before Tommy intervenes, pulling the man off of him and shoving him to the ground. "What the fuck is your problem, man?" he yells as he tries to get up.  
"Joel, are you okay? Come on, let's get the fuck out of here before they call someone!" Tommy hoists Joel onto his feet, his lip split and a bruise forming on his cheek. They run towards the parking garage, Tommy throwing his keys at Joel as they jump in, peeling out of the parking stall. At the corner of Joel's eyes, he sees security guards running along the lot, searching for them.  
"Stop!" one of the guards yells, trying to block the truck at the exit. Joel swerves around, narrowly avoiding the guard as they pass the parking attendant booth. He hits the gas, driving through the parking arms, pieces flying over the dashboard as they merge onto the main road. "Joel, think they'll chase us?" Tommy asks, the tension thick as they speed away. "I don't think Maria will appreciate watching us on a high-speed chase on the evening news-"
"Shut the fuck up, Tommy!" Joel cuts him off, navigating towards the freeway out of Waco, heading to Austin. "Just let me fucking concentrate on the road!"
"Slow down, Joel! Dying on the way there won't help anyone!" Tommy yells as Joel narrowly avoids a car while speeding down the freeway. Fortunately, no police cars are chasing them as they make their way towards Austin. "I can't believe that guy wanted to fight you, and you just started throwing punches!"
"Tommy, not now," Joel grits his teeth, gripping the wheel tightly. "I knew I should've stayed home. If I were there, then-"
Tommy's phone rings, displaying Sarah's face on the screen. He answers the Facetime call, and Sarah's concerned face fills the screen. "Where are you guys?" she asks nervously. "Ellie's phone died, but the hospital just called asking for information. You're her emergency contact, Dad."
"Do you know what's going on?" Joel inquires as he navigates down the freeway. "I don't have my phone, but we're on I-35 right now, should be there in about 30 minutes."
"They can't release any information because we're not family," she says hesitantly. "I'm legally supposed to call her parents, but-"
"You can't call them, Baby. She wouldn't want them there. Tell them she's my wife, and I'm on my way," Joel insists.
"Dad, I don't think we should lie about that-" Sarah expresses her concern.
"I'm all she has, baby. I can't be kept in the dark. Were you there when it happened?"
"No, but Dad, she was bleeding. There was a lot of blood-"
"Damn it!" Joel slams his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes wide as he overtakes a few cars, stepping on the gas. "I should've followed my gut and stayed home. She was already in pain when I left yesterday!"
"Well, speeding down the freeway isn't helping, Dad!" Sarah shouts through the phone. "We're all concerned for Sugar, not just you. I sent Tess to the hospital to bring chargers and Bill and Frank's phones. I need you to relax; it's not going to help her if you two get into an accident!"
"I can't help it, baby girl. I love her, and it's hard to think straight. All I'm thinking about is how scared I am. I can't lose her. I've already known how it feels losing her all these years; I don't think I can survive a second time."
"I know, Dad," Sarah replies. "Just get to her in one piece, okay? I'll let you know if I hear anything back."
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"What do you mean I can't go in with her?" Ellie groans, attempting to keep pace with the gurney as they rush you down the hallway towards a room, with Bill and Frank following behind.
The doctor raises an eyebrow at her. "Are you her family?"
"She's my sister!" Ellie asserts. "I was adopted by her family!"
"Doctor," the nurse interjects urgently. "She's lost a lot of blood; she's going to need a transfusion... she might be in the middle of a hemorrhage-"
"If you know she needs a transfusion, then what are you waiting for?"
"The patient has O Negative, and we don't have any on hand-"
"I have O Negative!" Ellie tells the nurse, showing her wrist. "I found out my blood type after an accident as a kid. Take it from me, please!"
The doctor eyes Ellie warily. "... and you're sure she's your sister?"
"Not by blood, but by heart. Please, doctor. She's important to me, and I know she would do the same for me in a heartbeat," Ellie pleads.
The doctor sighs, nodding his head in agreement. "Fine, if you say that she's your sister, then I'll just take your word for it. Nurse, prep her for a blood draw. She's a match."
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"Hey! You can't park here!" The hospital security guard shouts as Joel and Tommy hastily exit the car, leaving it right outside the ER. Joel sprints through the hospital, Tommy trailing behind him. He reaches the receptionist's stand, his chest heaving. "Where is she? Where is my wife?!" he demands, attempting to jump over the partition, with Tommy trying to hold him back.
"Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down," the receptionist replies, glaring at both of them. "I'm going to need a name."
Joel hesitates but states your first name, adding 'Miller' as your last. Tommy shoots him a look, signaling the obvious lie, but Joel gives him a warning glare. The receptionist's eyes narrow at Joel. "She was just brought in 20 minutes ago. She's currently under observation but will be put in a room soon. Should be room 203. You can wait for her if you'd like."
Joel breathes a sigh of relief. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"
"I don't, but the attending Doctor should be with her. He could answer any of your questions," she hands him a clipboard. "I'm going to need you to fill this out for me with her information, and then you can head down the hall and take a left. Her room should be a few doors down that corridor." She assesses his disheveled state. "Sir, are you needing assistance as well?"
"I'm fine," Joel dismisses her as he fills out the form. He takes out his Amex and hands it to the receptionist. "I don't have her insurance card, but please put all charges on this card."
The receptionist's eyes widen at the color of his Amex. "Certainly, sir."
Joel strides down the hallway towards room 203, catching a glimpse of Ellie in the room adjacent to yours, a nurse tending to her bandaged wrist. His heart lurches at the sight, but he pushes the worry aside for the moment. As he approaches your room, he sees Bill and Frank sitting on a nearby bench, their expressions heavy with concern. Frank rests his head on Bill's shoulder, a distant sadness clouding his eyes.
"Bill!" Joel's voice echoes in the hallway. "Thank you for bringing her here!" He notices their somber demeanor and furrows his brow. "What happened-"
Bill hesitates, his gaze flickering with reluctance. "Joel, I think it's best if you go inside and talk to the doctor," he suggests softly, his voice strained with emotion. "He'll be able to explain everything to you." He offers a weak smile, though it fails to mask the worry etched on his face. "Frank and I are gonna head back to the office, alright?"
"Yeah," Joel stammers, nodding. "Thanks again, Bill... for everything."
"Anytime, Joel," Bill responds, his eyes watery. "Take care of her, okay? She's gonna need you."
Joel's stomach churns with apprehension, but he nods in understanding. With a final glance at Bill and Frank, he takes a deep breath and steps into your room, steeling himself for whatever news awaits him. He nods as he walks into your hospital room, audibly gasping at the sight of you, unconscious. A doctor is tending to you, engaged in conversation with a nurse. He turns around at the sound of the gasp.
"Mr. Miller, I presume?"
"What's going on with her, Doc?" Joel asks, his face reflecting a mix of worry and tears.
The doctor eyes Joel silently, a heavy sigh escaping from his chest.  
"Why are you not telling me anything? She's my wife-"
The doctor, catching on to Joel's distress, gives a serious look. "Mr. Miller, let's maintain a level of seriousness here."
"But she's practically my wife! I'd give my life for her, you understand? Please, man to man, wouldn't you do the same for someone you love?" he pleads, Tommy, looking away from his brother to keep himself from breaking down.  
The doctor, unyielding, emphasizes, "We have legal protocols to safeguard those who can't speak for themselves. I can't divulge information to just anyone; there are procedures that must be followed for the well-being of the patient."
"Well, what can you tell me, then?" Joel's voice wavers as he pleads with the doctor. "I'm in the dark here, doctor. Please," Joel begs. "Just give me something. Tell me she's going to be okay."
The doctor takes a deep breath before delivering the news, "She was pregnant, Mr. Miller. She has Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and is anemic. Due to significant blood loss, we had to perform a blood transfusion. Luckily, someone who accompanied her was a match."
Joel's heart sinks as the words hit him like a ton of bricks. "Was? So, Sugar and the baby... Are they okay?"
The doctor's demeanor shifts, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and gravity. "Mr. Miller," he begins cautiously, "Sugar lost a lot of blood during the procedure. She was suffering from a hemorrhage and was going into shock. I did everything in my power to save them both, but... I'm sorry, Mr. Miller. The baby didn't make it. Sugar almost didn't make it out herself. Without that blood transfusion-" He trails off, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air.  
"Ellie..." Joel whispers, realization dawning on him as he connects the dots. "That's why she's bandaged up?"
The doctor leans in, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Yes," he confirms, his tone somber. "What we did was highly unethical and illegal. I don't appreciate being lied to, but your daughter's quick thinking saved Sugar's life. Despite the miscarriage, Ellie's actions kept Sugar alive. It was incredibly brave of her. I'm willing to keep this between us if any issues arise. Sugar is still with us because of her. That girl has nerves of steel," he chuckles softly, his gaze distant with memories. "Reminds me of my daughter. Us fathers need to stick together, right?"
Joel nods, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on you lying on the hospital bed. "I knew something was wrong... I should have stayed back. I can't imagine the pain she must have been in-"
"Unfortunately, this is highly common for women with her condition," the doctor interjects, his tone gentle yet matter-of-fact. "As much as we can dwell on the what-ifs, most times the baby won't make it past the first trimester. It does give us a little hope that she was able to conceive to begin with. Have you two been trying long?"
Joel's shoulders sag slightly at the doctor's words, a mixture of grief and understanding washing over him. "We've spoken about it, but only decided to try recently," he admits, his voice tinged with sadness. "But we never imagined it would end like this."
The doctor offers a sympathetic nod, his expression reflecting empathy. "I'm sorry for your loss, Joel. Losing a child is never easy, but please know that you're not alone in this. If either of you need support or someone to talk to, we have resources available. I want to have Sugar spend a day or two here, just to make sure her blood count gets back to normal. You're welcome to stay as long as you need to, okay? I'll make sure of it."
Joel manages a faint smile, grateful for the doctor's compassion. "Thank you," he murmurs, his gaze drifting back to you, his heart heavy with sorrow yet filled with love and determination. 
The doctor nods, glancing at Joel's disheveled appearance and the split lip. "I can get someone to fix that for you if you'd like. Waking up to see you like this might frighten Sugar. You must have been through hell to get here."
"Pretty much," Tommy says sadly, his eyes filled with tears. "Thank you for saving Sugar, doc. We really owe you one."
The doctor nods. "Yeah, well, thank your little girl; she's the real hero today." He gestures behind Tommy and Joel. Ellie stands at the doorway, nervously fiddling with the bandage on her wrist. Giving Joel one last nod, the doctor makes his way to the door, giving Ellie a comforting pat on her shoulder as he walks away. Joel turns his attention back to Ellie, a sad look on his face as he tries not to lose his shit in front of his brother and his daughter.  
"Ellie-" he starts, his voice shaky. "Baby-"
"Oh, it was nothing, you know, just another day at the office," she casually says, downplaying herself. "Besides, she's family, and we do anything for family." 
"You're damn right we do," Tommy boasts, pulling Ellie into a side hug. "You saved the day, Girlie."
"You sure did," Joel cries, pulling her into a tight hug, his tears soaking into her hair. "You did so good, baby girl. Thank you, thank you, baby."
Ellie hugs Joel back, sobbing into his chest and clinging to his shirt. "I was so scared, Joel. It made me think about what happened with Marlene, and I just froze! If Bill didn't step in, I don't know what would have happened—"
"Ellie—"
"... and I told her that she should tell you. She looked so sick, so I told her that she needed to eat something, and I gave her a hot pocket—"
"A hot pocket?"
"Yeah, we made it last night, and even then, I knew something was up. She was always wincing and flinching in pain, told me that she was on her period—"
"Ellie. She was bleeding out, then. It—" Joel takes her face in his hands, his expression serious. "She was pregnant, baby girl. She has a condition that makes her bleed heavily. Fuck, she must have been in so much pain—"
"Wait," Ellie says, her eyes reflecting shock. "What do you mean, she was pregnant? Does this mean that she lost the baby?" she says solemnly, turning her attention to you. "Joel, I'm so sorry, maybe if I had been more stubborn and firm with her, maybe-"
"Ellie, trust me when I say that none of this was your fault, baby girl," Joel pulls her into his chest as she sobs, his hand soothing her back. "These things happen all the time with women that have the same condition as her. Honestly, I'm just happy that she had you to watch over her, you did everything perfectly, alright? No more tears, baby. Sugar's still here with us, and that's all that matters, okay?"
"Okay," Ellie murmurs into his chest. "Joel, what's going to happen now? are you going to tell her? We need to tell her, right?"  
"Why don't you head back to the office with Tommy and let me worry about that, alright?" Joel responds, sighing as he sits at the edge of your bed. "I think you've had too much excitement for one day, I can talk to her when she wakes up, okay? Don't worry."
Tommy places a comforting hand on Joel's shoulder, pulling him into a side hug. "I'm really sorry, brother. If there's anything you both need, just let me know, okay?"
Joel nods. "Thanks, Tommy."
"Ready to go, Ellie?" Tommy asks, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "We better get moving before they tow my truck out front." Ellie nods as they both give you and Joel one last glance, making their way out of your hospital room.
"Let me know if you need me to bring you anything from home, alright?" Ellie tells Joel, giving him one last smile. "Take care of yourself. I love you."
"I love you too, baby. Get some rest, okay?"
Joel looks back at them helplessly as a sob escapes his mouth. He buries his face in his hands, finally allowing himself to fall completely apart. As heartbreaking as the miscarriage is, the thought of losing you at the same time is unbearable. How could he have turned a blind eye to the pain you were going through? How could he have almost lost you, just like that? The guilt and anguish weigh heavily on his shoulders as he grapples with the harsh reality of the situation.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he cries, reaching for your hand. Joel presses a soft kiss on your forehead, his tears falling upon your face. He wipes them away as he settles himself on the seat next to your bed, his eyes never leaving your face as he waits for you to wake up. Every fiber of his being yearns for you to open your eyes, to assure him that you're still here, still fighting alongside him.
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