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#shoutout to you if youre still reading these tags
hajihiko · 1 day
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Hey. So, I saw your Chiaki & Fuyuhiko comic that I like to call "Look on the Bright Side" (since it didn't have an official name in the post itself), and I loved it. I loved seeing Nanami & Kuzuryu interact with each other with the former comforting the latter on Peko and complimenting on how brave he was to save his friend, the scene between Fuyuhiko & Peko during the latter's execution, and then the scene of you making a throwback to your DR3 rewrite from your Talky Talky Tuesday content where the DR2 cast witness Human Chiaki's death and chose not to help her because of how awful Junko's influence on them was. It was heartwarming, bittersweet, and terrifying all at the same time, and as @/self-in-dulled-gent put it in their reblog of the comic, the 4th & 5th panels depicting your DR3 rewrite is a cool and visceral indication of how far the DR2 cast had fallen into despair. Heck, both the comic & the rewrite even serve as inspiration towards my au/rewrite/reimagine of DR3's Despair Arc & how Junko corrupts the DR2 cast into despair. So, thank you so much for the inspiration. I really appreciate it.
With all that in mind, I have some questions I wanna ask you regarding both the comic & DR3 rewrite, if you don't mind.
May I have your permission to do a review on your DR3 Rewrite post for my Advian Reads & Reviews content (which in case you're curious about, AR&R is reading review series where I read something, like fanfiction for example, while also doing a review on it at the same time, giving my thoughts on whatever I'm reviewing as well as potentially even sharing my own stories)?
Will you ever showcase the bonus panel of the rest of the class witnessing Chiaki's death that you mentioned in the comic's tags?
Who is the 5th person on the right between Kazuichi & Hiyoko in the 4th panel (I'm assuming it's Sonia based on the hairstyle, but I thought I'd ask for some confirmation)?
Will we ever get to see the dialogue of Chiaki not resenting Hajime/Izuru for not helping her you also mentioned in the comic's tags?
Follow up on that previous question, do you think it's possible that we might also get to see if Chiaki resents her classmates for not helping her, or if she would also get it with them like she did with Hajime/Izuru?
How exactly does Junko kill Chiaki in front of her classmates? Does she still have her go through her execution like in canon, or does she kill her in a different way, and if so, then how? I ask because I saw Nanami had blood coming from her eyes & mouth (making it look like Junko literally pulled her eyes out), there's blood on her hoodie & left thigh, and she appears to have been stabbed on her right side.
And those are my questions. In regards to gaining your permission to review your DR3 rewrite, if you do grant permission, great! I'll be sure to credit you and give you a shoutout too if you do. And if you don't, then I'm content with that and will understand and respect the reason behind your refusal, whatever that reason may be. Feel free to respond back to me whenever you get the chance. Thank you and have a wonderful day/afternoon/night. 🤗💕❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖💕🤗
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that's one heck of an ask so I'm using a readmore:
Thank you! I remember that comment hehe I'm really glad people like it
1: sure! Just know that I'm like, you know, just a fan and a hobbyist and not even really a writer so I'm not saying my rewrite is more right than anything else!
2: the bonus panel was actually everyone else's deaths (in SDR2) since they all sort of died alone, too. But it didn't feel relevant enough, I prrrrrrrrobably don't have the sketch anymore
3: yep that's Sonia
4: I'll be totally real i don't remember what I was thinking there at all. Sssssorryyyyyy
5: I think Chiaki, if she got to see the events of SDR2 as the AI, wouldn't resent her classmates so much as feel sorry for them and be disappointed. At the same time though I think she might be shocked at what they're capable of. Maybe she can't help but be a bit bitter, who knows. Hajime/Izuru is a different deal since that guy literally got his brains scrambled, can't really blame him. (sort of like deleting all the save data, maybe?)
6: the blood and amounts of it was more about the drama lol. But I thought the obstacle was like, a little too fantastical, not serious enough, so in my rewrite she straight up beats Chiaki to death with some kind of instrument. I think the image of Junko doing something so realistic (and slow) while everyone watches passively is even worse.
Thanks for asking beforehand! 💙
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paradimeart · 2 years
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s4 blackarachnia based on the transmetal2 design from bw
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daz4i · 7 months
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I'm gonna let you in on a badly kept secret. most of my dazai analysis is truly just me projecting. but being decent enough at bullshitting to make it sound convincing so ppl usually end up agreeing with my takes
#what i lack in actual reading comprehension and analysis abilities i make up for in charisma and fake confidence#ahdjfllhh or maybe my projections just fit! maybe i accidentally do make good analysis! or at least offer alternative readings!#anyway i was thinking abt his relationship with pain again. and i started writing an essay in my head#before realizing I'm basically describing my own relationship with it. and that my experiences are not universal esp in regards to that#but just bc they're not universal doesn't mean they're nonexistent! who's to say dazai doesn't have them as well 😩#fr tho i think with a character like him that hides a lot of himself and his true feelings. insisting on one 'canon' reading is dumb#the whole point is you view him through your own personal experience. imo. that's what he'd want too#the emptiness inside him is meant to be filled by his audience. whether inside the story or outside it. i think.#that's why he is one thing around fyodor and another around atsushi and i see him one way and you see him in another one#and all these readings are right and all these versions are still him. you don't know what's inside the donut after all#but again :) even this part could be just me projecting :) but see how nicely i bullshitted through it to make it sound deep?#(<- being sincere but hiding it with irony as to not get rejected. as one does) (<- admits it bc who tf would get this far into my tags)#(but thank you if you did ily) (also shoutout to anyone who ever validated my unhinged analysis/projection mwah)
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vanillabat99 · 1 year
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Just a heads-up that the queue might run out in the next day or two!! I haven't been finding much to put in there and I've been doing a lot of sleeping lately, so it's been falling behind. I need to go through my following list and clear out inactive pages and try to get things going again. If you have any blog or tag recommendations, I'm all ears!!
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the-boy-meets-evil · 4 months
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all roads lead back to you | c.sc (scoups)
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(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)
pairing: ex!seungcheol (scoups) x f!reader genre: exes to lovers | angst, smut rating: explicit - minors DNI word count: ~10.6k warnings: these are exes and the relationship ended badly, but we're healing, drinking, midnight kisses, reader is mentioned as wearing a skirt & tights, making out, seungcheol picks reader up, body worship, slight nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), choking, cheol has a big dick (i don't make the rules), unprotected sex (they talk about it, but don't do this), multiple orgasms & overstimulation (f. receiving), aftercare
a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 11 - cabin vacation. i'm not really sure what happened, something about scoups just makes me blackout and write too much (i only started this 2 days ago). also shoutout to @tbzhub for saying we'd do this together lmao. thank you to @gyuwoncheol, @wonwussy, & @wooahaeproductions for helping me land on cheol for this fic. also, just for fun, tagging some scoups enjoyers because i'm nothing if not a menace: @ugh-yoongi, @seungkwansphd, @wongyuseokie, @beomcoups, @horanghater, @cheolism
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The holidays are usually your favorite time of year. Sure, they’re really hectic and there’s always way too much to do without nearly enough time to do it. But, you still love it. Love being around friends and family. Love how everyone seems to acknowledge that any problems can wait for the new year. This is a time for joy and happiness. A time to celebrate all the wonderful things that did happen and leave the bad in the year you’re leaving behind. 
This time of year also brings around an annual trip that you take with friends. A trip to a secluded cabin where you can all just disconnect. Where you can sit by the fireplace and read. Where you can go to the nearby resort to ski or snowboard. Where you can drink hot cocoa and swap stories and just enjoy the company without the bustle of the city. It’s one of your favorite weekends every time the holidays roll around. 
Not this year. 
This year, your friends decide that they want to make the group a little bigger and spend a long weekend, including New Year’s Eve, together. Which is great, you’re single and there’s nobody else you’d rather ring the New Year in with. Except for one problem. Your ex is also coming. It’s been a little over a year since you broke up, so you know it’s time to move on. Moving on feels a lot harder when he decides he’s going to come to the cabin weekend again this year. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, you were friends before you dated. Didn’t think anything could stop you from being friends after. Didn’t actually think there would be an after, if you’re honest. And you’re definitely not going to be the one to back out or admit you’re still not really over it. 
So, that’s why you’re sitting in a car with Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mimi, headed off to the cabins that your friends booked for an extended long weekend. You’re just thankful that Wonwoo offered you a spot in his car on the way up. Makes it a lot easier. Even if it means Jihoon and Mimi are currently in each other’s space in the backseat as she shows him something on her phone. It’s not that you mind how cute they are together, it’s just still weird to see Jihoon acting like that with anyone. She seems to have waltzed in and melted any defenses he had.
From his position in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your thigh. You look over at him, grateful for the reminder that you’re not alone in all of this. Grateful that he swore up and down to make sure you never felt awkward the whole weekend. Maybe it won’t be so bad, you think, as you queue up more songs for the drive. That’s the best part about being in the front seat. You get to control the music and Wonwoo started the trip by telling Jihoon and Mimi just to roll with it. Not that they’re paying all that much attention, but it was a nice thought all the same. 
The drive up is uneventful. Wonwoo navigates the winding back roads with a practiced ease. You sigh happily, taking in all the trees dusted with snow and the winter wonderland all around as you leave most of your troubles behind. There’s something almost refreshing about being out here. Like the air is crisper and everything is stiller. Wonwoo would make a smartass comment about how there’s more trees, less pollution, and a lot fewer people. So, of course all those things are true. You think it’s more, something about the magic of Christmas and the New Year. 
Your smile falls the second you pull up to the main cabin because you can see that Seungcheol’s car is already there. Figures he would not only drive, but beat you there. You try to set that aside, though, because the place is beautiful. It’s set up with a main cabin where you can hang out, cook, play games, or do whatever you want. Then, there are separate small cabins, mostly just with bedrooms and bathrooms, to sleep in. Nayeon, bless her, took care of figuring out the sleeping arrangements for everyone. At least that would be easy. 
Jihoon and Mimi are out of the car almost as soon as it stops, even if Jihoon grumbles about how his legs are stiff and the air is cold. It takes one smile from Mimi and he’s smiling back, grabbing their bags from the car to head for the main cabin. Meanwhile, Wonwoo adjusts his glasses and makes sure everything is turned off before getting out of the car to stretch. When he meets you at the trunk, his gaze is soft. 
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks. 
You sigh and pull out your suitcase, with a little help from your friend. “No.” 
“We shouldn’t have come,” Wonwoo says.
“Just because I’m being a baby doesn’t mean you should’ve stayed away,” you reassure him.
“You’re not being a baby,” he says with a frown. 
“Still,” you press. “We’ve been broken up for a year. There’s going to be a lot of people here, it’ll be fine.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Wonwoo relents. “He didn’t bring anyone, did he?” 
“No, Nayeon said it’s just him. She’s worried about me too,” you say with a playful eye roll. “She’s got me staying in a cabin with you, her, and Joshua.”
“I’m glad we’re at least staying together,” Wonwoo says.
“I’m gonna be fine, Wonwoo, you worry too much,” you insist. 
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You get through the first night and breakfast the next morning without having to say a single word to Seungcheol. It’s been awhile since you last saw some of your friends, so there’s a lot to catch up on. The group is also pretty large, which makes it easier to blend in. Everything, even something as simple as making a meal, is kind of a process, too. You’ve always been pretty comfortable in the kitchen and offer to help cook. Seungcheol can’t say the same. It feels like maybe it’ll be smooth and you can just do your own separate things without it being a big deal. Like you can both just agree to give each other space during the trip and not be awkward.
That lasts until the afternoon on the first full day, unfortunately. 
Even though a lot of people take time off between Christmas and New Year’s, a decent portion of the group decides a Friday will still be less busy on the slopes. They want to get some runs in earlier in the day before whatever everyone wants to do later. Seungcheol, thankfully, was one of the first to say he wanted to go. Not surprising, you know he likes really anything where he can be active. Wonwoo was also quick to say he wanted to, after asking you if that was okay. You, again, insisted it was fine. 
You’re reading your book by the fire, periodically watching Jun, Nayeon, and Mimi play cards on the other side of the room, when Seungcheol comes hobbling back in. Minghao just behind him, scolding him for not waiting and ruining the peaceful atmosphere. 
“What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, looking up from the game.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Seungcheol says shortly.
“He rolled his ankle,” Minghao interjects. 
“Now you see why I stayed behind,” Jun says.
“I’m fine, really,” Seungcheol insists. 
“You should ice it just in case. And keep it elevated,” Minghao says as heads off to the kitchen. 
Trying to keep your face straight, you mark the page in your book and get up. All you want is for this to be as subtle as possible. But, Jun is also in the room.
“Where are you going?” Jun asks. 
“Oh, just back to my room to get something,” 
It’s a lie and you’re pretty sure they know it, but you also don’t care. You’re not going to stay in the room with an injured Seungcheol because he gets pouty when he can’t do exactly what he wants. This is going to be one of those times. There’s no way he’s going to be happy sitting still when he knows his other friends are still out on the trails. Especially when it’s such a minor thing. You hope that they all understand your decision to just let them deal with him and whatever he has to say.
When you feel like it’s been enough time, you venture back into the main cabin, portable charger in hand, for good measure. Not that you think anyone will ask what it is that you needed from your room, but it’s always a good idea to be prepared. Just in case. At first glance, you think the main living area is empty. That makes you sigh in a little relief. Not that you want to be alone when this is a trip for friends. It’s just nice to have a quiet moment in all the chaos. You think you’ll be able to get back to your book, at least for a little, until you notice someone laying on the couch. Not someone. Seungcheol. Quickly, you turn around, hoping he doesn’t see you. And it would probably work, if you didn’t bump into the corner of a table on your way out.
His head snaps up and swivels to look at you. “What - oh.” 
“Sorry, I was just leaving,” you say.
“Can you really not be in the same room as me?” he asks. He sits up so that he can look at you more easily.
“I’ve been in the same room as you plenty,” you point out.
“Not alone,” he persists. 
“What reason would we possibly have to be alone together?” you wonder. 
“You don’t have to be so…” he starts.
“So, what?” you press.
“So…like this,” Seungcheol finishes, somewhat lamely.
“How should I be?” you ask. 
“I don’t know, just, not like this. We were always comfortable with each other, even before…” he starts and stops suddenly.
“Before we dated? Before you shattered my heart? Before you decided it was easier to shut me out instead of just talking to me?” you ask, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 
“I know,” he admits.
“You just abandoned me,” you say quietly. “I needed you and you weren’t there. I never would’ve left you like that.” 
“I know. I made so many mistakes. So many things I can’t take back,” he says. He actually looks remorseful. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. “I’m so sorry for that. I would take it all back if I could. I’d do everything differently.”
“This was a mistake,” you say.
“Talking to me?” he asks.
“Coming on this trip at all,” you admit and turn away. “I have to go.” 
With your back to him, you miss the way his face falls at your admission. Don’t see the way he considers getting up to follow after you. It’s for the best, anyway. Your heart's already breaking again just from one conversation. Just from seeing the emotion on his face. The one face you thought you’d always know better than your own. It’s amazing how everything can change in a single moment. How something that took years to build, first as friends and then as a couple, can all come tumbling down in a second. A split second or a fork in the road. One wrong turn and it’s all gone. 
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You make it through to Saturday without any more forced conversations with your ex-boyfriend. Manage to sit on the opposite end of the table from him during meals. Wait until he commits to playing a game or watching something before you decide what to do yourself. Still, you feel very included in everything with different groups of your friends because there are plenty of people there to hang out with. If you take the forced conversation with him out of the equation, it’s actually been a pretty good trip, overall. Not nearly as hard as you expected it to be. 
“I’m gonna go check out the lodge at the mountain, anyone wanna come?” Wonwoo throws out. There’s a smattering of lukewarm responses. Mostly, people say they may hit the trails a little bit later after they’ve had a lazy morning.
“I’ll come,” you offer. 
“Shocking that you two are a pair,” Nayeon jokes from her spot on the couch, curled up with Joshua.
“That’s enough out of you,” you joke back before turning to Wonwoo. “I’ll go grab my coat.”
“Can you grab my hat? I think I left it in my room,” Wonwoo requests.
“Sure,” you agree. 
When you meet Wonwoo in the entranceway, you find your eyes back on the living area. Almost like you can feel someone watching you. But, when nobody is, you figure that you must have imagined it, not noticing the way Seungcheol’s jaw tightens or his mouth turns down in frown. He had just been looking and he wasn’t liking what he saw. Instead, having missed all that, you fall into step beside one of your closest friends and head out of the cabin.
“It’s not a far walk, but we can drive if you want,” Wonwoo offers, sticking his hands into his pockets.
“No, a walk would be nice. It’s not as cold today,” you say.
One of the best parts of being friends with Wonwoo is the sheer comfort you feel with him. It’s always been like this, since the beginning of your friendship. Always just as easy to say the hard things to him as it is to sit in silence. Always easy to avoid the hard things, because he seems to find it easy to to tell when you don’t want to say something. Unfortunately, it’s also easy for him to push you to speak, even when you’re not sure if you want to. Like now, as soon as you reach the Lodge. 
“Are you doing okay?” Wonwoo asks as the pair of you make your way over to a stand selling hot drinks. 
“I’m assuming you don’t mean from the walk over here,” you deflect while you look at the menu.
“No,” Wonwoo answers simply. 
“I’m fine,” you insist, stepping up to the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and whatever he wants.”
“You don’t have to…” Wonwoo starts, falling silent at the look you give him. He sighs, knowing you won’t relent. “Just a plain hot chocolate.” 
“Thanks,” you say as you pay.
“You’re not fine. I can see it on you,” Wonwoo says.
You pause when someone calls out your name for the order. “I really am doing fine. The only hard part was getting sucked into a short conversation with him yesterday.”
“What did he say?” Wonwoo asks. 
“Nothing much,” you say and meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You can tell you need to carry on. So, you recount the conversation as best as you can remember.
“He misses you,” Wonwoo surmises. 
“And if he does? What does it matter?” you ask.
“You miss him too,” Wonwoo points out. “That’s why it matters.”
“I don’t,” you argue. “He broke my heart.” 
“What happened? A year ago when you broke up, what happened?” Wonwoo asks.
“You know what happened,” you say with a sigh.
“No, I don’t. I know he left, somehow, but I don’t know what really happened. You’ve always kept that part of the story close to the vest,” Wonwoo says.
“Because it still hurts,” you plead. 
“Maybe it’s time you let someone else take a little of that pain by talking about it,” Wonwoo suggests. You find a table to sit down as you’re considering sharing.
Ultimately, it would be nice to get someone else’s perspective. To get someone who knows you both, and cares about you both, to weigh in on everything that happened. Even if Wonwoo seemingly took your side, you know he still talks to Seungcheol as well. With a steadying breath, you launch into the whole explanation, at least your side of it. It’s time, past time, honestly, that you get this off your chest.
It was great, at the beginning. The two of you were friends first, for years, before something shifted and you started to see each other differently. Suddenly stepping a little more carefully around each other. Not really knowing what to do or what to expect. Not sure if it would ruin the friendship to admit that there were feelings there. Until one day, Seungcheol finally made the move, asked you out on a date, and made sure you knew that’s what he was asking. It got very serious, very quickly. Far more quickly than either of you expected. But, that’s what happens when you start as friends. There are so many things you already know, so many things you don’t have to ask, so many memories already embedded into your relationship. Things were good. It wasn’t like they were perfect. There were little fights here and there, but nothing that felt that serious. Nothing that felt like a dealbreaker. 
It’s hard to admit, even to Wonwoo, that you saw Seungcheol as your forever. As someone you wouldn’t let go of once you had him. He was your safe space without ever being boring. Your protector without ever being one of those toxic assholes. Your biggest cheerleader without being condescending. It was way too early in the relationship to be feeling like he was your forever, so you didn’t ever say it to him, but you felt it. Felt it deep in your bones. He was also vulnerable with you in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. At least anyone else that you’d seen. The first time he just let you take care of him, let you see him as something other than someone strong and in control, it made you fall even more deeply for him. It didn’t hurt that he nearly stopped your heart with how stupid hot he was. That gets a snort out of Wonwoo before you continue on. 
Suddenly, everything changed. Seungcheol withdrew into himself and stopped confiding in you. He could always be a bit moody, a little deep in his feelings. Still, he would always talk to you about it. Would always share with you what he was feeling. Sometimes it was something so simple as you getting a little too much attention, which he didn’t like. He could be a little jealous. It was something you worked on with him. Sometimes it was a conversation with a friend weighing heavily or something going wrong at work. No matter what, he always talked to you about it. Until he didn’t. Until he just stopped saying much of anything. Until he got a bit secretive with everything in his life and you didn’t really recognize him anymore. His phone was always turned over. Not fully paying attention to you when you were in group settings. Not making plans the way he used to.
“What did you do?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I confronted him,” you say. Simple. It was so simple. “I told him it wasn’t okay and that I deserved better. That we always got through things together and that we needed to get back to that.” 
“Mature of you,” Wonwoo says.
“I thought so,” you say and take a steadying breath. “He agreed, even. Told me that I did deserve better.”
“So what…” Wonwoo asks, but trails off. Obviously confused. 
“He said that it was too much. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved. That I would be better off finding someone else who could,” you say and wipe away the stray tear. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Wonwoo says. 
“I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” you admit. “Like I was broken because someone didn’t want to love me.”
“You’re not broken,” Wonwoo insists softly, hand reaching out for one of yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But it’s okay to admit when you need help. Or when you need a friend.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just hard.”
“I know, but I’m here,” Wonwoo assures you. 
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Saturday night finds Wonwoo and Seungcheol as the last two awake in the living room, finishing their drinks in relative silence. It used to be easy for Seungcheol, sitting with his friend like this. Yet, it hasn’t been, not in the last year since he broke up with you. Not since Wonwoo made it clear that they were friends, but he was sticking by you no matter what. Not that Wonwoo’s been cold or rude or anything. That would have made it easier, Seungcheol thinks. No, instead he’s been mostly the same. Still just as friendly and supportive. All it does is make him feel worse. Why can’t Wonwoo just say what’s really on his mind?
“How was the lodge earlier?” Seungcheol asks.
“Hmm?” Wonwoo asks, eyes seeming to come back into focus as they look over at him.
“The lodge? You went over there earlier. I was just asking how it was,” Seungcheol repeats.
“Oh, fine. We just ended up getting hot chocolate and talking. Kinda watched people coming and going from the trails,” Wonwoo says like it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t. 
“Are you two…are you…” Seungcheol starts and stops the question several times.
“Dating?” Wonwoo asks, taking pity on his friend. “No. She’s been single since…”
“I broke her heart?” Seungcheol supplies humorlessly. 
“I wasn’t going to say that.” 
“No? It seems like someone spending that much time with her would say that.” 
Wonwoo regards him for a second, adjusts his glasses like he’s buying time to think. “What happened? With you and her, what happened?”
“I’m sure you’ve already heard it from her.” The answer is short. Seungcheol doesn’t want to play these games, not with someone that’s so obviously close to you.
“I’m not asking to hear it from her. I’m asking to hear it from you,” Wonwoo presses. He’s insistent, but his eyes are soft. It’s easy to wonder if it’s time to share. 
“I got scared,” Seungcheol admits. “And jealous.” 
“Of what? Or of who?” Wonwoo asks.  Seungcheol takes a long sip of his drink and grimaces a little. He isn’t buzzed enough for this. Can’t really believe he’s entertaining sharing in the first place. But, well, isn’t this what he’s hoping for? Another chance?
“Of everything and everyone,” Seungcheol says. “She was so kind, so patient, so good to me. Good for me. Just the best person I’ve ever known. I just thought that one day, she’d wake up and she’d realize that she deserved more than me.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “Why did you think that?” 
“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits. “I guess, well I know I can be difficult. That I get in my head a lot. I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about what I’m feeling. She made a lot of that feel easier, which made me fall harder for her. But, then she makes a lot of people feel that way, doesn’t she? Like she’s the only one who will understand. I don’t even think I was the only friend of ours that had feelings for her. I just, I don’t know, it sounds so fucking dumb now, but I couldn’t compete.” 
“It wasn’t a competition, Cheol,” Wonwoo says.
“I know that,” Seungcheol insists.
Wonwoo fixes him with a stare. “Do you? She’s a lot of things, maybe a lot that make people interested in her. But, she chose you. She chose you and kept choosing you, every chance she got. I don’t think that ever would’ve changed.” 
“Do you want me to feel worse?” Seungcheol asks, voice rising a bit. “I already told her that I would go back and change things if I could, but I can’t.” 
“Do you still love her?” Wonwoo asks, voice so quiet. Yet, it carries all the same.
“Of course I do,” Seungcheol says.
“Then figure out a way to tell her,” Wonwoo replies.
“It’s not that easy,” Seungcheol says. “And aren’t you supposed to be telling me to leave her alone? As her friend?” 
Wonwoo rises from his seat. “It can be that easy, if you stop being your own worst enemy. And I’m your friend, too. It doesn’t seem like the chapter is really over for either of you yet.” 
Seungcheol sits and considers what his friend shared. Wonders if there might be something there. He barely registers as Wonwoo says goodnight and calls a goodnight in response. Then, he’s left with his thoughts again. Should he say something? Can he bring himself to say something? Or will you just shut it down again?
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New Year's Eve brings a snowstorm with it that has your group of friends deciding it’s best to just stay in the cabins instead of venturing out to the party they’re having at the lodge. There’s plenty of you for a party, plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, especially close to the fire. The snow falls lightly outside the windows, blanketing everything around with a fresh layer of powdery flakes. It’s not supposed to get truly heavy until much later in the evening. So, you can just get dressed up and have a party with everyone that’s familiar to you. No worrying about mixing with strangers and how they’ll impact the party.
When you and Mingyu go into the kitchen to take stock of what you have and plan out the food for the day, you realize that maybe you don’t have everything that you need after all. You could actually use more food and you definitely could use some champagne to toast with. It makes sense, though, you planned to go into the lodge to ring in the new year. Your smile when Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Joshua offer to go out and do a run is immediate and wide. You hand over a list of what you need (well, you text it to all three of them just to cover your bases) and they’re off into town. That lets you turn back to the kitchen, where Mingyu and Mimi are starting on an appetizer. You’re trying to figure out what you can work on when someone clears their throat. Your heart skips a little when you look up.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Seungcheol asks you, face more open than you’ve seen in a while.
It makes your mouth go dry. How are you supposed to turn him down when he’s asking in front of everyone like this? Like it’s just a totally normal thing to ask? All you can do is nod and avoid looking at anyone else around you. Just nod and follow him into a smaller side room off the main living area. 
“Thanks,” he says when they stop walking.
“What was I supposed to do? Make a scene?” you ask. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to ask you to talk,” he admits.
“I heard you,” you say, cutting across his words. He looks confused. “Last night? I heard you talking to Wonwoo. I left my charger in here and came back to get it.” 
“Oh,” is all he says.
“Oh?” you repeat.
“I wanted to actually tell you, not have you overhear me talking through things with someone else,” he says, mouth turned down like he’s upset.
“Then you should have just talked to me,” you press.
“I couldn’t! You won’t talk to me,” he says defensively.
“Not this weekend. A year ago, when it all happened,” you say quietly.
“I know,” he says. You expect him to look annoyed or defeated, but he only looks sincere. “I knew the moment you walked out that I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I’ve tried a hundred times since then to just talk to you, but the words never felt right.” 
“Cheol,” you plead. You’ve been waiting a year to hear this. Except, you finally feel like you’re starting to move past it all and this is only making it confusing. 
“Just, you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear me out,” Seungcheol pleads. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask you that, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.
“I fucked up. I knew I did when you walked out, but it took me a while to realize just how bad. I didn’t just drive a partner away, I drove someone away that got through all my walls in a way nobody else ever has. I drove away the person that made me feel comfortable, that supported me even when I was being an idiot, that constantly showed up for me. I was afraid that I didn’t deserve you and always jealous of everyone else that paid attention to you. I thought one day you were gonna wake up and realize that there were better people out there that were less, I don’t know, emotionally closed off. I didn’t realize until way too late that you knew exactly what you brought to the table and what you deserved, but you picked me. I didn’t realize that it’s the only thing I ever needed, was you seeing all of me and picking me anyway,” Seungcheol says. 
“I don’t, that’s…” you trail off and shake your head to clear it. You’re trying to find the words when Nayeon pokes her head in.
“Hey, I’m so sorry to butt in, but Mimi just kicked me out of the kitchen. I was only offering because Mingyu said he needed help,” Nayeon says. “I think they need you.”
“Oh, um,” you start, kind of like a deer in headlights.
“You should go help him. I don’t want everyone hating me for keeping you from helping Mingyu,” Seungcheol says with a light chuckle at complete odds with the situation. 
“Thank you,” Nayeon says with a smile as she grabs your arm to whisk you away.
“Does Mingyu actually need me?” you ask.
“Huh? Yeah, he does,” Nayeon laughs. “I wasn’t trying to save you, you’re good enough at that on your own.”
“I don’t buy that,” you say, pulling both of you to a halt. Nayeon rolls her eyes.
“Fine, maybe I heard what he said to Wonwoo last night from Joshua and maybe I want you to at least consider what he has to say,” Nayeon admits. “I liked you together, sue me.”
“I just might,” you grumble, heading off to help Mingyu in the kitchen without Nayeon in tow.
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After dinner, you and Mingyu insist that you’re not getting anything, for anyone, for the rest of the night. And probably into tomorrow. Mimi got distracted part way through and disappeared for entirely too long with Jihoon. Which would be fine, but there were a lot of people to cook for and you needed all the help you could get. Joshua popped in and out, thankfully, but it was still tiring. The perk has been that you actually haven’t had to lift a finger since. Your drink stays full and someone is always willing to get you something to eat. That lets you settle in to play a game with the group.
The TV in the background steadily counts down as it gets closer to midnight. Occasionally, the performance draws your attention to watch. Mostly, you’re just drinking entirely too much. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, you know that you’re just trying to avoid thinking about everything Seungcheol said. Or trying to avoid thinking how good he looks tonight. It’s hard to stop yourself from lingering on the way his shirt clings to his chest. Has he been working out even more? Or the way his pants stretch tight across his thighs. Not for the first time, you shake your head to clear it, recross your legs, and focus on whatever game it is you’re playing. Ignore the look Wonwoo gives you from his place next to you. He certainly hasn’t missed your looks. (And nobody else really has, either, except for Jun. But, that’s just Jun for you.)
Everyone sets aside the games when it gets closer to midnight, milling around with varying amounts of energy instead of sitting still. You realize, even with any awkwardness from Seungcheol being there, you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather ring in a new year with. Surrounded by all of your favorite people, what else could anyone ask for? Well, except maybe a New Year’s kiss. As if on cue, your glance drifts over to Seungcheol. It’s a little surprising to find he’s already looking at you, smiling softly. It sends a surge of emotion through you to think of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. When you turn away to take a sip of your drink, you find it’s empty. With midnight rapidly approaching, you really need a refill on the champagne. You’re about to go do that when a voice breaks into your thoughts.
“Here,” he says.
You turn to look at Seungcheol, now very firmly in your space, holding out a new glass of champagne. “Thanks.”
“I just noticed you were almost empty and figured you’d want it,” he offers.
“Yeah, I should make sure this one lasts,” you chuckle out.
The host on TV announces that there’s only a minute left. Everyone around you starts talking excitedly or getting closer to their partners, if they have them. Jokingly, you told Wonwoo that he would be your New Year’s kiss. Now, that’s the last thing on your mind. Seungcheol hovers close by. When you look over at him, though, his eyes are on the TV, counting down along with the host when it gets to ten seconds.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” 
Everyone shouts together and starts clinking glasses. Hugging their friends or kissing their partners. Your body makes the decision for you when you turn to the man next to you and cheers his glass. As he starts to turn away, you grab his arm and pull him into you. Press your lips against his before either of you can figure out what’s happening. He recovers from his surprise quickly and wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. It’s familiar and also somehow completely new at the same time. 
Breathless. That’s what you feel when you pull away and cheers with other friends. You throw your arms around Nayeon and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. Pointedly ignore any looks or raised eyebrows about your decision to kiss your ex in a room full of all your friends. It’s fine. Everyone is doing fine. You’re definitely thankful that someone suggests a game and you can all go back to celebrating without talking about the elephant in the room. A very different elephant than when you first got to the cabins. 
There’s another massive difference, too. Instead of sitting on the fringes or carefully leaving space, Seungcheol plops down right next to you. Lets his arm rest along the back of the couch. His arm isn’t around you, but it could be with the slightest adjustment. Several of your friends look at you with the question in their eyes. You avoid all of them, like the true adult you are, and focus, instead, on the warmth of Seungcheol’s thigh when it presses into yours. Actually, you avoid drinking any more, either. The whole night has been a little confusing (read: a lot confusing) and you don’t need an alcohol haze adding to that. It doesn’t escape your notice that he stops drinking as well. 
When you start to get a little tired, you excuse yourself to the kitchen, claiming you need a snack and don’t know what you want. A minute later, Seungcheol appears on the other side of the island. Leaning casually against it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t sent your entire world into a spiral. Like he’s not still one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life.
“So, uh, I don’t wanna assume anything…” he starts and you hold up a hand.
“I’m going to excuse myself in a minute to go to bed. Give it a few minutes and then come to my room,” you say, walking around him without waiting for a response. 
When you tell the group that you’re going to turn in for the night, you do your best not to meet anyone’s eyes. You’re not naive enough to think you’re fooling anyone. Not that you even want to. It’s just, well, you want this time to figure out what’s happening. It’s a little hard to do that when you know everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. There’s the tiniest bit of you holding onto the hope that you can pass it off as you being overwhelmed by the kiss at midnight. Like you didn’t just tell him to meet you in your room.
Back in your room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on the bed. The seconds seem to drag by waiting for him to show up. For a second, you wonder if he’s actually going to show up at all. You stop those thoughts in their tracks. He had a lot to say and he kissed you back. Then, he spent the rest of the night pressed up close to you. He’s going to show up. Before you can spiral further, there’s a knock at the door. You’re halfway to the door when it opens a crack and Seungcheol peeks his head inside. 
“Can I come in?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since before you kissed him. 
“I did ask you to come to my room,” you joke.
“I was a little surprised,” he admits.
“Me too,” you agree. 
He shuts the door behind him, allowing you to really look at him for the first time all weekend. To take in his appearance, as he removes his jacket, without any other eyes on your. Or anyone analyzing the interaction. To just appreciate the man you fell in love with. His hair is a little shaggy and blond, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. He catches you looking, but instead of a smirk, there’s only a smile. Hopeful and genuine. It’s a little overwhelming to have him in your space. To know you need to talk. To know there’s so much to work through.
Instead, in the only move you can think of, you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his middle. He doesn’t even miss a beat. Just wraps his arms around you, erasing any last bit of space between you. It feels calm, familiar. Like no time has passed. Like you’re not different people now. He kisses the top of your head, so soft you think it might shatter any resolve you have left. 
“I’m sorry I kissed you in front of everyone without talking to you,” you mumble into his shirt.
“I’m not,” he quickly reassures you.
“I really fucking want to kiss you again,” you admit, still talking into his shirt rather than looking at him.
“Then,” he starts, moving a hand to tilt your chin up, “what are you waiting for?” 
“We probably should talk,” you say.
“You’re right,” he sighs.
Except, do you really want to talk right now? Do you really want to stop yourself from kissing him again? You stopped drinking so your head would be clear enough to make this decision. You’re just a little sick of overthinking everything this weekend. Sensing the indecision, Seungcheol presses a feather light kiss to your lips. Enough to make the decision, while also being light enough that you could easily pull away. 
You do, just for a second. “Fuck it, let’s talk tomorrow.” 
Your lips crash back against Seungcheol’s, hungry and desperate, arms wrapped around his neck. It makes him tilt down a little so that you can press against him. There’s no hesitation on his end, either. You find yourself wondering if he was always this good at kissing or if he’s gotten better since you broke up. Or maybe it just means more the second time around. When he picks you up, you gasp into the kiss. Wrap your legs around his waist to feel a little steadier. Not that you think he would ever let you fall. It’s easier than you expected to fall back into this kind of trust with him. 
It’s like you both want to go fast, yet also take your time. Seungcheol deposits you on the bed, then takes his time removing your shoes. Toes his off a little more quickly. You go to remove some of your layers, only to have his hands stop you. He’s so slow, removing the sheer top with painstaking care. Kissing along your skin as he exposes it. The amount of attention makes you squirm. You’re prepared for something quick and dirty. Something more like a one-night stand. You’re not prepared for him to worship your body as he exposes more of your skin. Part of you feels really exposed, because he’s still fully dressed, as he carefully unhooks your bra. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world he’s ever wanted, makes your heart ache. Makes you second guess if this is right. 
“We can stop. We don’t have to do this,” he whispers into your skin. 
You grab his face so that you can look him in the eyes. There’s something in you that just needs to gauge him for a minute. Needs to really know what decision you’re making. There’s so much love there, so many unspoken words, so much sincerity. Maybe you’re not over him at all. Maybe he meant everything he said.
“No, I want this. Want you,” you assure him. 
His eyes sparkle a little. There’s no time to dwell on it, though. His mouth is on your skin again. Kissing the spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. Kissing the beauty mark on your shoulder. Kissing across your collarbone. When he works his way down to your nipples, he’s not being so soft anymore. He pinches one between his fingers without warning.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss. 
“Too much?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, but you do anyway. That knowing smirk sends desire coursing through you.
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine. 
He pinches the same nipple again. Watches you as he flicks his tongue over the other. Actually smiles when you arch into his mouth. “You don’t seem to mind it.” 
You wind your hand into his hair in response, pull a little harder than normal. He groans against your breast, sending a little vibration into your skin. “You don’t seem to mind a little pain, either.” 
There’s no answer. Not that you need it. One of his hands moves down your body, mouth still focusing on your chest, until he gets to your thigh. Your skirt is bunching up around hips from squirming on the bed. “How much do you like these tights?”
You look down at the sparkly tights you bought just for the party. That you’ll probably never wear again. “I mean, they’ve got sparkles. Wasn’t planning to wear them again.” 
“Good,” he says. 
You’re expecting him to rip them on the spot. Instead, he returns his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, and lets a finger run over your entrance, through both tights and underwear. It’s not enough. There’s entirely too much fabric in the way. He’s teasing you, he has to be. There’s no other reason that explains this kind of torture. 
“Jesus, Cheol, please,” you beg. 
“What are you trying to do to me?” he groans. Seems like he still likes it when you beg for something.
In either case, he carefully rips a hole in your tights, too focused on you to figure out pulling them down. Seemingly in one motion, your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s got a finger running up your entrance. Feeling that you’re turned on from the way he’s been kissing all over your body. Thankfully, you don’t have to beg again. At least, not yet. He presses his fingers at your mouth and you suck them in eagerly. Swirl your tongue around them. He almost looks reluctant when he withdraws them to press one inside your cunt. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans. 
“Forgot how good your fingers felt,” you answer, squirming underneath him.
“Bet I could make you come just on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second one.
“Fuck,” you draw out. He’s not being gentle with you anymore. “Then you don’t get to taste me. And we both know how much you love that.”
He leans in closer, you’re assuming to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your ear. “Who says I can’t do both?” 
You bite down on your fist to keep from screaming out when he thrusts faster. Try your best to hold on when his thumb brushes over your clit. All you want is to prove him wrong. Prove that you can hold on and that you’re not putty in his hands. Except, your body remembers. It remembers just how good he makes you feel. Remembers how well he knows what makes you crazy. Nobody has ever known your body like him. And it’s a little annoying. With his fingers inside you, it’s easy to realize that nobody feels as good as him. You could never get yourself off like he could.
It’s an embarrassingly short time before you’re coming on his fingers, fighting not to scream out. Trying anything you can not to make it more obvious just why you decided it was time to head to bed. Seungcheol guides you through the high as you fall back into the bed, sinking deeper into the mattress. After a moment, you prop yourself up to watch him remove his shirt. You’re no longer the only one that’s overexposed. Then again, you don’t feel exposed being half naked around him. It only feels comfortable. Once he removes his shirt, he moves back to your body. Actually takes the time to remove your tights and underwear now. His breath ghosts across your cunt. That action alone is enough to send a little shiver through your body. You’re definitely sensitive. 
Seungcheol positions himself between your legs and looks up when you suck in a breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He’s so pretty like this. You’ve always thought that. Pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking up at you from underneath his lashes like he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. So caring. The little bit of caution you get from him in the middle of him ruining you. You clear your throat to remember he asked you a question. “Yes, Cheol. With you, always.” 
It’s immediately more honest than either of you are expecting. Instead of breaking the moment, though, it seems to spur him on. The kind smile dissipates into something much more confident. He spreads you open and looks up for a last time before his tongue licks a strip up your entrance. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time he was between your legs, your entire body remembers. It’s like muscle memory. The way your back arches. The way your hand knots in his hair. The way the praises fall from your lips. You’re sensitive. So fucking sensitive. And he knows. It’s always been one of his favorite things with you. Pushing you to the edge and then over again.
“God, I forgot how fucking good you taste,” he says when he takes a breath. 
“Well maybe, fuckkkk,” you start before cutting out. 
For once, he’s not a demon. He doesn’t ask what you were about to stay. Just keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. When his nose bumps against your clit as he’s buried deep in your pussy, you lose it again. Come all over his tongue and his face. Come harder than you remember coming in a really long time. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 
By the time the last shock works through your body, he’s laying next to you on the bed. You can’t help it. You have to lean over and kiss him. Want to taste yourself on his lips. It’s almost like you need that to know this is all real. That it’s all happening and it’s not just some weird, horny dream. (It’s not like that would be a first, either. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve thought a lot about him since you broke up. Especially when you were horny and needed a release. That’s your business, though.)
“Fuck, Cheol,” you utter when you pull away from the kiss.
“I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips,” he admits. “Specially when you call me Cheol.” 
“I’ve missed saying it,” you share, equally honest. 
You’re a little weak already. It’s hard to imagine what tomorrow is going to be like. But, you move down the bed anyway. Seungcheol tracks you with his eyes as you position to undo his pants. He moves his hips up to help you pull both his pants and briefs down. His stare as you pull your skirt down and discard it at the side of the bed is almost possessive. It sends something through your body. 
It’s your turn to remind him that he’s not the only one who remembers. You also remember just what drives him crazy and just how to get him going. You remember every place he likes to be kissed. So, you start there. Run your lips along every part of his body, like you’re committing him to memory again. As if you could ever forget anything about him. You delight in the sounds you pull from him just with your kisses. Maybe he knows, though, that you’re working your way down. 
“So hard just from getting me off,” you comment. 
“Because I know that nobody can make you come like I can and it’s fucking hot,” he answers.
It’s the same answer he’s always given and something about the familiarity makes you bolder. Even though you know there’s a conversation for tomorrow, it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever done. You take his dick in your hand, run a finger over the tip and feel a little bit of the precum there. When you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, he shudders. Closes his eyes for a second before they snap back open to watch you. He’s always been like this. Always wanting to watch. This time is no different as you slowly take him into your mouth. You know he wants to fuck into your face, know you’d let him. But, you’re thankful he doesn’t. Even if you remember, he’s still big and thick inside your mouth. You need the time to get used to him. Once you do, though, you start to bob. Slowly, at first, before you let him take control. Relax your throat and let him find purchase in your hair. Encourage him to jerk his hips up as you keep your eyes on him as much as possible. You know how much it drives him crazy, even as the tears form and you gag a little 
“Fuck,” Seungcheol utters. 
He pulls you off his cock and up to his face so that he can kiss you. This is your favorite version of him. When he’s needy and desperate and completely putty in your hands. Like he can’t possibly imagine being anywhere that you aren’t. It’s when you know that you’re not crazy, that he’s just as far gone for you as you are for him. 
“I really need to fuck you,” he says. His lips are swollen from kissing you and his pupils are completely blown. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.” 
“It’s fine, I’m still on the pill and I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you say. 
That seems to catch him off guard. “You haven’t?”
“No,” you answer.
“I haven’t either,” he admits.
“Then, we’re fine. I trust you,” you tell him. 
“Thank god, I really miss being inside you,” he breathes out.
“Think you just miss me,” you grumble as you reposition to straddle his lap.
“You and that smartass mouth of yours,” he retorts.
“I’m about to ride you, Seungcheol, and you just fucked my smartass mouth. So, maybe, pipe down,” you warn him.
This has always been your dynamic, swapping back and forth for who’s in control. As much as he says he likes control, you know he likes giving it up to you just as much. You know that he hasn’t ever let anyone else be in control apart from you. He looks up at you as you position yourself over him. There was a time when you hated this position. Felt really self conscious about how you must look from this angle. The second you admitted it to him, he was quick with his praise. Assuring you that you’re beautiful to him and there’s nothing to worry about.
He stops you before you lower yourself onto him. Puts his fingers in your mouth again and you obey without a second thought. Then, he runs his fingers along your entrance. Slides a finger in before quickly adding a second. It’s an awkward angle, but you get what he’s trying to do. Appreciate that he wants to make sure you’re at least a little prepped. When he pulls his fingers out, you’re only a little embarrassed at the moan that slips through your lips. If you completely ignore the smirk that he throws your way, well, who can blame you? The smirk is gone a second later when you finally lower yourself onto him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. 
You know him so well. You know his instinct is to buck his hips up into you. You know it’s hard for him to let you adjust. But, you also know that he wants to be gentle, even if it’s just for a moment. 
“I forgot how good you felt, jesus fuck,” you moan out. 
“Please, I need to feel you move,” he begs. It’s nice, when he’s the one to beg for something.
And who are you to deny him anything he asks for when he sounds so pretty asking? You do move, entirely too slowly. You need to find your rhythm, though. Need to find some place to anchor your hands. They settle on his chest, at first, and you actually can’t believe how much muscle he has there. He’s always liked to work out. Always wanted to be in shape. This is even more than that. You’re still appreciating the way his chest feels when he grabs one of your hands. Without a word, he moves it to his neck.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He nods. It’s been awhile since you choked him, even lightly, but it turns you on. It’s easy to see that it turns him on, too. As you apply a little bit of pressure, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips. You do everything that you can to pick up the pace. To move faster on top of him. It doesn’t take very long until he’s planting his feet so that he can set the pace. He takes over the rhythm and it gets a lot harder. Bodies slapping together with each movement.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you say, trying not to scream. 
You move your hand from his neck so that you have a better grip. He’s moving too fast for you to feel comfortable that you won’t press too hard into his neck. It’s insane, you know that it’s insane, but you already feel like you’re getting close again. You start to clench around Seungcheol, making the stretch feel that much more intense. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come if you do that,” he groans. 
“Then do it,” you force out. “Wanna feel it inside me.”
“Jesus,” he groans. 
Everything happens so fast. You can feel him everywhere and your body is on fire. He’s still fucking hard into you, but he’s also rubbing your clit. Helping you get there with him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re already on the verge of your third orgasm. Oversensitive and overstimulated. Your body starts to shake and it’s hard to keep yourself upright on top of him. 
“Fuck, Cheol, I’m coming,” you hiss out. 
“I’m about to come too, fuck,” he answers. 
His thrusts get a lot more erratic and you feel him let loose inside you. You feel the way he moves to try and support you even while he’s working through his own release. When he stills, you collapse forward onto his chest. Breaths shallow and heavy. Your whole body’s exhausted, yet so happy at the same time. Carefully, you pull yourself off him. You’re sure a little bit of cum slides out with the loss of his cock inside you. Not that you care. 
It’s several minutes of silence. Seungcheol lays on his back and you’re on your side next to him. It might be a mark of how much he really did miss you that he doesn’t flinch when you start tracing patterns onto his stomach. It’s not like you just stop being ticklish. Eventually, you realize you need to get up. The last thing you want is to go to bed crusty. 
“Come on, I got lucky and I have an attached bathroom,” you say when you get up off the bed. You reach a hand to him and smile when he takes it without question. 
It’s quiet again as you help clean each other up. A comfortable kind of quiet. The way it used to be. This is another favorite of yours with him. Aftercare has always been his thing. No matter how rough he is with you in bed, he’s impossibly gentle when he cleans you up. It makes your heart ache a little because you’re so fond. It’s a weird mix of feelings.
“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he says. 
“We’re already here,” you point out. 
“With sheets that are probably soaked,” he teases back. 
“What are the chances we can get to your room without being seen?” you wonder. 
He shrugs. “It’s late. Probably better than the chances nobody heard us.” 
Your cheeks flush a little. Sure, you definitely tried to be quiet. You’ll have to wait until the morning to see if you succeeded. 
“Come on, my room has a door to the outside,” he says. 
So, you follow. You put your layers back on and grab something to sleep in. And you don’t actually see anyone before you’re safely tucked away in his room. That night, falling asleep tangled up in Seungcheol, is the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. 
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Morning comes and brings with it the need for an actual conversation. As you stretch in bed, you appreciate the soreness in your body with a smile. Anything you’re feeling now is surely worth it. That is, until you realize you’re in bed alone. Dread creeps in. Could last night really have meant something different to Seungcheol than it did to you? Did you just make a massive mistake? You’re starting to wonder if you’re only going to break your own heart this time, with nobody else to blame, when the bedroom door opens. Seungcheol steps inside with a thermos and a bag that looks like it might have some of the pastries Wonwoo brought back from the store yesterday.
“You’re awake,” he says with a smile. He sets down the thermos and removes his jacket to hang it up. 
“I was worried you’d left,” you admit when he finishes taking off his shoes and sits next to you. His face looks hurt for a second before it settles. 
“No, I just went to get coffee and figure out what we were walking into before you got up,” he says. 
“And?” you prompt. 
He pulls out a pastry and hands it over. “Nayeon asked where I slept last night and if I knew where you were. I don’t think she heard anything, but who knows with her? Wonwoo wasn’t in the main area, so I don’t know. They said they all knew I was following you, though.”
“Guess we can’t really avoid it,” you joke. 
You’re expecting him to smile, too. Instead, his face is serious. “Do you want to? Avoid it, I mean.”
It makes you serious. Maybe a little too honest. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I don’t expect you to believe me, not right away, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says and takes your hands in his. “If you give me another chance, I’m never letting you walk away from me again. I’ll prove that I’m worth everything you give me.”
“You’ve always been worth it, Cheol,” you tell him. 
“I realize that now,” he agrees. “I also realize it’s up to you to know what you deserve and what you want. That wasn’t ever my decision to make and I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”
“It hurt, for sure, but not having you around hurts so much worse,” you admit. It’s hard to meet his eyes, even though you know you’re safe. 
“It hurts so fucking bad. I hate it. Last year was the worst year of my life,” he says. 
“You got a massive promotion, though! Wonwoo told me,” you say. 
“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m done caring. That promotion didn’t mean shit without you being there to share it with,” he shares with you. 
“I guess we’ll have to celebrate it this year,” you say. 
His face lights up. “Really?”
“I want to give us another chance. I don’t think either of us are over it,” you acknowledge. “Last night aside, I want to take it slow. I want to take our time instead of rushing in like we did the first time around. I want to get it right this time.”
He nods immediately. “We can go as slow as you want. I mean it. I’m not letting you go again.”
“Good, because I don’t think we should wait to see if the third time’s the charm,” you joke. 
“I’m glad I came this year,” he says as he grabs the thermos. 
“Me too,” you agree. 
It’s funny, you think, how someone can feel so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Seungcheol feels like home, like your favorite sweater, or like curling up with a book by the fire in winter. But, he feels entirely new, too. Like maybe you both changed over the past year. Maybe you both grew into the people you needed to be to love each other better. To love each other right. Later, you’ll have to break the bubble and face your friends. Right now, though, you can just appreciate that this silly little cabin trip brought you peace. 
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this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you liked it 💕
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bubble-dream-inc · 1 year
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under your skin.
The last walk-in you expected to see in your tattoo parlor in one rainy day was a massive masked behemoth of a man. It came as even more of a surprise when you wanted to see him there again and again; and a final time when he kept coming back.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Tattoo artist reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 7K
a/n: listen, as a tattoo artist irl, the first thing i did when i discovered ghost had a tattoo was to think how i had to self indulge. i’d kill to tattoo this man personally. shoutout to @117s-girl, @somnibats and Eddie for the tremendous help when i had writer’s block, and @deafeningcat for the amazing beta read as always <3
tags: fluff, reader being horny for ghost, ghost being slightly ooc, mentions at verbal abuse, slightly suggestive and slight angst.
You remember the first time Simon Riley walked into your shop.
It was a cold and rainy day - like most days in Manchester - and you were idling by, doodling on a notebook by the front desk and listening to whatever was playing on the radio without paying it much attention. Glancing at the clock on the wall where the empty loveseat was, you were starting to wonder if you should go get something to eat while you waited, when the bell on the front door chimed, indicating someone had come in.
At first, you thought he was going to rob you, and in a second you were already kissing your expensive equipment goodbye in your head, cursing the fact you had decided to buy that pricey tattoo machine you were eyeing for so long just last week, but those thoughts vanished when the figure just stood in front of you. Silently, you eyed the skull mask and sunglasses that covered his face, wondering what was this guy’s deal, since it was way too grey outside to be wearing any sort of eyewear. Trying not to let his huge stature looming over you be intimidating, you were about to say something when his gruff voice cut the silence.
“You take walk-ins?” 
So he really was a client, you thought. Rummaging through the notebooks in the desk, you quickly glanced at your schedule, seeing your next client wasn’t supposed to come for a few good hours, and decided you were curious about the masked man.
“Well, it depends. What were you thinking of getting?” 
He stood still for a moment, and you wondered if he heard you at all, but suddenly he reached for something in the pocket of his jeans, extending a neatly folded piece of paper in front of you. His voice filled the silence again as you unfolded the paper, and you found the thick accent oddly calming coming from him. 
“I want it to be a sleeve. Covering my left forearm.”
You opened it to find a surprisingly intricate design, and it seemed like whoever did it made it with the intention of actually getting it as a sleeve. Not taking the masked guy for an artist, you found a signature on the bottom of the page, a chicken scratch that read “Tommy Riley”. Usually, you’d make light conversation and ask about the design, especially when it looked important, but something told you not to pry into this man’s business. Assuming he’s this “Tommy” fella, you just smiled politely, deciding you could fit the first session of it into your work day.
“Sure. It should take a few sessions, though, is that alright with you?” He simply nodded, wordlessly, and you decided that was good enough of an answer. 
Leading him into the procedure room after getting his approval on the price, you made sure to give him a consent form for him to fill out and sign while you traced the design to a stencil - making sure to cut the right adjustments to wrap around his visibly huge forearm. You wondered if he was a weightlifter of sorts, or maybe just a gym rat. 
Transferring the stencil to his skin and prepping your materials for tattooing was a completely silent ordeal, and your client seemed more than content in just letting the silence linger for the remainder of your encounter, and even if you were getting antsy by it, you were glad he didn’t comment on how visibly nervous you were when you wrapped your gloved hands around his arm to make the stencil stick - feeling his warmth and the protruding veins even through the latex that covered your own skin. 
“You have any other tattoos?” You asked, stepping on the machine pedal to make sure your tattoo machine was at the right voltage while he got comfortable setting his arm on the arm rest.
“No.” 
“Cool.” God, you felt awkward. “I’m gonna start now, tell me if it hurts too much.”
“Right.” 
You felt stupid saying that to a man that had arms the size of your head and was at least 6,4. As expected, he didn’t even flinch when the needles touched his skin, but you weren’t about to give up on your mission to make conversation with your mysterious client. While tracing it with the machine, you analyzed the design a bit closer.
“That’s some interesting art.” It wasn’t. It was tacky as hell, all missiles and skulls and other edgy elements, but you were not going to say that to him. “You like guns?”
“Something like that.” 
You gave up trying to chat him up shortly after. Even with the weird dad sunglasses on, you could still feel his stare on you, unnerving at best, and you wondered what was up with the mask. In your line of work, you’d met some interesting individuals, and you considered your shop a safe haven for all outcasts and misfits; you’d known, after all you did decide to pursue tattooing as a career. Still, something about this man - Tommy? - made you feel an itch to see what lied beyond the mask - both figuratively and literally.  At least it would take a few more sessions to finish his piece, hopefully he’d say more than five words at once to you at some point. 
It took you two hours to finish tracing it, and you deemed it was good to go and begin shading another day. Getting into professional mode, you gave him directions on how to care for it and asked him to come back after a month to start on shading it, and, as expected, he only nodded to you. Going back to the front desk, he handed the bills containing the price you had settled on, and turned around, leaving without another word. Out of curiosity, you picked up his file. The first thing you noticed was that he had left the “Occupation” space blank.
The second thing you noticed was that the signature read “Simon Riley”.
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
Simon didn’t come back after a month. 
A good few months later, you just figured he’d given up and was now walking around with an unfinished tattoo, or, worse, he had picked another artist to finish the job, and the thought made you angrier than you’d like to admit. Despite your annoyance, whenever you’d organize your clients files, you’d find yourself lingering on his, weirdly curious and feeling like he was a puzzle you were dying to solve.
A long time passed - you don’t know how much, but you’d say it was more than a year - before he showed up again, and, once again, it was unannounced. You were finishing a client’s tattoo when your friend - and coworker - knocked on the procedure room door, and when you’d told her to come in, she looked like she had seen a ghost. 
“There’s a guy in the waiting room asking for you. Said you were doing his sleeve…” She quietly announced, and you just stared at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. "He 's…Big. Tall guy with a creepy skull mask.” 
She whispered the last part so he wouldn’t hear it, even if he was a good corridor distance away and the metal music coming from the radio would drown it out, and after a few moments you realized she was talking about Simon.  You remember answering something to her and finishing the tattoo on auto pilot before heading to the front desk, and, sure enough, Simon was standing there menacingly, in his whole huge aura, seemingly unbothered by how his height, frame, and mask were making the other clients in the shop regard him with uneasy looks. His eyes met yours once you showed up. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the sunglasses anymore, and his fabric mask had been replaced by a simpler balaclava and a hard skull mask on top that you hoped was made out of a synthetic material. 
Now bare, his gaze revealed its intensity to you, the dark hues following your every move in a way you supposed you could find intimidating if a small, very weird part of you didn’t find it attractive. He seemed tired, eyes cast downwards and with bags surrounding it, and you wondered what had happened when he was gone. 
“Hey.” You breathed, straining your neck to look up at him and completely forgetting about the other people in the room. “Riley, right? I’m guessing you’re here for the sleeve?”
He seemed slightly surprised you remembered his name, but the impression of seeing emotion in his eyes was gone in an instant as he simply nodded at you.
“Yeah. You got time?”
You didn’t. But you’d make it work, you weren’t about to send away the man who had, for some reason, plagued your thoughts so much for the last months. 
“I got a few more clients, but if you don’t mind waiting, i can fit you in?”
You hated how uneasy you sounded, your hands fiddling with a stray loose line of your ripped jeans as you waited for his answer.
“That works.” 
With his gruff reply, he turned and sat down in the waiting area, and you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 
The hours went by, the clients came and went to and from your procedure room as well as your colleague’s, yet, every single time you left the room to go to the front desk have a sip of water or check your next client’s name, Simon was still there, patiently waiting, the loveseat seeming oddly small under him, and his all black, dark getup blending perfectly with the black walls of the studio. If anything, it made you even more intrigued, since most people would have left by now, considering how long a tattoo takes and he could just come back another day, but he didn’t show any signs of having anywhere else to be. The people traffic started to wind down, and soon enough, you dismissed your last client of the day as you were the only artist left in the shop and the sun had already hid in the horizon. 
“Glad to see you again. I was wondering if you had gotten another artist.” You laughed somewhat nervously, taking a breather by the glass door while Simon finished filling out another responsibility form, and you had to ignore how nervous you felt when he turned to glance at you with those dark and intense eyes of his.
“Got busy, that’s all.” He murmured, setting the pen down on the front desk and turning to the wall where your flash pieces were displayed. “And I like your work.”
Feeling your eyes widen, you tried to conceal how flustered the comment made you feel behind a cool chuckle, but something told you Simon could see right through you. Going back inside and pointing him towards the procedure room, you briefly glanced at the fresh consent form and realized he filled out his occupation this time, the words “Army” surprisingly not phasing you one bit.
Simon was the same as the last time, quiet as a grave. But, seeing as you were wrapping up the shading quicker than you’d anticipated, you decided this time you would not let this mysterious man walk out of your studio - possibly forever - without at least getting one piece of information out of him.
“So…does it mean anything?” You nodded towards his arm, trying to play it cool. Being in this field, you quickly realized not everyone gets tattoos that mean anything, and most of them are really just for aesthetics, but the signature below the original design had you wondering, even if the newfound information that he was in the military made the over the top missiles and dog tags inked on his arm make a lot more sense. He stared at you from behind the mask for a moment, making you feel queasy under his stare and suddenly very aware of how much you were draped over his arm trying to get the shading on one particular skull to look just right.
“Yeah.” After a few moments he replied, a wave of sudden relief washing over you upon realizing you had not, in fact, crossed a line. “My brother made it.”
“He’s quite the artist.”
“He really was.”
Oh. 
You decided to drop the subject after the implication.
“And what branch are you in?” Not looking at him, you spoke in a low tone, too concentrated on the machine in your hands to realize you were maybe asking more than he was comfortable talking. “You know, uh, in the army.”
“Special Air Forces.” You realized he tensed almost imperceptibly, relaxing once you only hummed.
“Cool. I’d reckon you guys had tattoo parlors closer to base, though.” 
“We do.” He huffed. “But I know the guys. Not nearly as clean as here.”
At that, you chuckled gently, missing the way Simon’s eyes softened at the sound.
You continued the piece in comfortable silence, distantly registering the pitter-patter of the rain that had just started falling on the street beyond the front doors. Finishing it up, faster than you would have liked, you decided the corny design looked good - really good - on him, and he might have been the only guy possible to pull it off, which could have been related to how big and strong his arms looked. Wrapping the tattoo in plastic film and reminding him to not keep it on for too long, you had to focus on acting professional and not let him know you were ogling at the recently inked piece of skin. The long sleeve shirt he had rolled up to his forearms did not help you one bit, nor did the way his eyes followed your every single movement.
When you got back to the front desk - relieved to find the rain had stopped - you expected Simon to just pay and leave silently the same way he did the last time, but he actually lingered, letting his eyes wander through the flash pieces displayed in a neat corkboard in the waiting room - this one with your name written on top. You actually don’t know when he got your name - something told you it was when he asked your coworker for you. He seemed quite interested in one particular design that had been gathering dust for a long time on the board, considering how big it was.
“See something you like?” You followed his gaze, realizing it was a ram skull chest piece you had completely forgotten about; it looked too dark and menacing for most people looking for walk-ins and flash tattoos. “That one was meant to be a chest piece. Works for the back, too.”
Simon studied it for a few moments. What was up with this guy and skulls? Finally, he turned to you.
“When can you do it?”
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
The third time Simon Riley walked into your studio, it was, by far, the most memorable one. 
Unsurprisingly enough, he had decided to set an appointment for the chest piece to be the last one of your day, a week later; whether he enjoyed the night time better or just wanted to not be bothered with other people around, that was a mystery to you. There was a third option in the back of your head, but you told yourself it was delusional, and your fascination with the masked man was, in fact, one sided. That didn’t stop you from greeting him with a cheery smile as you looked up from where you were doodling on your notebook on the front desk, pretty much like your first encounter. However, you didn’t think too much of what exactly the chest piece implied as you headed to your procedure room with Simon in tow. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you freezed for a second, holding up the carbon stencil in your hands.
“Uh, you might wanna…take off your shirt. It’ll be more comfortable for you.” 
Preparing the stencil gel, you tried your best to ignore him and not let your eyes wander too much as he lifted the unnecessarily tight black t-shirt over his head, careful as to not remove the balaclava and skull mask combo, folding it neatly and setting the piece of cloth over your table before standing next to you in front of the full body mirror. 
I’m a professional. I’m a professional. I’m a professional.
If you thought Simon was huge before, that was an understatement. 6,4 feet of pure, naked muscle stood inches away from your much smaller body, and you were extremely relieved to realize that he had, probably out of consideration for you, shaved his chest beforehand - the same couldn’t be said for the faint happy trail very clearly peeking from his jeans, sitting way lower on his hips than you’d like. Scolding yourself over and over for fawning like a horny teenager, you hoped the nervous tremble in your hands as you delicately smoothed the gel over his collarbones wasn’t as obvious as you felt it was. Even through the latex gloves you could feel the heat coming from his pecs, as well as a few minor scars that shouldn’t give you too much trouble. You decided to ignore the very visible and very big bullet scar on his side. As he adjusted his dog tags to hang behind his neck so as to not get in your way, you finally peeled the stencil off, trying to calm your frantic beating heart as he analyzed it in the mirror to make sure it was in the right placement. 
It got worse when he actually laid on the tattoo table - comically dwarfed under his enormous frame. Sure, you had tattooed a fair share of chests along the years - both men’s and women’s - and it never really flustered you, after all, it was your job, seeing skin was a very big part of it. However, as you lowered your torso on the bed and tried to adjust your hand to sit as comfortably as possible on his chest, you thanked the gods it was such a big tattoo; you had no idea how you wouldn’t mess it up if it was a tiny one. But you doubted Simon would ever get a tiny tattoo. Above all, you could appreciate how he maintained his breathing slow and steady and, again, didn’t even flinch as the needles touched him, making you like him as a client even more. 
“I’ve heard you guys in the army got…codenames?” You started, desperate to start some conversation before your intrusive thoughts won. “What do they call you?”
Slowly, you were getting used to his brief silence before answering you. It seemed like his way to decide if your question was worth answering or not, and you were glad he had found them all to be so far. 
“Ghost.”
“Very fitting.”
You were surprised to hear him exhale in a way that resembled a very weak laugh, and you felt giddy knowing you made your ever so quiet and serious client laugh - or something like that. Feeling calmer, you continued the very big piece, strapping in for a long next couple of hours.
They passed quickly, your hand working almost in autopilot as you traced the tattoo’s lineart and made light conversation with Simon - Ghost. You learned he was a Lieutenant, liked bourbon and the mask never came off. Granted, it was mostly you speaking and him answering, but you were glad he was entertaining your nervous ramblings, and you were only slightly embarrassed to admit to yourself you found his southern British accent very soothing on his deep, gruffy voice. In turn, you told him a little more about yourself; why you got into tattooing and even a few funny stories from dealing with past clients. 
Finally deciding it was enough strain on his skin for one session, you set your machine down and admired your work, smiling under your mask. Taking a generous amount of the tattooing balm on your fingers, you swallowed your nervousness before gently spreading the substance on his chest so it would heal nicely, not missing the way he relaxed under your touch. If you weren’t so busy panicking by having your hands on such a massive and attractive man, you could ponder on how he seemed to be enjoying that as much as you were. With your approval, he got up to examine the piece on the mirror, and you caught yourself staring into his strong, chiseled, and scarred back, before averting your eyes, choosing to focus instead on cleaning up the inky mess you made on your trolley. You once again went through the now familiar ordeal of him silently thanking you, paying, and leaving into the night.
As Simon Riley left the studio that day, carrying an unfinished piece of your work right on his chest, you realized something clearly had changed in the air between you two. You just had no idea if it was a good or bad thing.
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
The next time Simon showed up, a month later, you were stressed out of your mind.
You were booked, so you didn’t really have any open spots next to closing time the way he liked it, so he had to settle for coming a bit earlier than usual, which meant there were actually other people in the studio for once, including the one on the front desk yelling in your face.
You couldn’t really remember what he was yelling about, just that you were suddenly regretting your decision of working with people and wondering if it was worth it to stoop down low and insult him back the way he was doing to you. You figured the moment he started yelling about his already finished tattoo that it was most likely another scam attempt coming from him, but it didn’t really matter anymore once you zeroed in on the hulking figure that showed up unexpectedly behind your unpleasant client in the form of your masked savior. For a moment, you were scared things were going to get violent, but Simon didn’t have to do much. It took one glower from him, his gaze sharp enough to cut from way above the smaller man, and he was suddenly stuttering apologies and leaving the studio in a hurry. You ignored the looks the other people in the waiting room were giving the two of you, offering a tired, but extremely grateful smile, to Ghost.
“Hey, Riley.”
He was still staring at where the man had left, and the annoyance on his usually so stoic gaze came as a surprise to you. 
“What happened?” 
You were already heading into the procedure room, too shaken to deal with the stares of the people in the waiting room any longer, and shot him a sheepish look from over your shoulder. 
“Just a rude client being difficult. Not the first time he gave me trouble, either, but it happens.” 
Simon didn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he let it slide, for the moment. Heading into the room and closing the door behind you, the air fell into a familiar silence, broken only by the cluttering sounds as you set up your supplies, and, to you, your still frantic heartbeat in your ears by the less than pleasant interaction just a few minutes earlier. It was unlikely, given how observant he was, but you hoped Simon didn’t pick up on just how shaken you were. Still, you took a few moments to calm yourself down as you tested the machine with your feet; Simon had already made himself comfortable on the table, and soon enough you fell into the rhythm of inking him, the same way you had grown used to in those last few months. Focusing on a particularly stubborn piece of skin where the ink didn’t paint as easily, you were lost in thought when his voice pulled you back to reality.
“Are you scared of me?” You heard him ask quietly from above you, instantly knowing he was referring to the way your earlier client had run off on the sight of him. Pausing your ministrations, you looked up from his chest to find him already staring at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Since you were currently working on the details on his collarbone, you haven’t realized how close you actually were to his face, and suddenly you were hit with the realization you could feel his breath through both your masks; and an intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke and cologne. Caught in a trance by his dark gaze, you realized a little too late you were gawking and not really answering his question, which made you feel very glad for the surgical mask covering your suddenly very red face and flustered expression. Looking down to continue your work, you tried to find your words once again.
“Not really. I mean, the mask was off-putting at first, but I've had some odd people as clients. You’re cool, though. You remind me of those big, scary guard dogs, but in a good way.” Cringing at the lame answer, you felt like a kid talking to her crush in middle school all over again, and the huff-slash-chuckle that left Simon only made it worse. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t, and in your flustered stupor you couldn’t find any words either, so you just let the air around you fall into a comfortable silence over again. If it were anyone else, you’d be wary of the constant quietness, but, for some reason, Simon’s presence was enough to make you content, even if no words were exchanged. 
Blacking out the parts that had to be inked was a piece of cake for you and your enormous needle - which you were glad was being used on Simon, since, most of your other clients would have been crying from the pain only halfway done with the black - and soon enough you were heading out to the front with him, readying yourself to bid him goodbye and, disappointedly, only see him again in the next month, once his tattoo was healed enough for another session, however, as you approached the waiting room, he made no move to leave. You thought maybe he was, again, inspecting your work displayed on the wall, the prospect of continuing to tattoo him after his chest piece was done getting you giddy already, but he was looking nowhere but in your direction, eyes unreadable behind the skull mask.
“I’ll wait until you close. Who knows if that asshole won’t come back expecting me not to be here anymore.” 
Blinking up at him, it took you a few moments to process what he had murmured under his breath, and, in an instant, your heart rate shot up as you tried to wrap your head around the implications. Had it been any other client, you would have laughed it off, telling him not to worry and that you could take care of yourself, but it wasn’t just about anyone. It was him. And for some reason, the fact made you only wordlessly agree with a nod of your head and wide eyes, certain he could now see how clearly flustered and red your face looked. An intrusive part of your brain was screaming at you that he was just being nice, and that the protectiveness was just because of his job and nothing else, but you’d entertain these thoughts later - if ever.
So, much like the second time you’d met him, the rest of your afternoon was spent with seeing Ghost’s massive figure patiently waiting in the way too small loveseat in the front room of the studio, living up to the scary guard dog imagery you had joked about to him, except, this time, in between clients you’d sit besides him to catch a break and make light conversation, the deep rumble of his voice soothing all of your worries in a minute. 
As the hours went by, it was way past nightfall when you closed up, everyone else had already left and you were exhausted after washing the studio on your own. True to his word, Simon loomed behind you like a shadow, quiet and intimidating, refusing to leave until he had walked you to your car in safety. You remember thanking him profusely, and him not making a big deal out of it, and the way your heart thrummed in your throat as you drove on autopilot to your house, trying to ignore the way Ghost’s figure walking besides you on the quiet sidewalk a few moments before felt just right. 
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
It was early August when you woke up in a very good mood that one morning.
Later you’d realize it was because it was the day of Simon’s appointment, but at the time you had chalked it up to just being a sunny day that brightened your spirits.
Business as usual, you went along your day, anxiously waiting for the place to empty out and you’d get your newly discovered favorite customer, not that you’d admit it outloud to him, or even to yourself. It was actually a slower day, with a big break between clients, which you were glad about, so between coffee and water breaks and chit chatting with your coworkers, soon enough the sun went down and the enormous figure of Ghost could be seen crossing the threshold of the studio’s glass door, responding your enthusiastic wave with a nod of his head, eyes relaxed behind the mask. As usual, he followed you inside the procedure room, and you remembered something.
“Lemme see how your sleeve is healing.” Extending your hand, you smiled cheekily at him, giddy after seeing his half-hearted eye roll, and he gave his left forearm for you to inspect. With his busy way of life, you’d have expected to be worse, but it was actually very well taken care of. “Wow, this has healed up perfectly, good job, Simon!”
You beamed up at him, but your smile faltered once you saw his eyes widening at the praise. Oops. He grumbled something in response and you decided to save him the embarrassment, releasing his arm with a chuckle.
No matter how many times he did it, every single time Ghost took his shirt off it made your brain short circuit, but you remained professional and fell into the familiar routine of tattooing him in comfortable silence, only this time it was broken not only by you talking first, but also him. It surprised you to hear him ask you questions first or tell you some non-compromising stories about his job, - making you chuckle a few times hearing about the shenanigans of this “Soap” friend of his - but you weren’t about to complain. You were lost in the familiarity of it all when you realized that you were actually almost done with the shading - meaning his chest piece would end one session earlier than expected. Trying to mask your disappointment, you wrapped it up, forcing a smile to a suddenly very confused Ghost. 
“I thought we were going to need another session but, uh, turns out it was…faster than i expected!” You gave him a slight, nervous chuckle, and you swore you saw his eyes widen behind the mask. 
As usual, you wrapped the ink in the plastic film - finding it very hard to make the masking tape stick to his large pecs - and gave the same instructions in a robotic way, following him to the front desk where he finished paying for his piece, all in absolute silence and with unreadable eyes. As the transaction was finished, he lingered, standing silently in front of you, looming. You couldn’t meet his eyes.
“So, yeah, i guess that’s it…” You gave another chuckle, offering him a gentle smile. “Hey, don’t be a stranger-”
“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” He blurted out, shutting you right up, and that stopped you dead in your tracks. You stared up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly, and were waiting for him to say something else or even backtrack, but that never came.
“Uh. Yes? I mean, yes, sure! I’d love to!” You stammered, certain you were wide-eyed and a flustered mess, not expecting him to be so straightforward, or, even say anything at all. Simon seemed a lot more composed than you, even if the way he blurted his question out made it seem like he could be slightly nervous. You doubted he ever got nervous, though. 
“Great. Does this weekend work for you?” 
Thinking back on your schedule, you remembered that no, it didn’t.
“I’m booked with work…But, the next one I should be free.” You hated how awkward you sounded.
He nodded, and took his phone out of his pocket to extend it for you, and you assumed he was asking for your number in the Ghost-est fashion possible. You unlocked it, noticing the lack of a password and the factory wallpaper, realizing it was probably a personal and barely used phone, punching your number in and saving the contact. As you returned the device to Simon, you found solace in realizing he probably felt as awkward as you did.
“I’ll see you in a fortnight, then.” 
With a last nod of his head, he left, leaving you flustered, confused, but extremely giddy, and with a heart pounding against your ribcage. 
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
Simon came back a week before he was supposed to.
As usual, you were closing up shop when he showed up, distractedly walking around the front room of the studio as you organized everything for the night, the sound of the heavy rain outside covering up the creaking of the glass door, so when you turned around, his presence startled you. 
“Hi Simon! You’re early.” You chuckled once you recovered from your scare, but he didn’t match your energy. He was just standing there, stiff as a plank, and staring silently at you. Growing increasingly worried, you were about to ask if he was alright when he beat you to it. 
“I’m leaving for a mission. And i’ll be gone for…some time.” 
Your heart dropped, and you could only stare at his mask trying to process his words and find words, but ultimately settling on a quiet and disappointed oh. He finally approached you, and in less than a second he was standing towering over your figure, holding you in that familiar eye contact you’d grown to look forward to so much, even if you'd realized by his gaze that he seemed just as upset as you. 
“Will you…be in danger?” It was a dumb question, but you couldn’t help yourself, everything you told yourself the days about moving slowly and waiting for your first date to decide how much you cared flying out the window as you openly worried for him for the first time. Ghost sighed, and suddenly you were hyper aware of how close you stood.
“I always am.” 
Not breaking away from his intoxicating gaze, your words lowered to a whisper, a plea.
“Be careful. Please.” 
The air stilled around you, thicker in tension that got worse with each passing millisecond, all of those feeling like hours. Simon’s height had never seemed so intimidating, and you never chastised yourself so much before for liking how his intense aura made you feel, something that increased tenfold once he boldly got even closer to you. Opening and closing your mouth like a fish, hoping something would come out eventually, you stilled upon feeling his gloved hands gingerly touching your face - dwarfing you in them - and you swore your heart was about to leap from your chest to your throat in a matter of seconds. His steely gaze flickered downwards briefly before returning to your eyes, asking for permission for something you didn’t even know quite right what it was, but that you’d give him regardless. The rough texture of his gloved left hand reached your now slightly parted lips as he traced the bottom of them with his thumb, moving his other hand to slowly lift up his balaclava just enough to expose his - unsurprisingly - sharp, stubbled jaw and full, lightly scarred lips. You barely had time to admire what you could see of him before his face was merely inches apart from yours, your breaths mingling together from both of your parted lips.
“You don’t even know what I look like.” He mumbled against you. A silent beg for you to stop him now, but you wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I don’t care.” You breathed back, voice barely above a whisper, and that seemed to break his resolve, as in the next moment he was leaning in and finally capturing your lips with his. 
Kissing Simon Riley in real life was so much better than what you imagined. His height made it that he had to lean down an awkward amount to reach you and you actually had to stand a bit on your toes, but none of that mattered as you finally felt his lips move against yours, surprisingly slow and gentle for a man that looked like that, but you supposed he was always full of surprises. He moved his hands from your face to your waist, gripping with a little more force when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, encouraging him to kiss you harder - it would be a waste not to feel just how strong those huge arms of his could get wrapping around you. Groaning into your mouth, his touch soon became ravenous as he tasted you like a starved man, both of you now knowing it might as well be the last time you’d see each other, but you didn’t want to dwell too much on it, choosing instead to focus on the way he gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the counter as if you weighed nothing, getting even impossibly closer to your smaller frame, never breaking the kiss. You felt like you could stay wrapped up in his arms for hours, but at some point you had to part your lips, keeping your foreheads touching and looking at each other without saying another word.
He waited until you closed up and walked you to your car again; except, this time, as you watched his retreating figure from the rearview mirror, your chest felt constricted, the unsureness of if he’d ever come back alive clenching your throat in fear. 
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
The late june spring air smelled good, and you were in high spirits. 
You hummed contently, cleaning with a paper towel wet with soapy water the last smudges on the inked skin, leaning back to admire your work. The black crow on his upper back turned out particularly good, and you found it amusing how its edgy nature went along well with the other tattoos already on his body. Spreading the hydrating vaseline to wrap the piece up took a little more than you’d take with other clients, since you were busy admiring and feeling up the strong, scarred back beneath your fingertips. 
“All done!” 
The man got up, admiring the crow in an awkward angle in front of the full body mirror, and you couldn’t help but keep staring at the muscular back and pecs that you could see from your position in your chair.
“Quit the ogling.”
His voice sounded gruffy, but slightly amused, which made you chuckle and get up, stopping by his side to lean against his huge arms and stare back at him through the mirror.
“Quit being hot, then.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but you knew he was smiling under the mask and possibly had the slightest red dusting his cheeks - since he was so pale, you’d always notice it when he had his mask off, and in turn, he’d always notice how you’d stare at his face with a smug smile. He looked over the tattoo once more before you wrapped it up, past the stage of giving him the instructions, all of them already second nature to him, considering it had been so many years he started getting tattooed by you.
“You know” You started as he followed you to the front door of the mostly empty studio, the only other sound being the tattoo machine of a single other coworker that was staying late in their own procedure room. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know I still got another client and it should take one or two hours more.” 
Ghost huffed, turning to you with his hands on his jacket pockets, the height difference between you never failing to take all the air out of your lungs.
“Nonsense. He’s not supposed to be here for another half an hour, right? I’ll go grab us some dinner from that place you like and I’ll be right back. I’ll help you close up then we can go home.” 
You shook your head with a giggle, watching as he came closer to you, and were about to protest more but he gave you a look that left no chance for you to be stubborn, shutting you right up. Taking one hand out of his pocket, Simon lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jaw - which you had already admired that morning while he was shaving - and his lips, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling him murmur just so you could hear it.
“See you in a minute, love.”
With that, he left, leaving you to watch fondly his retreating form from the glass door, as you chuckled dreamily one last time and went back to your procedure room.
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swiftispunk · 8 months
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your summer dream | joel miller x f!reader
day two–show
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pairing: joel miller x fem!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 7k series summary: fresh on the heels of the worst breakup of your life, you find an unexpected kindred spirit (and maybe a little more) in family friend joel miller, who's agreed to tag along for seven days to a tropical resort with you and your parents. series warnings etc:[NO OUTBREAK] we'll call him dad's buddy!joel, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/50), alcohol, food, sexual tension, smut like whoa smut (will specify with each chapter), fluff, anxiety, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, jet skis????, secret relationship. chapter summary: a day by the pool with joel (and an evening by the bar) leaves you wondering if your attraction flows both ways. meanwhile, joel grapples with his own feelings. chapter warnings: brief smut, masturbation (m), sexually explicit thoughts, sexual tension, alcohol, food, flirting flirting flirting, even MORE gratuitous descriptions of joel miller's body, some joel POV. no use of y/n.
A/N: shoutout to everyone who enjoyed and supported the first chapter of this little story! i'm having a ball with this and hope you all are too.
followers suggestions in this chapter: chilling poolside, drunken confessions, reading glasses, same book (shoutout to @saradika for the idea of which book!), reader breaks her swimsuit, ~sunscreen~
You're unceremoniously awoken by sunlight streaming through your balcony doors. You'd gone in and out of sleep all night, restless despite how tired you'd been. 
It's still fairly early according to the alarm clock on your bedside table, but it's far too bright in your suite to get back to sleep now. Besides, you're starving and eager to see what wonders await you at the resort's breakfast buffet. 
You take a much-needed shower before throwing on the one and only bathing suit you'd packed (the same one you've owned for years) and slipping a semi-sheer cover-up over top. You're not sure what your day will look like but you have every intention of spending it near a body of water, at the very least. With that in mind, you pack a beach bag with a few essentials just in case. 
You're just starting to properly wake up as you head out into the hallway, only to collide head on with something firm and warm.
"Oh, shit–" you mumble when two strong hands grip your shoulders to steady you. You look up to find–
It's Joel. 
"Sorry–sorry," you mumble, making to back away, but his hands stay resting on your forearms, holding you in place. "Uh, morning."
"Mornin'," he greets you, seemingly unbothered, sleepy smile already plastered to his face. You catch the moment it falters when his eyes drag over you in your half-dressed state, flicking quickly to your chest before landing on your face again, his hands quickly falling from your shoulders as he clears his throat rather pointedly. 
Clocked.
"Headin' to breakfast?" he asks. "I need a coffee."
You blink at him a few times, taking him in for yourself now that you're not glued to his chest. He's wearing dark blue swim trunks that hit just above the knee, paired with a loose white button-down that, like last night, reveals a portion of his neck and chest. In the light of day, you notice the sparse patch of hair there, a delicious detail you'd failed to pick up on in your tired, tipsy state the night before.  
"Um…yeah," you stammer, admittedly a bit dazed.
"Blue Lagoon don't feel too good the next day," Joel says with a lop-sided grin as you make your way towards the elevators.
"No, it really doesn't," you agree with a responding smile of your own. 
God, for how miserable you thought you'd be here, Joel sure has a way of making you fucking smile. 
-
You go for the waffles at the breakfast buffet (really leaning into vacation mode) while Joel trails along beside you, opting for eggs and bacon. 
"Quite the spread," he remarks and he's not wrong. The buffet is packed with people but the food is just as abundant. You're particularly drawn to the vast plates of fresh tropical fruit, some of which you've never even seen before. You wonder if your dad will have anything negative to say about it. Probably.
Alas, his first gripe of the day is reserved for you two.
"About time!" he exclaims when you and Joel finally locate your parents' table. 
"It's literally 8 a.m., dad."
"We got up early to watch the sunrise," he says like it's a brag, nodding towards your mother.
"Congratulations." Like you don't have all week to catch a sunrise or two.
"Oh, and we met this sweet older couple from Massachusetts, called Bill and Frank," your mom chimes in. "They offered to take us out on their boat today! Well, Frank offered, anyway."
"Cool," you nod, digging into your waffles. They're delicious of course but the real treat comes with the realization that it's the first time in months you're eating something for breakfast that isn't instant oatmeal. 
"Do you want to come?" your mom presses when you don't immediately offer up your presence.
"I think I just wanna chill by the pool, to be honest."
"Joel?"
You turn to look at his reaction. You find yourself kind of hoping he won't go, that maybe he'll stay here with you instead. If you'd have told yourself even eighteen hours ago that you'd be wishing for that, you'd have never believed it.
"Not so good on boats," Joel confesses. "Think I'll hang back too."
You clock the way his answer makes your chest pang with a mixture of relief and anticipation.
He's staying with you. Why does that feel so exciting?
"Oh, lovely!" your mother squeals with delight. "The two of you can hang out!"
You and Joel share a friendly smile, while you work to rein yourself in. You're admittedly curious to see where a day with Joel could go, to see if you'd only felt so attracted to him last night on account of lack of sleep and a Blue Lagoon.
With the way he's looking at you now, all soft and cordial, warm brown eyes that make your heart hurt in the strangest way, you're already starting to worry it might have been more than that.
-
You head straight to the pool after breakfast.
You don't know what your dad had been talking about, because the pool is fucking massive as far you can see. Mostly rectangular with two large rounded edges on either side, plus an alcove that leads to a section covered by a straw canopy, it's hardly what you'd call cramped.
It's still early enough that you manage to find two vacant chaises side-by-side. You suddenly feel a bit self-conscious as you prepare to strip off your cover-up (not that it leaves much to imagination in the first place). Joel, meanwhile, is quick to strip off his t-shirt and sandals, tossing them into a heap under his chaise. He empties his pockets and adds their contents to his pile. 
Your eyes widen inadvertently at the sight of his bare chest, all tan skin and sloping muscles that give way to a soft and inviting belly. Your assessment from the night before lingers, ringing truer now than ever before.
Joel Miller is truly a goddamn spectacle. 
Before he can catch you ogling, you steel yourself and remove the cover-up, revealing your black bikini beneath. You know you look good in it, even if you hardly break it out, but your diffidence flares in front of Joel nonetheless. Especially when you notice him eyeing you as you adjust the fraying, old straps, bending over to fold your cover-up neatly onto your chaise. You take your time applying sunscreen to every visible inch of your skin, focusing hard on the task, unsure if Joel is still watching you. When you finish and meet his gaze, you catch the moment his eyes switch from foggy to attentive.
He smiles, quickly collecting himself before you can read too much into it.
"You goin' in?" he sort of croaks, gesturing towards the water.
"I'll be right there."
He lumbers off, doggedly lowering himself to sit on the edge of the pool, dipping his feet in while you watch from behind. His broad back is…yet another wondrous sight to behold.
Jesus Christ, you need to stop staring.
He plunges in the rest of the way and you finally follow suit, wading in from the shallow end while Joel swims deeper. The pool's not too crowded yet and thankfully, you're at an adults-only resort, meaning no noisy kids to splash around and spoil the serenity of it all. 
The water's nice, refreshing but not cold, the perfect antidote to the thick, humid air. You glance up, taking in the sky for the first time today; cloudless and the brightest hue of blue you've ever seen.
You sigh, plugging your nose before submerging yourself fully in the chlorinated water.
You let your body float naturally to the surface till your face emerges from below, breathing in a gulp of air as you spread out on your back. You keep your ears under the water as you stare up at the sky. The water muffles any noise from above and you let your eyes slip closed, basking in the moment of peace. 
You try to empty your mind for once, to let the silent solitude of the moment wash over you. It's not so bad, you think, solitude. You could survive on your own if it was like this. Quiet, no responsibilities. Floating without direction. You could manage that.
You're sure that time is passing but you don't let it worry you, content to just soak in the hush. Eventually, your reverie is disturbed by a low voice cutting through the fog, words garbled through the water in your ears. You tilt your head up to find Joel treading water just a few feet away from you, bemused expression on his face.
"Y'alright?" he asks. 
"Oh yeah, sorry," you straighten out, kicking your feet and swirling your arms to stay afloat. You hadn't realized how deep you'd drifted. "Zoned out."
"Thought I was gonna have to save ya." He's smiling again, that same charming, distracting smile that's been making your heart race since last night. He's within arms' reach of you now, close enough that you could stretch your hand out under the water and touch the soft skin on his thighs–if you'd felt so inclined of course.
Fuck, you need to get it together. He's fucking fifty. He's your dad's friend. You just got out of a relationship.
"No, I–I'm good," you stammer, shaking your head to dislodge any leftover water caught in your ears and also maybe to knock some fucking sense back into yourself. "I think I'm gonna get out for a bit. Getting pruney."
Joel just nods, letting you go. You feel his eyes on you as you swim back to your chaise, wonder if they're still on you when you pull yourself out of the water and onto the ledge. You don't look back until you're comfortably sitting in your chair, kicking up your feet and slipping in your headphones. 
You try not to stare. You try to just focus on your music and close your eyes, to relax and ignore the steadily growing infatuation that's now threatening to swallow you whole.
Fifty, you scream to yourself again, an incessant refrain. Your dad's friend.
...who looks fucking mesmerizing as he laps back and forth in the clear, chemical water, curls slicked back and soaked so they turn a dark shade of brown.
God, you are so fucked. 
When he hoists himself out of the water after several long minutes, you have to bite your lip to hold back your reaction. As he shakes out his wet curls, splashing drops of water in your direction, you're once again enraptured by the sight of his bare upper body, reflecting shiny sunlight off the rivulets of water that collect on his shoulders. 
You're fucking staring again.
You throw on your sunglasses and lie back in your chaise, closing your eyes, as though you'd been doing that all along instead of openly ogling the man taking his seat beside you now. You pull out a headphone out of politeness.
"More Fleetwood Mac?" he asks.
"Mhm," you hum, playing cool. 
It's quiet for a moment as Joel gets comfortable and you shut your eyes again. You drift away briefly till his voice pulls you back.
"S'alright, we don't gotta share this time."
You turn back to him to find he's still looking at you, just out of the corner of his eye where he rests his head against the back of his chaise.
"I can take a break, sorry," you say guiltily, yanking out the other headphone and tossing them, along with your phone, under your chaise. 
"S'alright," he repeats with a smile and a wave of one of his big hands. "What were you thinkin' about in there?"
That takes you aback.
"What?"
He's looking at you all dolefully, brown eyes squinting against the bright, tropical sun.
"I'm not tryna pry or nothin'. S'just–sometimes I get quiet when I'm thinkin' about stuff too."
You frown, unsure of how to answer. You also wonder briefly what exactly Joel thinks about when he's quiet.
"I guess I was thinking about…how I'm gonna have to learn to be okay with being alone."
You stare down at your toes when you say it, a tinge of unintended sadness coating your voice. You'd gone almost all day without thinking about Chris, Joel's presence a welcome diversion. You prepare now for the onslaught of emotion to hit. 
But it doesn't come.
Joel just nods thoughtfully, no judgment in his reaction over your moment of earnestness. You expect him to ask another question, or perhaps make a comment, but he does neither, just lets your truth hang in the warm, salty air.
It's unnervingly considerate. 
"I don't really want to get into it," you admit after a moment. Joel smiles. 
"That's fine," he says, sitting back again and closing his eyes, appearing instantly at peace, his lip twitching ever so before his features soften and he melts into the chaise. 
Fuck. You swallow harshly and pull your gaze away from him before you really start thinking dangerously. 
Several minutes pass in comfortable silence, the sun's warm rays beating down on the two of you as the pool area fills with guests. After a while of bathing in the sun's warmth, Joel pulls a book from his heap of belongings along with a pair of reading glasses. He slips them on and cracks open his book. Your jaw drops.
"You're reading City of Thieves?" you demand disbeleivingly.
He slides his glasses down his nose as he faces you. "Oh, yeah. Sarah recommended it. S'good."
Sarah. Right. His daughter. Because Joel is fifty (and your dad's friend).
But more importantly–
You reach under your chaise to pull out your own copy of the exact same book, weathered by time and repeated rereads, holding it up for Joel to see.
"Well, ain't that a coincidence?" he grins.
"Tell me about it."
You flop back into your chaise, heart pounding. It's one thing for Joel to be drop-dead gorgeous. But this? This feels like a cruel sign from the universe designed specifically to draw you even further into him.
Another few moments of quiet and then the blazing heat eventually reminds you to reapply your sunscreen. Now there's no missing the way Joel glances over at you as you rub the cream over your thighs, the way his breath hitches when you run your hand over your chest and coat the skin there with the thick stuff. 
You shouldn't be enjoying it, that feeling of an older man's eyes all over you (fifty, your dad's friend) and you especially shouldn't tingle with adrenaline when he softly–almost shyly–asks if you, "need a hand?" as you attempt to reach over your shoulder to get your back.
"Nothin' weird," he assures you when you stare blankly at him in response. Well, that's a thing people only say when something definitely is weird, but–
"Okay."
He shuffles over from his chaise to sit behind you on the edge of yours. He holds his hand out for the bottle of sunscreen and you pass it to him over your shoulder. You hear him squirt it into his palm, rubbing his hands together before colliding them with your shoulder blades.
You can't help but shiver at his touch. The cream is cool against your skin while Joel's fingers are rough and calloused, a dizzying combination that makes your spine go rigid while he works his palms over your upper back. 
"So how old are you now, anyway?" he asks quietly. He sounds polite, maybe just curious, but the timing of the question feels suggestive at best. You burn with the feeling that there's something lurking beneath it.
"Um, twenty-eight."
He whistles softly, his hands moving in careful circles over your skin, lower now, closer to the middle of your back, his fingers briefly hooking around your waist. "Crazy."
"Why?" You fucking hate how breathless you sound. The moment feels so goddamn intimate that you keep scanning the crowd around you, as if you might get caught, as if there's anything inherently wrong with a man helping you apply sunscreen.
With Joel, something about it feels wrong.
"Just…twenty-eight," Joel murmurs. He sounds a bit distant himself. "It's hard to believe."
"Too young?" you find yourself wondering aloud. 
"Uh…no," he ponders as he reaches your lower back, trailing his fingers just barely above your bikini line. You hold your breath as your question finally seems to catch up with him, pulling his hands off you all too quickly. 
"Wait–for what?" he implores, peering over your shoulder at him. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "I mean–no," he repeats.
Okay, you're not crazy, you're definitely picking up something here; Joel seems almost as flustered as you. There's no way you could be misinterpreting this response, no way you've been miscalculating his lingering stares. 
You decide to test the waters, literally and figuratively. You clear your throat and rise from the chaise.
"Gonna go back in. You wanna come?"
Joel clears his throat, his hands in his lap as he nods towards the pool. "You go ahead."
He's smiling, friendly enough, but his eyes appear downright fiery. You feel them burning into the back of you as you walk away, heading for the deepest, emptiest part of the pool. You chance a glance in his direction as you line up your toes up with the lip of the pool, only to find he's still sitting in that same spot, watching you. Good.
You raise your arms above your head, arching your back and rising to your tippy toes before shallowly diving in. You hit the water with a quiet splash, skimming just below the surface and pumping your arms a few times before rising up for air. Your eyes promptly find Joel, still watching, smiling now. It's such an intoxicating sight that you almost don't notice the way your chest feels cooler than it should, pool water making contact with parts of you it hadn't been before.
You glance downwards, mortified to find your chest is bare below the surface of the water, your bathing suit top clinging for dear life around your middle. The worn-out halter strap must have snapped when you'd hit the water. 
Shit shit shit.
You hastily pull the fabric of your top back over your exposed breasts, cupping them in place and wrapping your arms across your chest for good measure. For the first time today, you're praying Joel isn't looking at you. 
No such luck. As you speedily make your way to the shallow end, scrambling out of the pool by the stairs, your arms still wrapped protectively over yourself, Joel's eyes are all over you, grinning as you rejoin him by your chaises.
"That was pretty good–hey, what's up?"
He quickly clues in to your distress as you awkwardly attempt to pack up your beach bag without your tits spilling out of your arms. 
"Uh…I just gotta run," you tell him, unable to meet his gaze as your burn with embarrassment. "I'll see you later."
"Wait up–"
But you're already darting off, dripping water in your wake. 
-
"How was your day?" your mom asks you as you're finishing up dinner, a much more casual affair than the night before. Joel'd changed into a pair of white shorts and a light blue t-shirt, his cheeks glowing a light shade of pink after his day in the sun. He'd been the first to leave the table as soon as he'd finished eating, letting you and your parents know he'd be at the resort bar. He'd given you an extra smile and a subtle wink as he'd turned to walk away–a signal to follow maybe? You couldn't be sure. 
You, meanwhile have thrown on your favourite flowing sundress, the swimsuit you'd been wearing earlier now relegated to the trash. You're pretty sure there's a little shop somewhere at this resort, though you're certain the prices are going to be exorbitant. Whatever, you can't go a whole week without getting back in the water at some point. 
Of course, you could have gone today but instead, you'd spent most of the remainder of your afternoon sulking in your room, watching Friends reruns as you'd grappled with your stupid wardrobe malfunction.
"It was nice," you mutter distractedly, staring off in the direction Joel had gone, still wondering if he'd been beckoning you to follow him. The thought has you feeling restless, suddenly anxious to go find him. Even if he hadn't been suggesting you join him…you could just…happen upon him at the bar yourself. It's vacation, where else would you go after dinner at an all-inclusive resort? It wouldn't be weird to go there and just, accidentally run into him, right?
God, what is it about this man that has you overthinking your every fucking move?
Fifty. Your dad's friend. 
"How was the boat?" you inquire, tearing your eyes from the buffet's exit and refocusing on your parents sitting across from you with empty plates and full glasses.
"Actually pretty awesome," your father says, surprising you. "Bill's a character. Frank's nice."
Your mother nods her agreement and they share a knowing look. 
"Nice," you hum distantly, not really focused enough to ask for further details. "Well, it's cool you guys found some friends. You gonna hang out with them again?"
"We said we'd see about it," your mom shrugs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to go the spa. And then day after next, you've got golf with Joel, right, honey?"
She turns her attention to your father who nods around a sip of his beer. 
"Maybe you and me grab lunch that day," she suggests, to you this time.
"Sure," you agree easily.
"And, we'll just see where the week takes us after that!" your mother concludes.
You smile tightly and decide it's as good a time as any to excuse yourself.
"Alright, well, I'm gonna go, uh…I'm gonna go,” you stammer as you rise from the table. Your brain short-circuits, struggling with whether or not to tell them you're going to the bar, weirdly afraid they'll follow you. Weirdly eager to be alone with Joel again now that your tits aren't threatening to make an unwanted appearance.
"Okay, sweetie, we're gonna head down to the beach party in a bit, if you want to come find us later," your mother tells you. "No pressure, though. Remember, this is your time."
Christ, eyeroll. At least she seems to be pacing herself today (less free booze on a boat, you imagine). Plus, you know she means well. You keep that same smile planted on your face as you tell them maybe, before darting off towards the bar, grateful and undeniably giddy that it'll just be you and Joel.
-
The space is mostly patio, a covered area that overlooks the quietest end of the beach (far from the party your parents are attending), complete with a large circular bar taking up the centre of the room and a dance floor surrounded by seating. It's neutral enough that you imagine it's easy to modify for each of the themed parties it hosts nightly. Tonight, the dance floor is partially taken up but a stage set-up. You check the handwritten signage on your way in: live music night.
It's still fairly early, the bar is only just starting to fill up, mostly with older couples sipping on wine. You spot Joel immediately, sitting at a stool at the bar, the seats on either side of him empty. He smiles when he catches your eye and it takes everything in you not to break into a sprint as you cross to him. 
"Hey," you say, feigning calm as you approach.
"Hey," he replies warmly, with no trace of resentment for you ditching him so abruptly earlier. "Glad you came. S'it just you?"
"Um, yeah, is that okay?"
"'Course," Joel assures you as you nod and take a seat on the stool beside his. He leans against the bar, his big hands clutching a crystal glass of amber liquid. You nod your chin towards it with a knowing smile. 
"No Blue Lagoon?"
Joel grins.
"Thought I'd stick with bourbon this time around." He proves his point by lifting the glass to his lips and taking a hearty sip. 
"Alright, I'll get the same then," you shrug, hoping he'll appreciate your turning of the tables. He looks a bit impressed–good.
The bartender appears and you tell him what you'd told Joel: the same. You can feel Joel watching you as the bartender presents you with the drink (bourbon, neat), catch him smirking out of the corner of your eye when you swallow it down in one gulp, throwing your head back and relishing its sweet burn.
"Good?" he chuckles. 
"Good," you confirm, voice tight as the alcohol stings at your throat. "I prefer rye, though."
It's not not true. You'd really prefer tequila, but if you're going to drink whiskey, you are partial to rye. 
Joel smiles, downing what's left of his own drink before signaling the bartender for two more. You fall back into that same comfortable silence that you'd found earlier by the pool. But when Joel shoots back his second bourbon with near-anxious vigour, you sense a change in the atmosphere, a fresh urgency. You consider copying him but opt to sip yours instead, to at least try to keep your wits about you for a while.
"So," Joel finally starts, turning to face you with one arm still leaning on the bar top. "Twenty-eight, huh?"
If the question of your age had felt loaded by the pool, now it fires off like a round of canons, explosive and certain. He looks innocent enough, but it's like the cogs are turning in his brain, like he's trying to come to terms with something vital.
You work to keep things light.
"You seem to be fixating on that." You sip your bourbon and Joel smirks, shaking his head and staring down at his sandals. 
"S'just hard to believe," he admits. "I remember when you were…'bout this big." He holds his hand up roughly three feet off the ground.
You scowl.
"Well, that was a long time ago." You toss your hair over your shoulder and fucking wink at him, sitting up straighter to give him a better view of your very grown-up body. 
Maybe it's a little bold–whatever. Your mind is just screaming at you to steer him as far away from infantilization as possible. Besides, it seems to elicit the response you're (apparently) looking for; Joel stiffens beside you and his already pink cheeks flush an even darker shade of red as he grins, gesturing to the bartender, once again, for another drink.
"How old are you?" you press him. You already know the answer (your brain's been reminding you of it all day) but you want to hear him say it. 
"Old," is his sardonic response. 
"Come on." Say it. 
"Fifty," he concedes as his third bourbon materializes before him. 
You nod, contemplative. Part of you had thought if you'd heard it in his deep, gravelly voice, that it would somehow break the spell, a concrete reminder that yes, he is fifty, over twenty years older than you. But no. If anything, it makes your pulse quicken and your stomach flutter, almost the exact opposite effect you'd been hoping for. 
"Well, you don't look–"
"Don't lie to me now," Joel cuts you off with a chiding look. 
"You don’t look fifty." It's not a lie. 
His responding smile feels a little sad as his brown eyes scan your face for any trace of deceit.  
"Feel it," he hums at last. 
It makes you want to reach out and touch him, maybe place one of your hands over his where it rests on the bar top. 
Too much, too much, too much. 
"Why'd you run off today?" he asks suddenly, pulling your attention away from his hand and back to his face. 
Well, you guess you should've expected that question. You sip your drink to buy you some time. 
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask that."
"Don't gotta tell me, just curious."
Typical Joel, you're starting to realize. Never one to pry. 
"It's kind of embarrassing," you admit and Joel just smiles, waiting. You finish the rest of your drink and shake your head, liquid courage coursing you through you when you finally tell him,
"My swim suit busted." Joel's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I was about to flash the entire pool."
You shake your head again, burning with embarrassment at the memory, a small laugh catching in your throat at the absolute ridiculousness of it all. Joel's laughing too, but he's also shifting slightly in his stool to face the bar, rather pointedly taking another sip of his drink. 
"S'too bad," he says eventually, the hint of a smile playing at his lips as his gaze almost unwittingly flits downward over your chest. "Bet you woulda given 'em quite the show."
Now it's your turn to stiffen in your seat, burning at his words and the way his eyes hover just a little too long on the curve of your tits poking through the thin fabric of your sundress before finding your face again. 
You brush it off with a nervous laugh, working to regain your composure.
Fifty, your dad's friend. 
"Yeah, or permanent trauma," you joke, only the phantom suggestion of a waver in your voice. 
At that, Joel breaks into a throaty laugh, the brewing tension between you momentarily splitting.
"The real kicker is, I only packed the one," you tell him shamefully.
Joel makes a face at that but before he can respond, your conversation is interrupted by the sound of a guitar tuning up over the bar's speakers. You and Joel both turn to see the live musician taking the stage and a crowd beginning to to gather on the dance floor. You've been so consumed with Joel that you hadn't noticed the space busying up around you. The bar is nearly full now.
The booming echo of the musician introducing himself carries out through the amplifier before he's diving into a below-average rendition of Brown-Eyed Girl. It's loud–much louder than the gentle music that had been playing when you'd arrived. You have to raise your voice several levels and lean in close to Joel's to ear for him to hear you when you ask him, 
"How long do you think before he plays Margaritaville?"
Joel's face splits into a toothy grin, beckoning to you to come closer when he all but shouts back, 
"Ten bucks he plays Sweet Caroline first."
His deep voice vibrates against your eardrum, sending goosebumps down your arms and an unexpected wave of sparks to your core. You swallow it back as you pull away from him.
"Alright, you're on," you yell, holding out a hand between your bodies. He shakes it with a smile. 
-
"This guy kinda sucks," Joel's voice booms into the hollow of your ear.
You've found your way to the dance floor for a better view of the show, lingering around the outskirts of the audience near a wooden pillar, drinks in hand. You've lost count of how many you've had by now. You're definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol as you stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Joel, tingling at the proximity and the warmth that's radiating off his body.
It's darker now, a spotlight fixed on the musician as purple fairy lights sparkle around the perimeter of the bar's ceiling. A disco ball hangs unlit above the dancefloor, but every so often the spotlight catches it, throwing beams of glittering luminescence over the crowd. 
Right now, you're especially taken by the way Joel's eyes are glittering in the faint glow of the fairy lights and the thin veil of sweat that coats his flushed cheeks. 
"He does kind of," you laugh. Joel's not wrong. The musician is fine at best, his voice straining to hit some of the notes in the Billy Joel classic he's currently attempting. Joel leans against the pillar and your body unconsciously follows, his lips finding your ear again. 
"You know, your dad and I used to play in a band."
"What?"
"Long time ago," he elaborates. "When I was about your age, actually. S'how we met."
"Wow. I didn't know that. What did you play?"
"Guitar. And vocals."
"Wow," you repeat.
You peel yourself away from him to find he's grinning sheepishly, clearly pleased to have been the one to share that little tidbit of information with you. You know your dad used to be somewhat musically inclined, but you hadn't known that about Joel. You're suddenly overcome at the thought of him with a guitar in his hands, imagining how his thick fingers would look while expertly pressing down against the strings. Fuck. 
"Your old man used to be cooler," Joel jokes. It snaps you out of your reverie and you finally return his smile.
"Well, at least you're still cool."
He gives you that look again, the one that feels like he's searching you for clues that you're lying. You know he won't find any. You really mean it. Joel is cool. And sweet. And fucking hot.
And fifty. And your dad's friend. 
"Hardly," he says.
Your attention is pulled back to the stage when the final notes of Piano Man ring out, applause erupting around you before the musician addresses the crowd to ask if anyone has seen his, "lost shaker of salt."
"Hah!" you exclaim triumphantly as he starts to play the familiar opening chords of Margaritaville. You turn back to Joel with a hand outstretched. "Gotcha, Miller. Pay up."
Joel stares at your beckoning hand, chewing on his lip and smirking as you bounce excitedly before him. You raise your eyebrows expectantly. 
At last, he places one of his massive hands over yours. Your eyes widen at his touch but it's gone all too soon, as he gently pushes your arm back down to your side before letting it go. 
"How 'bout I just buy ya drink instead?”
Your jaw drops indignantly and you brazenly smack his shoulder, your tipsiness really showing now. 
"The drinks are free!"
"The tips ain't," he protests. Okay, he's got you there. 
"Alright, fine," you give in, rather easily if you're honest. You're already leading him back towards the bar, Joel following closely behind you. "But I'm getting it to go, I can't listen to this guy anymore."
Plus, your social battery is nearing its limit, exacerbated by the booze coursing through your veins.
"You leavin'?" you hear him ask behind you. You think he sounds a bit disappointed.
"Oh–or I could stay," you fumble, shaking your head frantically as you backtrack. "Or you could–I mean, I was just gonna head back to my room. It's getting kinda late."
You'd almost slipped, told him he could come hang out in your room if he really wanted to–but you'd caught yourself. It's too much, too close to something else. If it were any other person, maybe it would be fine, but with Joel…something about inviting him into your room feels like a heated offer. It shouldn't feel that way, but it does. 
He checks his watch and shrugs. "Guess you're right."
Thankfully, he doesn't question you further, just orders you another whiskey (specifying rye this time) and offers to walk you back to your suite.
You almost change your mind when you get to your door, almost risk it all and just ask if he wants to come in, but you don't. 
"Thanks for the drink," you tell him, the subtle slur in your voice more noticeable now in the quiet of the hotel hallway.
"Anytime," he says genuinely. "Thanks for uh, hangin' out."
"Of course." Again, you mean it.
You think that's the end of it, one hand already on your doorknob. But then he goes on, his voice lower now, drawl thick.
"S'nice to have a–a friend, I guess," he smiles faintly, his eyes fixed on the patterned carpet beneath his feet. "Was worried I'd be spendin' all my time here on my own. N'I know you're younger and probably don't wanna be hangin' out with me–"
"That's not true," you cut in, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. His skin feels hot under your touch. "I'm glad I'm not alone, either."
"And I'm not that young," you add for good measure as you drop your hand, clocking the way it makes his breath catch, the way he squirms where he stands before you're wishing him goodnight and ducking into your room.
You take a steadying breath the second the door clicks shut behind you.
Fuck.
You ponder his words as you change out of your dress and into one of the white hotel robes.
It is nice to have a friend in Joel. You don't disagree. But as you sit out on your balcony that night, sipping your rye and staring out into the dark ocean, one persistent thought remains: you'd be perfectly okay with him being much, much more. 
-
Joel Miller is a good man, or so he likes to think so.
He'd raised his only daughter all on his own, bailed his brother out of jail more times than he'd care to admit. He's hardly missed a day of work in his life, even when his back had started giving him trouble and his knees had begun to weaken.
He's not perfect, of course not. He's gotten into a fight or two, said some things to some people he regrets. He should call your dad more instead of always waiting for an invite. He should've been better for Tess, he knows that. 
But when he weighs his flaws against his various successes, Joel thinks he's done alright.
He's never done anything he'd rank as being categorically abhorrent. 
Because Joel Miller is a good man.
But he's starting to think you might change that.
After all, he is…just a man.
A man who's not immune to the attention of a beautiful woman. Isn't immune to the soft curves of a gorgeous body in a bikini or the power of a longing stare, not unlike the ones you keep shooting his way, the ones he's sure he's not misreading, the ones that leave him mystified as to what it is you're seeing.
But it's more than that. Joel's captivated by everything about you. Your wit, your intelligence, hell, you even know your goddamn whiskey. If you were anyone else in the world, he'd have made a move by now.
But you aren't anyone. You're his buddy's daughter.
Joel Miller is a good man and what he wants from you…is very, very bad.
That doesn't stop him from holding the vision of you laid out on your chaise in his mind as he takes his cock in his hand that night. He waits as long as he can help it, staving off the urge to touch himself till he's certain you're asleep. But truthfully, he's been aching since he'd left you at your door, steadily growing harder the longer he'd been alone, consumed by the memory of your touch, your voice, your body.
In the quiet confines of his adjoining room with yours, he strokes himself in slow, methodical pumps, imagining you laid out on his sheets instead of the chaise, bare rather than hiding under the fabric of your bikini. Bare like you'd been by the pool, breasts squeezed against your chest as you'd fought to conceal them. He hadn't known your swimsuit had broken at the time, but now that he does...he'll never be able to get that picture out of his head.
Fuck, he wants his hands all over you. He could barely keep it together when he'd had them on your back by the pool, his cock coming alive under his trunks just at the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers. It had been too risky, stupid. He should have known better.
Now, he fists his cock tighter and increases the pace of his strokes when he considers what he'd do with you, how he'd really like touch you. How he'd rip that sheer dress you'd worn to breakfast into pieces just to get at your body and taste your skin. How he'd kiss his way over your chest, down your tummy, between your thighs and then– 
A low moan slips his lips and a bead of precum collects at the tip of his dick when he thinks the worst, when he imagines getting his mouth on you, when he fantasizes about what your pussy would feel like on his tongue, how badly he wants to make you feel good; you've looked so fucking sad, he just wants to–
Another moan, louder this time, and he has to bite his lip to contain the lewd sounds that threaten to escape him.
What if you aren't asleep? What if you can hear him? Fuck. What if, actually, he wants you to?
It's that thought that has heat growing in his belly, orgasm coming on quick despite the alcohol in his system. He squeezes his eyes shut as his muscles constrict and then release. Hot seed spills over his knuckles in thick ropes as he sighs raggedly, his head falling back against the down pillow, his last thought of your lips on a crystal glass and exactly where he'd like to see them instead.
Jesus Christ.
The guilt kicks in the minute he comes down, stalking to the bathroom to clean himself off and coming face to face with himself in the mirror. 
What the fuck are you doing, Miller?
Jerking off to thoughts of his friend's daughter. His friend's very adult daughter, but still. It feels like a new low. 
And yet, as he splashes cold water on his sunburnt face and stares down his reflection, all he can think is how desperately he wants to sink much, much lower.
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ncteez · 1 year
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charity f*ck (k.s)
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Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Well, yeah, your first time was both losing your own and taking someone else’s but, that was a long time ago. Have you ever taken the virginity of a twenty-six-year-old man who probably should have gotten laid by now anyway? Nope. Are you about to? Yep.
or the one where soonyoung has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out.
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 
WORDCOUNT― 12.2k
PAIRING― soonyoung x afab reader 
CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex
SIDE CHARACTERS― Vernon as reader’s best friend and roommate, Seungcheol briefly as Hoshi’s friend.
WARNINGS― he’s made fun of by his friends for being a virgin, this is not an indication that you shouldn’t remain a virgin if you still are one! it’s fictional and i do not agree with mocking someone for their virginity in real life.
NOTE― i love him and i like the idea of him being clumsy during sex, i also like the idea of him being inexperienced but suuuuuuper eager to pretend he knows what he’s doing. shoutout to my redacted wife @onlyseokmins for proof reading this <3 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags―big huge dick soonyoung, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, soonyoung gets feelings like immediately when u touch him ~
“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Vernon with a chuckle. “right or left?”
Vernon snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.
“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 
You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 
“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m swiping right.”
Vernon groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 
“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”
You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-six-year-old Soonyoung and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” Vernon laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the way you do. 
Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.
~
You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 
Soonyoung: ….i’m 26, it says that in my bio
You: I think you’re lying. 
Soonyoung: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol
You: why would i help you lie to the women in our city
Soonyoung: i’m not lying!!1
You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 
You: ok, twenty-six-year-old “hoshi” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?
Soonyoung: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after
You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?
Soonyoung: yea
You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’re 26 and have never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything
Soonyoung: u don’t think im ugly? :) 
Soonyoung: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before
You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?
Soonyoung: can we stop talking about why im a virgin
You: for now, but im gonna ask again eventually.
You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 
You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.
Soonyoung, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 
Soonyoung: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 
You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 
You: 
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Grandpa Hoshi: :| 
Grandpa Hoshi: im 26
~
Okay so, here’s the thing. Soonyoung is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 
You: it’s been like four days since we started talking
Grandpa Hoshi: yep, almost five
You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?
Grandpa Hoshi: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol
You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something
Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.
Grandpa Hoshi: i do NOT have a micropenis
You: prove it
Grandpa Hoshi: right now???
You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 
You: answer my question first
It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 
Grandpa Hoshi: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 
Grandpa Hoshi: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!
He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 
You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 
Grandpa Hoshi: well, that too but 
Grandpa Hoshi: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did
You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?
Grandpa Hoshi: her boyfriend walked in
You: WHAT
You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 
Grandpa Hoshi: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend
You: phew 
Grandpa Hoshi: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 
The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 
You: yeah, sure. 
You: about the micropenis though, 
Grandpa Hoshi: right…um
A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first nude from Soonyoung. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.
You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 
Grandpa Hoshi:  just give me a sec damn
He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 
Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.
He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 
Grandpa Hoshi: [image attachment] 
In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Soonyoung though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.
You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 
Grandpa Hoshi: sorry can’t help it 
Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 
You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis
You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good, you can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.
Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now in order to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 
“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Seungcheol or some shit.
“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 
The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it was you on the other line sent his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as usual. God, this alone is enough for him right now. 
“Were you at least thinking of me?”
He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 
“Were you looking at my pictures?”
He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him right now to talk, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.
“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 
“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”
“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”
Letting me come over and actually do it? That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow.
“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 
“I can facetime you.” 
He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 
“No! no, we can facetime–”
Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.
You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.
There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Look at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.
“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”
He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.
“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”
You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 
“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Hoshi?”
“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his nickname come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. 
“This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly now as he watches between your spread legs. 
“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”
He groans again, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 
“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”
You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 
“Better?”
Soonyoung watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 
“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.
“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 
“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy.
His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 
“You want to fuck this?” You chuckle softly, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.
“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”
You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 
“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 
“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it. 
“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”
Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes it look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.
You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 
His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 
“Shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”
“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”
After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.
“Are you, um, done?” Soonyoung says, disappointed.
“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”
His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 
“You still wanna see me after this?”
You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.
“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 
“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 
“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”
You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.
~
Grandpa Hoshi: what about 3pm on thurs?
You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???
Grandpa Hoshi: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours
You: or you could just come here? 
Grandpa Hoshi: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol
You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird
Soonyoung contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 
You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 
Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. Hell, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 
Grandpa Hoshi: send ur address, ill be there :) 
~
“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Seungcheol croaks through the speaker at Soonyoung, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 
“Why do you have to say it that way?” Soonyoung groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”
“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Seungcheol laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”
Soonyoung laughs, or snorts really. 
“Oh, she’s real.”
Seungcheol sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 
“Hm? Have you already met her?”
“Kind of. We like, um,” Soonyoung pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”
Silence.
“She got naked.”
“Oh ho ho!” Seungcheol encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 
“That’s what I said!--” Soonyoung smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Seungcheol just said. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Seungcheol laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”
Then he hangs up. 
Grandpa Hoshi: do u think im a loser?
You: yeah kinda
You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Vernon.
“That him texting?” Vernon quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 
You laugh again at Soonyoung’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Vernon that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 
“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Vernon. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”
“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”
“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Soonyoung sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”
“I did not need to know that.” Vernon sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 
“You act like you’re not curious nearly every time I meet someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling.
Vernon stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 
“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 
“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”
He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 
“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”
“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 
He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 
“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on his gross body fluids when I come home.”
~
It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Soonyoung is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 
So many are you sures, so many you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos, and even more i can’t wait to see yous. 
“Vernon, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottled water. 
You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Soonyoung is doing the same, and smile.
“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”
You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.
“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”
Vernon laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 
“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 
“Thanks, that’s the plan.”
And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around eight fifteen. 
Grandpa Hoshi: i’m a little early, is that ok? 
“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Vernon. 
He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 
“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”
You give him a knowing look before nodding. 
You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.
Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Vernon is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 
Not only did Soonyoung think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 
“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 
“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Vernon smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”
Soonyoung does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Vernon and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 
“She’s excited, don’t worry.” Vernon whispers, throwing Soonyoung a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Soonyoung still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 
“Don’t mind him, that’s both my best friend and roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 
“Have you and him ever like…” Soonyoung immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 
“Vernon?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”
Immediately Soonyoung moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.
When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 
Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Soonyoung is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 
Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh. How many times he’s embarrassed himself, and now for the first time he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants, or needs. Whichever. 
“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”
Soonyoung tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 
“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the entire situation. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 
You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Soonyoung and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”
Soonyoung laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.
He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. Now he’s here, and you’re right there. It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.
You turn after grabbing him the bottle and become shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 
He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 
For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 
His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 
If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Vernon’s sake. 
“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”
“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”
Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.
You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against it this time, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 
You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.
Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 
“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 
At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.
“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”
He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and grabbing your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 
Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 
“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. Regardless of your shock at that, he seems like he’s waiting for a green light so you decide to cut the compliments short and raise your brows at him. 
“Go on then.”
You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 
He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 
He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 
It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in reaction at what he’s doing to you. 
Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 
“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” you compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Stay on my clit, use your fingers on me.” 
He hums, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 
You can feel his fingers make their way into you, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 
“Just like that,” you encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 
It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.
“So good,” you say shortly, scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 
He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.
All day, he could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.
He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach euphoria so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.
“Faster, with your fingers—“ you choke out, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 
There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.
Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 
You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 
He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his length in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.
“Did you…?” He asks softly.
You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 
“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and wanting nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, you’re gonna finally get a full blow job.”
He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.
“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.
“No, no! It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”
His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Soonyoung.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”
The light in his eyes return and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 
“Hoshi, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his nickname. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 
Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 
He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?
Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 
You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 
He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 
It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting your throat. 
How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 
He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of him and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on his length, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 
Once again, he’s in love.
He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 
“Wait, wait wait–” Soonyoung groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 
“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.
“No, i was just getting really close.”
“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 
You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 
His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 
Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it–how?
“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”
You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 
“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice, “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”
He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?
But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 
“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before. Letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”
He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 
You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 
“I don’t even know at this point.” He admits, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.
“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”
He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against it.
He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.
He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.
“Already?” 
He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 
“I want to, um, eat you out again…”
That’s new. Twice in one session? You’re not going to turn that down. 
“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”
You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 
You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?
“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 
You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 
His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 
“You have the prettiest pussy.” He says in a clear and calm voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”
You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 
“Eat it then.” you try to urge him, and he does just that. 
You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 
He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him. He eventually holds you in place against him, licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 
You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 
After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you come this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 
Given, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 
He’s really going to not let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 
He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 
You pull your body away from him, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 
“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”
He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 
“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”
“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “I need more now, and if you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”
His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–
“Promise?” He asks, knowing full well what it was. 
“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, right?”
He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 
Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.
“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no, do that again.” 
You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 
You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 
You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, he did it and you didn’t stop him.
“Are you ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 
He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 
“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”
“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 
He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit it fucking raw for the first time? 
“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”
He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 
“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 
You smile, humming at him when you lift from his length, standing on your knees to grab at his and position him in the right place. 
“You sure you’re ready for this?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 
“Fuck, yes. Just do it already.” 
You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 
He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 
By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him made you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.
“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 
He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 
Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the feeling. 
You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 
His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 
You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 
“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.
That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 
You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.
You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 
He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 
For a moment, you think you can actually hear him purr, or maybe growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 
You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.
“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”
He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from coming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 
You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 
You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 
“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, come with me–”
Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 
“Oh, shit. Wait– i’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.
He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy come around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 
It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 
Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 
By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 
He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 
~
He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.
In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (Not literally, both of you are just dramatic.)
All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Seungcheol does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 
But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other women and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.
You made him come twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.
There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.
And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.
The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 
This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 
“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a come-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”
He looks at you, and then at his food.
“Yeah, I guess I should…” 
“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”
It’s silent for a minute.
“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”
Thank fuck Soonyoung is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.
You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 
Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?
“Hey, I should probably call Vernon and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”
Soonyoung nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 
“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”
You snort at him with a laugh right as Vernon answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Soonyoung’s friend than Vernon whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 
“Hey Vernon, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 
Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Soonyoung and his phone. 
“Put him on speaker.”
5K notes · View notes
toji-girl · 26 days
Text
prickled flesh | k. bakugo
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synopsis: Your older brother uses his favoritism to his advantage, this time he unknowingly took it too far when he was able to invite his best friend Katsuki on your family vacation serving you on a platter to him.
wc: 5.8k
tags: kinktober fic + 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + all characters are over the age of 21 + repost + modern verse (no quirks au) + brother's best friend trope + teasing + age gap + pet names + height difference between you two + fingering + unprotected sex + creampie + Katsuki is condescending + very very self-indulgent + huge shoutout to @x-reader-bitch for beta reading this and feedback + reblogs & comments are super appreciated!
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Before summer ended, taking its warm days and blue skies with it, your mom and stepdad always planned a trip to a cabin they rented for a whole week for the whole family to spend quality time together before going back to your own lives. 
Your parents always claimed it was a way to bond before you and your older step-brother left to go back to college, it was a chore if you had to be quite honest lugging all your bags back and forth but this year was a little different, something you didn’t enjoy. 
It was Eijiro who convinced them to have a guest this time, breaking that one rule for their golden child, your older stepbrother. Although he is not even your mother's biological son, he still managed to worm his way to the top because he is the eldest and therefore the favorite. 
Even though you were the baby of the family it still didn’t matter, all he had to do was beam a smile and tell them that his guest wouldn’t cause any trouble making it hook line, and sinker, so naturally he won and invited Katsuki to the cabin your parents rented.
The blonde man put a rage inside your veins every time he was in close contact, the cocky sneer that graced his dumb handsome face drove you insane and he knew it as well by the way your lip curled when he was near or the way the vein in your visibly pulsed hot and heavy.  
Since he was Eijiro's friend that meant he was older as well, only by four years which he loved to hold above your head and objects that you couldn’t reach using his height as an advantage which only happened due to a growth spurt they both experienced over the last few summers, a smirk gracing his lips. “Aww, you can’t reach it, can you shortcake?” He teased. 
It was something he made sure to do at least once when he came over, and this time was no different as you attempted to pack for the trip, it was the night before and of course, it made sense for Katsuki to stay the night so he and Eijiro currently took over the living room. 
You could hear their shouts mixed in with the explicit cuss words the blonde loved to spill from his lips, it was causing a headache to crawl in the back of your skull to make home making your head thump with a doll throbbing. After shoving the last bit in your bag you stomped down the stairs to the living room and stood in front of the TV. 
“Hello? Do you two even think about the other people in this house?” You asked glaring at your brother not even giving his friend the time of day, you knew that any word uttered to him would only come back ten times in a harsh tone. They both frowned unable to pause their game but shared a look still ignoring you having a silent conversation. 
Katsuki stood and towered above you with his blonde eyebrows furrowed as he stepped closer to you forcing you to step back to put some space between you two. “Turn some music on then, now get out of the way of the TV because you’re fuckin’ everything up.” He told you in a warning voice.
You tilted your head back to look at Katsuki who crowded your personal space enough for you to pinpoint the earthy and musky scent of his body wash and cologne, then his face was in yours pressing more until you could almost count the dark red flakes in his eyes and the freckles splashed over his nose. 
It was a stare-off at this point until Eijiro broke it up grabbing the remote to turn down the shooting sounds that played from the TV, you placed your palms flat against Katsuki’s stomach ignoring the way the muscles contracted at the touch. “Now get the hell out of my way you asshat.” You pushed but there was no movement minus his lips that curled into a smirk. 
Katsuki glared down at you, the new nickname was surprising, it wasn’t one he heard and he was pretty sure you had called him every name in the book, getting under your skin was by far his favorite thing to do, the cute little pout you wore drove him crazy. He stepped back to the couch and sat down taking the remote out of Eijiro’s hand to turn the volume back up. 
He watched you storm out of the room grumbling something under your breath about how insufferable he is. “Why do you want to make her mad? I have to hear her complain about it later, and you better not piss her off on this trip or my parents won’t let you come again.” 
Eijiro warned his friend rolling his eyes as he smashed the up button making sure the TV was the loudest it could go. “If you aren’t going to bug the shit out of her then someone should do it.” Was his friend's response before returning his attention to the flat screen. 
The red-headed man was glad his friend didn’t pine after his little sister like most of his friends did, instead, he treated you almost as if you were his sister too, even though Eijiro was sweet and level-headed it still didn’t stop the sibling rivalry you two found homed in the relationship. 
Thankfully you were already upstairs when the TV was turned up and even though they wouldn’t hear it you still slammed your door shut to release some of the pent-up frustrations that built whenever you were near Katsuki, you pushed him to the side in your mind and finished packing. 
Would this year be a disaster now that he would be joining? You wondered what all Eijiro had to do to convince your parents to let him come because any time you asked to bring a friend it was always a no coupled with this is family time, but how can it be with Katsuki there? 
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When you finally made it downstairs the next morning you were met with the bane of your existence standing in front of the fridge with the doors open wide, he was the only one in the room, and the air felt like it was sucked out when you stepped inside with a scowl already. 
“Good morning to you too,” He said with a smirk as he looked over at you from his shoulder before grabbing the bottle of juice unscrewing the cap with ease bringing it up to his mouth drinking straight from the carton without a care in the world as you watched his throat bob slowly, a small river of it leaked from the corner of his mouth and down his neck. 
Your jaw dropped while staring at him, a big pet peeve of yours was him acting like he lived here and could do whatever it was and get away with it. “What the hell are you doing? That is so gross, you’re a pig.” You huffed rolling your eyes knowing he wanted you to snatch it from him. 
He continued and ignored you before putting the cap back on and placing it back where he found it then shut the doors, the whole show threatened to dig under your skin and burrow deep, it was something Katsuki really enjoyed, seeing your eye twitch a little from irritation. 
“Hello? Are you going to ignore me?” You asked as he stared at you, his eyes trained intently on yours, butterflies formed a tight ball in your lower belly it felt like, the intensity of his gaze was borderline uncomfortable and made you feel hot all over as if tiny little fires licked at your skin. 
Katsuki still stayed silent knowing exactly what buttons to push and took a step toward you then another until your back was flush against the countertop, your head tilted back a little to glare up at him, his lips were pulled into a cocky smirk knowing he had you pinned like a wild animal. 
Everything about him was big, taking up space in its eternity from his broad shoulders and chest to his arms, the corded muscles weren’t to the point of being over the top but still, you could tell he took very good care of his body and was proud of it and as he should be, a thought you hated yourself for having. “What’s the matter short-cake?” He asked in a teasing tone. 
You knew his question was rhetorical, as if he did really care, you used your go-to tactic placing your hand on his chest to give him a firm push but he never budged, no matter how hard you did either. “If you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask.” He said, voice low now. 
Both his and your eyes dropped down to your hands, subconsciously you curled your fingers a bit into the fabric of his dark shirt like you were feeling him up, just as quick as you looked you jerked your hands back and then crossed your arms over your chest not saying anything. 
Katsuki pulled back and turned out to walk out of the kitchen but not before leaving without a snide remark. “I’m getting in the shower in case you want to watch me, little perv.” Your cheeks flamed at his nickname and you knew his invitation was just to get a rise from you but still. 
Thankfully you were able to avoid him until after breakfast and when you were packing up the car, but this time Eijiro was there showing him something on his phone. “You two move out of my way.” The video Katsuki was showing your brother had them engrossed to do anything. 
They both acted like they couldn’t hear you and stood in front of the open back hatch blocking your way from putting your bag inside, your nostrils flared from the anger that settled in your belly wanting nothing more than to stomp on their feet but you knew it would result in a fight. 
Eijiro would more than likely put you in a headlock as he usually does when you get on his nerves, and that you hated more than anything. You gripped the handle of your bag and walked to the side door yanking it open and throwing it in before slamming it shut rocking the vehicle. 
“You don’t have to slam the door, we were going to move until you stomped away,” Katsuki said leaning over the back to look at you with a knowing smile that he wasn’t about to do what he said he was going to, the rage in your eyes only spurred him on to break your resolve more. 
You lifted your middle finger in the air and walked out of the garage hearing him and Eijiro go back to their video with Katsuki laughing at it but you knew it wasn’t for what was on his phone, it was directed towards you. 
Time was not on your side it seemed like because not an hour later you were sitting in the back with Katsuki who insisted that Eijiro was able to sit by himself for the first hour then he’d sit with him until everyone arrived at the cabin, thankfully it was only three hours there.
You pulled your phone out to distract yourself by burying yourself in your romance novel, which was going along quite well until it became a little more mature, now in the throes of being erotic and graphic, Katsuki could clearly read the first two paragraphs which had to be the most explicit before you titled it quickly and elbowed him. 
He looked at you with an unreadable expression while pulling his phone out to text you despite sitting right there. 
Incoming Text 
[K:] You’re a little perv, I bet you’d like that to happen to you 
He watched you flick away the notification and roll your eyes pulling the screen back up until you were twisted enough that he couldn’t see, Katsuki smirked a little and leaned back spreading his legs more than what was needed pressing his knee into yours.
You jerked back and scooted over until you were pressed against the hard uncomfortable plastic knowing it was undeniable; that strong shot of heat running down your leg at the contact, you huffed and grabbed the pillow between your legs to lay it against the plastic and lay your head on to go back to your phone. 
Katsuki went back to his own thing keeping his leg away from yours but still spread so that if you did relax your leg it would be touching his again while you fought the urge not to finish the book, it was getting good and part of you that you wished didn’t exist played you and him out as the two main characters 
The male was currently fingering the female lead while urging her with praises but you didn’t know what happened after that because the blonde man next to you still could see the sentences with his own mind playing out a version of the same thing. 
Thankfully the hour passed by and you could finally stretch your legs out once Katsuki joined Eijro in the middle row which gave you an idea, a way to test the man that was so hell-bent on making your life a living hell. 
“Hey, E, I have a question.” You murmured leaning forward to rest your chin on the seat between his and Katsuki ’s broad shoulders ignoring his eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. 
Your brother turned his head to look at you raising an eyebrow. “What’s the question?” He asked putting his phone down for a moment, even though sometimes he can be mean Eijrio is mostly sweet to you, you’re his little sister after all. 
“Is Deku single? I just saw him post something on Instagram, he’s very cute.” You almost purred placing your phone between them with a small smile, and you weren’t really lying, he is cute with his dark curls and his freckles, plus with how sweet he is, he’s the total package. 
But he was nothing like the blonde man next to you even though he’s a brute you still can’t deny the feelings you’ve harbored for him the last couple of years. Katsuki huffed and rolled his eyes as he slid his earbuds in which only made you smirk knowing it was irritating him. 
Eijiro shrugged and tapped his phone screen to text his old friend. “I just asked him, why don’t you ask him out on a date?” He asked nonchalantly. 
You slapped his shoulder and pushed him with a slack jaw. “You did not just text him that?! What did you say?” You all but squealed not really wanting him to ask, and deep down you just knew he would say that you wanted to know his relationship status. 
“Stop being a spaz jeez, I’ll let you know the answer later.” Your brother said pushing you back into your seat earning a glare from you as you settled back in the leather hoping that the trip would just end at this point so you could go back to everything that seemed normal. 
Thankfully the rest of the ride was silent and uneventful until you got out of the back and near Katsuki feeling the icy wall that he built around himself after your question about Deku, the curly-haired little fuck. It shouldn’t bother him but it feels foreign; envy, the green monster. 
His red eyes followed your form when you walked inside first to turn the lights on before coming out to get your bags, a frown graced your pouty lips as he looked at you. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.” Your voice dripped with disdain, but you still couldn’t admit that you liked it. 
Maybe you are a pervert after all. It was a very quick thought that was pushed back because you know you’re not one. “Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart and I call the guest room with the bathroom,” Katsuki replied hitching his strap over his shoulder before walking past you and inside. 
“Why are you friends with such an asshole?” You asked looking at your brother before following the blonde man walking past him to the hallway to the room he called not letting him have any type of chance to actually claim it when you shut and locked the door. 
Through the door, you could hear Katsuki mumble under his breath. “Why is your sister such a bitch?” He asked your brother who sighed and shook his head feeling like you both were siblings instead and he was the parent putting an end to the fight. 
After unpacking your bags you found yourself settled in the living room chair with your book reader in your hands scanning the same paragraph multiple times with a groan. 
Down the hall, you could hear heavy bass thumping making it difficult to concentrate on anything. Your parents left once they unpacked themselves to head to town. 
It was a tradition much like coming out here, they’d usually leave Eijiro here but he asked to come to pick a few things up and opted to leave his best friend here despite your protesting. 
Reading the page again you clicked the button shutting the screen off before making your way down to Katsuki ’s temporary room and barged in, not bothering to knock. 
The insult that simmered in your mouth died down when you caught him shirtless doing pushups, immediately it was clear that he took did take very good care of his body. You stood there like a deer caught in headlights watching him like a star-struck fan seeing their idol. 
Sweat clung to his skin making him glisten thanks to the low sun that shone from the open window and his grunts made you ache in the worst way possible. His muscles flexed tight as he continued unaware you were watching him. 
With a shake of your head, you stomped over to the stereo and pushed the off button filling the room with silence minus his grunts and heavy breathing. “Does it have to be that loud?” You asked glaring at him trying not to let yourself get so flustered at the sight in front of you. 
Katsuki continued and ignored you counting under his breath until he was finished before he kneeled on the floor looking at you with a flushed face screwed up in annoyance. “Yes, it does, now turn the radio on whenever you’re done bitching.” 
“Go to hell! Why would I do something for you?!” You screamed from the frustration that built up from the small time you’ve already spent with him. Ruby irises watched you have your little meltdown with a chuckle as he rose from his spot and towered above you. 
You moved away from him until the back of your knees were pressed against the mattress. His arms bulged as he caged you by pressing them down on either side of you forcing you to sit down, his face a mere inch away from yours, his scent full of potent male invading your senses. 
Pressure mounted between the two of you as the stare-down continued, Katsuki’s nostrils flared as your eyes traced the droplets of sweat that trickled down his face. “If I didn’t know any better you wanted to stay back when you could’ve gone but yet…here you are.” His voice trailed off as his thumb and pointer finger came up to grab your chin jerking your head to look at him. 
You didn’t even know you looked down to watch the sweat travel down his muscular body, the perverse part of you wanted to follow behind it with your tongue. “Let go of me.” You hissed and pulled away from him placing your hands on his chest, his skin was warm and flushed as you pushed him back enough to slot yourself between the space and get away from him. 
“Leaving so soon princess?” Katsuki teased as he sat on the bed where you were to grab his water bottle but you were out of the room by then stomping down the hall feeling hot where he had touched you, the ache between your legs came back with a vengeance as you thought about how he’d sound fucking you, would he grunt like that? 
Once you were settled back on the couch the music started up again, but this time you ignored it and turned your book reader on again trying to find the spot you lost and read from there soon getting lost in the words, with how the author described things your blood pumped hot making you flustered with need. You scanned the room quickly even though you knew you were alone and slipped your hand under the band of your shorts into your panties. 
There was already a damp spot just from reading about the male character swirling his tongue against the female character's clit, you tried to mimic the movement and spread your legs further knowing you only had a few minutes to get away with this. You slid your finger up and down between your pussylips before barely dipping them inside while you scanned the words. 
Your eyes fluttered shut as you pictured Katsuki kneeling between your legs instead, two thick fingers pumping in and out of your drenched cunt making such a mess, the wet sounds would be so lewd and you’d want him to make fun of you for it. The book reader clattered to the floor as you chased your high now lost in the sensation of fucking yourself. “Such a little pervert.” 
Katsuki stood above you, his arms crossed over his chest watching you finger yourself on the couch. “What the -” You screeched only to be stopped when he bent down to press his digit against your lips watching your sentence die. Stuck in another stare-down you couldn’t help but look away and remove your fingers even though you were so close to coming. 
Awkward tension filled the space between you both as he continued to stare at you, his red eyes filled with a whirlwind of emotions, the main one being that he wanted to rip your clothes off to have his way with you, he is a man after all, and you? You’re the sweetest woman that reminded him of the ripe fruit he was so desperate to pluck even though it was forbidden.
Just a taste is what he told himself as he sat down on the couch and pulled you down over his lap not giving you a single second to think before he hooked his fingers in your pants and panties to pull them down exposing you to him. 
“How’d I know you wore silk panties?” He questioned out loud with a chuckle and ran his calloused palms over your bare ass spreading the cheeks as his index finger spread the slick that gathered on your lips to your clit where he pressed it in hearing you whine a little. His eyes followed how you arched your back and spread your legs a little for him making it easier. 
Katsuki thumbed you apart and watched your hole flutter around nothing. “Look at you, not talking back and just letting me play with your cute pussy.” He clicked his tongue and thrust two fingers inside you instantly curling them to massage your g-spot, his thumb returning to your clit to rub circle eights on it.
It was messy and wet the more he continued letting his free hand massage your ass like a teenage boy who’s never touched a naked woman before. 
You gripped his pants and moaned hating yourself for letting this happen but the fire inside you was too strong to put out until you came. “Better hurry up if you don’t want to get caught by your family letting your big brother's best friend finger your tight pussy, huh?” He asked picking up the pace intent on making you cum for him feeling his cock strain in his pants. 
Katsuki knew exactly what to do to make you come undone, the rough pads of his fingertips grazed your g-spot before curling to rub at it while his thumb stayed focused on your clit swirling it around as he let his free hand massage each ass cheek molding the flesh in his palm as he watched his fingers disappear inside your weeping pussy over and over taking him so well. 
Your face burned as you humped his fingers feeling your lower belly tighten, the ball coming unraveled as your climax washed over you. “Katsuki!” You panted and sighed letting him slowly pull his fingers out before sliding them in his mouth getting a taste of what he’s going to have to miss out for now. 
After several minutes you scrambled off his lap and tried to pull your pants and underwear up in haste avoiding his vermillion eyes, he leaned back and watched you with a smirk. “Seems like it doesn’t take much to shut you up before you turn into an orgasm-hungry little plaything.” He teased with a cackle as he stood up and looked at you waiting for your response. 
You glared at him and grabbed your book reader. “I’ve had better.” You spit and walked out of the living room before you let him do much more than just make you cream on his fingers.
Fifteen minutes later after the whole debacle between you and Katsuki, your parents and brother returned with dinner and requested everyone at the table naturally, forcing you to face the blonde man. 
“There’s something going on tonight downtown your father and I are going to attend, so you three will be here unless you want to go?” Your mom began once everyone was seated at the dining room table. She got grunts from all the men. “I’ll stay here.” You told her only to be echoed by Eijiro and Katsuki who no doubt had plans to ruin your night even more. 
During the dinner, you could feel his socked foot rub against yours here and there, sometimes he’d smirk at you and lift his fingers up to his mouth to wipe away food, and his tongue would peak out tasting you again. This man had plans to drive you up the wall and it surely was working, making your resolve weaker and weaker. 
“I’m done, thanks for cooking mom, good night everyone.” You announced and stood with your plate to drop it off in the sink before scurrying down the hall into your temporary bedroom. 
You lay in bed replaying the scene that unfolded on the couch as you attempted to read your book again, the words on the screen jumbled together the more you tried to read. Giving up you checked the time seeing it was past eleven which meant Eijiro was asleep so Katsuki had to be as well giving you the time to indulge in some private time in the hot tub on the balcony. 
After you got changed into your bathing suit, armed with your towel book and something to sip on you slipped outside in the warm sticky air to hear the hot tub running and Katsuki who grunted as he climbed over the side to see you standing there watching him.
“Did you follow me out here or something?” He asked lips curled up in a grin as he sank down on the bench. 
You ignored him and set your things down to sit across from him looking up at the sky, the beauty of coming here was at night when there was nothing stopping you from seeing the beautiful stars shining against the inky background, the moon was high bathing the earth in a soft white glow giving it an almost ethereal feel. “Are you going to ignore me then?” Katsuki asked earning more silence from you. 
He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he spread his legs setting his feet on either side of your thighs on the bench knowing he was right where he wanted to be. “Short-cake.” He spoke and leaned forward getting your full attention now, it was a silent dare. Are you going to break the tension or let him keep trying to play you like a board game? His throat bobbed when he swallowed. 
Only the sounds of the bugs and wildlife and the boiling water could be heard as you stared at him again weighing all your options, it was clear as day that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You leaned forward and kissed him pressing your mouth to his in a needy kiss, your arms coming up instantly to wrap around his arms when he tugged you into his lap. 
He settled back on the bench parting your lips with his tongue before tasting you whole, one hand holding the back of your neck while the other slides down your back ending to squish one ass cheek, your body was on fire between the hot tub and kiss and with how he touched you it was impossible not to roll your hips riding and dry humping his clothed erection.
His mouth worked down your jaw and neck and shoulders as he untied your bathing suit top before pushing you back a little to get a good view of your tits. “So pretty.” He murmured and cupped them, running his thumb over your peaked nipple before attaching his lips around the bud suckling on it softly then began nibbling gently. 
Your fingers curled into his hair as you continued to dry fuck him hearing the water slosh around your bodies, you both panted grinding against each other desperate to cum until you were pushed back again until your ass was on his knees and mostly out of the water. 
Katsuki untied the sides of your swimming suit bottoms slowly while letting his mouth litter your bare chest with slow opened mouth kisses. “I bet you’re fuckin’ soaked for me.” He grunted and spread your legs wider for him once your bare pussy was on display for him. 
Two thick fingers spread you open for him as the water lapped over you. “Sit up for me princess,” Katsuki demanded and thrust his hips up once you did what you were told, you watched him hook his finger in the band of his bottoms and push them down to free his cock that ached and throbbed all for you. 
The tip was red and swollen waiting for stimulation of any sort and water was not a good lube so with his dick free from the water you spit on your palm and used it to stroke his cock up and down coating him in your slick to make it easier teasing him a little bit as you looked at him with a sultry look in your eyes as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. 
With your hands on his shoulders, you sunk down on him feeling the head catch on the soft opening of your pussy stretching you out already. You gasped and sat down fully feeling him in what felt like your womb with how thick he is, it made you feel dizzy. He leaned in and wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you steady. 
“It’s just better if you let me take control short-cake.” He told you in a low tone, his voice growly and dark as he tucked you more into his chest planting his feet flat on the bottom of the hot tub to fuck you from below. 
His mouth went back to your neck laving the flesh in kisses and nibbles that left you whining his name tugging on his hair as you rode him hard letting out all your frustrations. “It feels so good I hate you so much!” You cried softly and threw your head back holding onto him tightly. 
Katsuki chuckled. “You say you hate me but the way you’re riding my dick tells me otherwise princess.” He shot back and laid his head over the edge of the hot tub watching you bounce so prettily up and down on his cock like you were made to do this, every single day. 
His hands snaked under the water to grasp your ass cheeks helping you ride him. “You know as soon as I smell you I get hard, so sweet like a peach just begging to be suckled from.” He grunted against the column of your throat biting down on the flesh leaving a perfect set of teeth indentations. 
Each time he bottomed out he kissed your cervix and stretched you out leaving you feeling incredibly full as you scratched at his back moaning his name brokenly feeling his thumb rub at your clit with slow motions. “Cum on my cock like I know you’ve been thinking about, you’re squeezin’ me so tight princess keep fucking me,” He growled when he pulled away from you for a brief moment, a bridge of spit between his lips and your bud strung when Katsuki leaned back. 
It didn’t take much between his mouth that latched to your nipple again and his command, your pussy fluttered hard around him, your hips stilling from the intensity of it all. “Inside! Cum inside me!” You begged hanging onto him for dear life as you rode your orgasm out trying to milk him. 
Katsuki snarled, feeling your cunt hug him tight and wet. “You think I would pull out of this warm wet pussy? Like chance in hell, I would.” He pounded you from below hard and fast now feeling his sack tighten trying to catch his own high before his climax hit. 
He held onto you as he filled you to the brim fucking his cum deeper, the warmth spread from your womb throughout your entire body as you slumped against him panting hard. You both clung to each other coming down from your highs. 
There wasn’t anything to be said as you pulled away from him to get dressed feeling hot and sticky. “I don’t want to ever speak about this again.” You told him in a hushed tone standing up to look at him, your chest still heaved as you covered yourself with your towel unable to meet his red gaze feeling his warm sticky load leak from your cunt. 
“You say that now princess, I’ll be waiting, don't worry! For you, I’ll be a patient man!” Katsuki called out with a loud cackle as he watched you scurry off the balcony again and back inside knowing you’d be back for more of him, and he’d make sure of it.
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burntheedges · 3 months
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Maintenance Request
main post & chapter list | 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 word count: 80k+
Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday
summary: Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence - he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him. 
There’s no way there could be something more there.
Right?
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full fic tags/warnings: academia AU, modern AU, one-sided enemies-to-lovers, no outbreak, live music, fluff, banter, everyone is alive, misunderstandings, ex boyfriend who was manipulative and a jerk (only mentioned), no use of y/n, pet names (darlin, gorgeous, honey, baby, sweetheart), later: smut, kissing, grinding, frottage, p in v sex, oral sex (f! and m!receiving), creampie, somnophilia, phone sex, semi-public sex; each chapter will have its own tags a/n: this fic is completely finished! It was my 2023 NaNo project. I’ll post a new chapter every Friday. There are 23 chapters and an epilogue. There is eventually quite a bit of smut, but it’s going to take us a little while to get there. Mind the tags (for the whole fic above and for each chapter). That “one-sided enemies-to-lovers” tag was the motivation for the whole fic — what if only one of you thinks you’re enemies? And here we are. Chapters with smut are marked with *. The dates in each chapter are from a fictional fall semester, 2024. Shoutout to @fanatictypist for reading this and encouraging me 💕 and to the PPCU server. note about reader: in this fic you’re a college professor, vaguely of English literature and poetry. You like live music, you like to read, and Ellie is your niece. You have a best friend named Beth, a sister who is having a rough time, and a difficult mother. I’ve avoided physical descriptions and most clothing descriptions, except when plot-relevant. You are vaguely shorter than Joel. No age is specified, but I imagined 36-year-old Joel here (and 14-year-old Sarah), and most English PhDs wouldn’t get to this type of position until they were 28 or 29 at the earliest, even if they went to grad school right out of undergrad. So you can imagine reader any age from there to mid-30s, or whatever you want, really. 
This fic is (almost) totally finished! A new chapter will be posted every Friday. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list! * = chapter contains smut
Chapter List
Chapter 1 | 2.4k Wednesday, September 4, second week of the semester
Chapter 2 | 2.4k | preview Friday, September 6, second week of the semester
Chapter 3 | 2.4k | preview Monday, September 16, fourth week of the semester, Friday, September 20, fourth week of the semester
Chapter 4 | 1.8k | preview Interlude
Chapter 5 | 3.4k | preview Friday, September 27, fifth week of the semester Saturday, September 28, fifth week of the semester Monday, September 30, sixth week of the semester
Chapter 6 | 2.1k | preview Wednesday, October 2, sixth week of the semester
Chapter 7 | 2.4k | preview Wednesday, October 9, seventh week of the semester
Chapter 8 | 2.7k | preview Monday, October 14, eighth week of the semester
Chapter 9 | 3.4k | preview Tuesday, October 15, eighth week of the semester Thursday, October 17, eighth week of the semester Friday, October 18, eighth week of the semester Saturday, October 19, eighth week of the semester
Chapter 10 | 5k | preview Monday, October 21, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 11 | 2.4k| preview Tuesday, October 22, ninth week of the semester Thursday, October 24, ninth week of the semester Friday, October 25, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 12 | 8.1k | preview * Friday, October 25, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 13 | 9.3k | preview * Friday, October 25 (still), ninth week of the semester
Chapter 14 | 3.9k | preview Friday, October 25 (still), ninth week of the semester Saturday, October 26, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 15 | 3.6k | preview Saturday, October 26, ninth week of the semester Sunday, October 27, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 16 | coming 3/29 | preview
Chapter 17 | 4/5
Chapter 18 | 4/12
Chapter 19 | 4/19
Chapter 20 | 4/26
Chapter 21 | 5/3
Chapter 22 | 5/10
Epilogue | 5/17
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rageserenity · 14 days
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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hornyhornyhimbos · 9 months
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pov: eddie really doesn't know when to keep his hands off you... even in public... even at lover's lake ♡
18+ duh, perv!eddie x afab!reader, fingering f!receiving, exhibitionism a lil bit, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, sweet girl), nipple sucking, explicit language, implied smut at the end, 1.3K words, color coded speaker tags, shoutout to @dungeons-are-too-cold for recommending this concept and for beta reading!
filthy fridays | ask box
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you loved eddie, but man could he be an asshole...
the two of you had spent the day at lover's lake, and the day had so far been peaceful. you'd started out with a picnic on the dock, where he'd brought some of wayne munson's famous sweet tea and had made your favorite sandwiches, cut into cute little heart shapes, cheesy bastard that he was. you shared the chocolate-covered strawberries you'd brought while lying out in the sun, just enjoying the lake all to yourselves.
it wasn't until you peeled off your—or rather, his—oversized tee shirt and revealed the bathing suit you were sporting that you were reminded of just how much of an ass he could be.
you'd worn a little green number, a polka dotted ensemble that left little to the imagination. you tied the bottoms in cute little bows at your hips, and the second you pulled off your tee shirt, eddie was practically foaming at the mouth.
before he could get his hands on you, you jumped into the water, swimming away in a fit of giggles. he followed suit, tossing off his own shirt and jumping into the lake, diving after you with the ease of an olympic swimmer.
it wasn't long before eddie caught up to you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you up to the surface with him. he was all laughs as he pulled you in for a kiss, his fingers meeting your stomach with soft tickles.
"eddie, no!" you said through giggles, your limbs flailing and throwing water everywhere. droplets hit eddie in the eyes, but he was unrelenting, spreading tickles all over your bare skin.
his fingers drifted over a particularly sensitive part of your body, causing you to jerk in response, your leg brushing in between his own. that was when you registered that this little tickle fight was driven by something else.
you rolled your eyes, turning away from your chronically horny boyfriend, but he was quick to respond, wrapping his arms around your middle and holding you close. his hardening cock rested against your ass, and you couldn't say it wasn't turning you on.
still, you managed to ask, "are you always horny?" to which he responded with a soft kiss to the dip of your neck, trailing his lips along the string of your bikini top.
"maybe," he answered, and you could hear the smirk he was sporting. "but how am i to blame for it? i can't help you're the sexiest girl alive."
you hated that his words made you blush, you hated that with one sentence he could have you turned on, but mostly, you hated that he knew exactly how to distract you. because somewhere, between the hickies he was leaving on your neck and the rutting of his hips against you, you failed to notice his hands slipping down to the fastenings of your bottoms.
"eddie?" you called in a panic as the cold water hit your now uncovered core, a rush of both anxiety and arousal flowing through your body.
"yes, baby?" he answered, fake innocence coating his tone. his lips trailed down your neck to your shoulder while his hands trailed from your hips toward your center.
"eddie, where are my bottoms?!" you all but screamed, racing to swim away but his hold on you was just tight enough to keep you against him.
"i have no clue what you're talking about," he said, a chuckle threatening to fall after the words.
you tried to squirm away, but eddie had other plans, one of his hands coming up to meet your cunt, his thumb swiping over your sensitive bundle of nerves.
"ed-" his name got caught in your breath as he teased your folds with a finger, his thumb showing no mercy to your clit.
his tone was clearly taunting as he said, "if your bottoms fell off, why don't you go try to find them?"
your head turned to face him, mouth falling into an open 'o' as his finger finally slipped inside you. "you're such a- fuck- asshole."
eddie tutted against the shell of your ear, his finger crooking deeper inside you. "now, that's no way to treat me when i'm making you feel so," one pump of his finger, "damn," a second flex, "good," a third.
you fell nearly limp against him, moans falling from your lips as he continued working the digit inside you. eddie quickly accompanied the digit with a second, soon brushing them against that sweet spot that would have you falling apart in no time.
he kissed the crook of your neck, licking softly over one of the bruises he'd left earlier. "do you wanna cum, sweetheart?"
you nodded, whined, writhed against his fingers, anything to show him just how much you wanted to. "please," you whimpered, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip.
"go ahead, sweet girl," he whispered, taking your skin between his teeth while slipping a third finger inside you, "go ahead and cum for me, yeah?"
at his instruction, you were falling apart, his fingers drawing an absolutely euphoric orgasm out of you. eddie knew each and every way to make you come undone, and while you wanted to be mad about the swimsuit situation, you definitely couldn't be mad at the way his fingers felt inside you right now.
his name fell off your tongue like your lifeline. eddie rutted against your ass, trying to find some form of relief from his ever-growing erection, leaving moans in your ear that were only coaxing on your climax. "shit, baby," he said with a particularly hard rut, "y' should wear that swimsuit more often. feel how hard you've got me?"
his comment brought you back to reality, immediately finding the force to swim away and search for the missing bottoms. luckily, they hadn't floated too far away, but in a momentary lapse of judgment, you were hit with an idea while you were under the water. your hands flew to eddie's swim trunks, pulling them down and immediately swimming back to shore.
"you're dead when i catch you!" he shouted through laughter, wading through the water and attempting to hold up his shorts at the same time.
"you started it!" you shouted back. you ran over to the van, holding the small piece of fabric in front of you as best you could, just in case anyone were to spot you. you made a quick attempt at tying them back on, but not before eddie made his way over to you.
in a swift movement, he had both of your wrists pinned above your head, your bikini bottoms falling to the pavement below. he clicked his tongue, a disapproving look on his face. "very naughty of you to run away from me like that, sweetheart," he reprimanded, holding you against the frame of the van.
your stomach twisted with want as you noticed the dark look in his eyes, excitement and arousal dripping through your veins. still, you found yourself arguing, "oh, i'm the one that's naughty? that's something coming from you, perv."
his lips met the dip of your breasts, eliciting a moan from you. "i don't seem to recall you arguing too much about the way i made you feel back there," he mentioned between kisses, his hand coming up to palm at you through the green material. "in fact, the way your pussy was sucking me in, i'd say she was upset i didn't give her more."
he pulled one of your breasts out of the bikini top, his lips trailing from the valley of your chest to your hardened nipple. a moan escaped your lips as he suckled the bud, his palm moving to cup your neglected boob.
your head fell back against the van, your thighs clenching together with every movement of his tongue. "please, eddie," you all but begged, "give me more."
with one swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around his waist, fiddling quickly with the door of his van, desperate to lay you down and fuck you right. "ask and ye shall receive, sweetheart."
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-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @esoltis280
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790 notes · View notes
mxqdii · 7 months
Note
hey! i love love your work, and i was wondering if i could request a chris sturniolo x fem!reader?
maybe reader is also a well known influencer, or an actress or something of the sort, and there’s rumours about her and chris being together that they haven’t really confirmed?
but they are dating and she’s on live one day and he calls her like an intimate pet name, or just overall says something that shows they are in fact together and like the comments on the live just go crazy and stuff and shes like telling chris she’s on live or whatver
im so sorry if this doesnt make sense 🙏🙏
stop bc i requested pretty much this same thing to another author (on wattpad) a few months back, so when i read this request it was such an "i made it" moment (i love u sm, you're just like me fr fr)
baby - c.s
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pairings: chris sturniolo x reader
summary: chris accidentally calls reader 'baby' while she's on live, revealing to the whole world that they're dating/
warning(s): fluff, reader calling chris bro 😔
not proofread
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i'm sitting on the couch, watching tv, bored out of my mind.
then an idea hits me, i could go on live!
i used to go live a lot with the triplets, but only on their account, so it would be fun to go live on mine.
i open instagram and click the live button, watching the stream fill with thousands of people
"holy shit that's a lot of people" i say with a nervous laugh
"uhh i guess i'll answer any questions anyone has! so feel free to ask anything!" i add, smiling
i read through the comments, lots of them asking where the triplets are
i can't help but notice seeing a few asking if me and chris are dating.
fortunately, those allegations are true! but we've decided to keep it quiet for, just for now.
still, there’s only so much one can hide from the public
and although me and chris haven't said anything, i think everybody knows anyway.
people can see our glances, our gestures, how close we are, it's all pretty obvious.
i answer a few questions like my favorite singer, when my next video is coming out, podcast stuff with the triplets, and just some other various topics.
suddenly i hear the door unlock, looking over at it, but not really caring.
maybe i can get whichever triplet that is to join my live.
chris walks in and i smile in his direction
"hey baby" he says and my expression immediately drops.
i look at him, PALE.
(absolutely terrified to look back at the screen)
"what?" he says, walking closer, i turn my head to the screen, anticipating my death.
i let out a sigh of relief seeing the comments
@ssturniolo BABY???
@strniolo AWWWWWWWW
@lvrsparadise GOODBYE I LOVE THEM.
@ellieswifie this is such a chris and y/n mistake 😭
@lavieenvalentina i'm so happy for them i'll cry
(shoutout to everyone tagged ILY<;3)
as i'm reading the comments, i smile, chris hovering over me reading them too
suddenly he hugs me from behind, squeezing me tight
"chris!" i say laughing
"let me go bro" i whine
"you did not just call me bro" he says, immediately stopping
his death glare makes me laugh
"consider it payback for you calling me baby on live" i say laughing
(him clearly not amused)
"okay fine fine im sorry, guys it's all okay he's not my bro please let me redeem myself" i say joking on the last part
me and chris stay on live for another 30 minutes, answering questions about how we got together and just stuff about our relationship.
"bye guys we love you!!" i say, ending the live
i close out of insta, putting my phone down with an exhausted sigh
"so?" i mumble, anticipating chris's response
"so? so nothing" he say's with a smile and i face palm
"chris! we just told like, the world that we're dating" i laugh
"yeah, and i'm happy about it, like honestly i can't think of a better way it could've happened" he says
we both look at eachother and burst out laughing
"we're a little interesting thats for sure" i say
"i can't believe we tell the world we're dating ON ACCIDENT and then you start calling me bro" chris says, making me laugh harder
"i was nervous! im sorry!" i yell with my hands up in defense
"yeah yeah, it's fine" he says, wrapping his arms around me
"bro" he adds on
"chris i swear to god-"
TAGLIST:
@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm
713 notes · View notes
its-time-to-write · 5 months
Note
how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3
I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂
I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!
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smile at me
It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?
Or something. 
Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 
“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”
“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 
Apparently, that didn’t matter. 
But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 
It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 
Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 
“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”
Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 
The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 
“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”
Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”
You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 
You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”
He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”
“He broke up with me.”
Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”
You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 
“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 
You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”
Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 
“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”
A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 
As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.
You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”
The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”
Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 
“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 
“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 
Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 
“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 
Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”
You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 
“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”
“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.
“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”
“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”
Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”
You laugh and follow him to the elevator.
It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 
Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.
“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”
It’s not a problem. 
Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 
But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.
He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 
Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 
“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”
You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 
“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 
You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 
“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 
“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.
You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 
“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”
You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.
“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”
You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.
The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.
Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 
So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 
And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 
So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 
You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.
Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 
You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 
“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”
You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 
You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 
You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 
“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 
You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 
Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 
Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.
“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”
You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”
Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”
You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”
“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”
“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”
Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 
Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 
“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.
It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 
It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.
The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”
“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”
Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”
Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”
“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”
“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 
“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”
“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”
“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”
You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”
Jamie shoots up. “What?!”
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”
Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”
You grin as you climb onto his lap. 
412 notes · View notes
quinnnfabrgay-writes · 8 months
Text
Touch Me Like You Never, Push Me Like You Never
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(i was going to use a different gif, but i love him all broody and sad SUE ME)
summary: Frankie's caught watching porn and spicy events transpire (I'm shit at summaries - they fuck okay?)
pairing: Frankie x fem!reader
wc: 9.8k (idk what happened, i have no control)
warnings/tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, IF YOU'RE MY SISTER READING THIS LOOK AWAY (idc that you're an adult lol), smut smut smut, lots of fluff, maybe angst???, allusions to PTSD, allusions to past trauma + abuse (nothing explicitly stated, but alludes to past emotional/mental abuse + SA if you squint), use of safe words, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, power play, choking, daddy kink, spitting, face fucking, spanking, dirty talk, degradation and praise kink, unprotected p in v sex (do as i say not as i write, don’t be a fool and wrap that tool), lots and lots of feelings and giggles and really dumb jokes, lots of forehead touches because I'm a sap, lots of "baby"s bc I got carried away, feral Frankie “big dick” Morales comes with his own warning, this is the filthiest thing i've ever written i'm slightly embarrassed, no use of y/n, idk let me know if i missed anything
a/n: This WAS supposed to be just a fun lil piece to explore writing some kinks I never thought in a million years I would be intrigued by (and I figured who better to try new things with than Frankie? also my first time writing for Frankie) But it got away from me, and apparently idk how to write porn without backstory or lots of feelings (or giggles) so that’s where this ended up. (there's 2.8k words before the smut even starts, I'm so sorry) Plenty of filth, but also a LOT of feelings. (I also almost threw in a whole piece trash talking the military bc I hated my time in, but it was completely out of left field lmao) This was 100% self-indulgent (and very cathartic) and maybe one day I’ll learn how to actually write pwp, lmao. I don't write a lot of smut, so I apologize if this is bad or sounds robotic. Trying new things!
Also shoutout to a couple of people who inspired this: @swiftispunk for her fics awakening some things in me which inspired this piece in the first place (exposing myself as the jeezy petes anon lmao + while we’re at it the OG Pedro dream anon too) and also @thirstworldproblemss for being incredibly sweet and encouraging me to keep writing this (the hug + bj were always a part of the story, but I threw the nap in there just for you!)
I hope y'all enjoy my first foray into Feral Frankie Friday!
Music Inspo:
Not Afraid Anymore - Halsey
All to You - Sabrina Claudio
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With how long it’s been taking for this plane to taxi after landing, you’re suddenly incredibly grateful that you ended up only bringing a carry-on for the work conference you had to attend this past week. It was incredibly last minute, not really given any time to prepare what you may want to wear, so instead you wound up leaving yours and Frankie’s bedroom a complete mess after throwing some things in a bag before having to leave.
But now, you’re finally on your way back home. All that’s between you and Frankie now is a 20 minute drive from the airport to your shared home. No having to stop at baggage claim and wait for a bag, you don’t even have to wait for someone to come pick you up, you’ve already decided to take a cab instead. You can hardly keep still; your feet tapping some made up rhythm, your fingers fidgeting with the strings of your zip-up hoodie, you’re just itching to get home so you can jump Frankie on sight. 
What’s even better is, he’s not expecting you to be back home for a few more days. You were able to talk your boss into letting you leave earlier considering you weren’t needed for the rest of the meetings and presentations. He was hesitant at first, but when you brought up the fact that it could save them money, he was immediately on board. Whether that’s true or not, you didn’t care, it worked.  
As you wait for the plane to stop, you can’t help your mind from wandering, wondering how Frankie might take you tonight. Is he going to lay you down, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he makes love to you? Or is he stressed out, having a bad day? Does he need you to take the reins and be in control for the night?
You learned pretty early on in your relationship about Frankie’s past and his demons, well what he could tell you anyways. And much to his surprise it didn’t have you turning around and running for the hills. Instead you confided in him about your own demons, your past relationships that left you with emotional and mental scars. Instead of looking at you as this frail little injured bird that needed to be handled with kid gloves, he was awestruck. He always made sure to remind you of the strength it took to keep going, and how he admires your relentless optimistic outlook on life in spite of what you went through. In turn, you reminded him that what happened in the past doesn’t make him a bad person, and on his worst nights, that he’s no longer there, that he’s safe. 
Between your two pasts, it wasn’t really a shock to you when one night Frankie asked you if you would be okay with a ‘soft dom and sub’ kind of dynamic every now and then. On the nights where he needs to forget the most. Where he can just clear his mind, and have you tell him what to do (or not do). The two of you being gifted something you were never able to have before; you having control, and him being able to turn his thoughts off and just be.
You focus back in on your surroundings when you hear the ding of a bell. The seat belt sign is off. Showtime.
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You know trying to sneak up on Frankie and surprise him is no easy feat, but you’re hoping you can pull it off. You’re somehow able to unlock, open, shut, and lock the front door all without making too much noise. You carefully place your bag on the floor, and quietly take off your converse. Even more surprisingly you were able to make it up the stairs without any creaking giving you away. You can see the light from your bedroom filtering into the hallway.
You decide it might not be the best idea to almost give Frankie a heart attack. Especially not if you're looking to get laid. You decide to call out before walking down the hall to the bedroom.
"Frankie, baby, I'm home!"
You hear some shuffling in the bedroom as you get closer.
"Frankie?" You round the corner into the bedroom just as Frankie's closing his laptop. He hops out of bed looking slightly nervous, but trying (and failing) to cover it up with a smile. 
“Baby, you’re home early!” He swoops you up into a giant hug, peppering kisses all across your face while you giggle. He finishes with a final kiss on your lips before resting his forehead on yours. “I missed you.”
You squeeze your arms tighter around his waist. “I missed you too, that’s why I came home early. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, mission accomplished.” 
You look into those big brown eyes of his, and you almost forget about the laptop. Almost. You lean back with a wry smile, walking your fingers up one of his arms before brushing that patchy scruff you love so much with your fingers.
“So… what’s got you all jumpy?”
He chews the inside of his bottom lip. “I don’t know what you mean.”
You raise an eyebrow in disbelief and point towards the bed where the laptop is still laying. “What’cha got going on over there?”
He looks back towards the bed. “Oh-uh, it’s nothing.” But he’s starting to blush.
“Mmmm, so that’s why your face is getting all flushed? Over… nothing?”
He starts trying to pull you towards the door. “C’mon, let me make you some dinner.”
“I ate before getting on the plane. Frankie, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just wasn’t expecting you to be home so early, is all.”
You pull him back towards you with a sly smile on your face. “Did I interrupt you about to take care of yourself?”
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer and shrugging in response. “I got the real thing now, so I’m not complaining.”
He still seems on edge, he’s slightly stiff in your arms. You’ve been living together for almost two years now, so you’ve caught each other a few times before, but he’s never been this apprehensive. 
“What were you about to watch?”
He starts getting nervous again. “I- uh, it’s nothing. Just your standard stuff.”
“Baby, we’ve watched porn together before and you’ve never acted like this, what’s wrong?”
He lets go of you running one of his hands through his hair while the other rests on his hip. He's looking everywhere but at you until he finally just looks at the floor. “Nothing’s wrong, I just… nothing’s wrong.”
You take advantage of the fact that he’s no longer holding on to you. Slowly backing up towards the bed. You know you should let this go, you’ve never seen Frankie so flustered, but you’re stubborn and nosy as hell and don’t always know when to drop something. You make it towards the head of the bed where the laptop is lying. 
Frankie’s now got his arms crossed and looking as if he’s thinking something over. You reach down to open the screen, but before you do you look back at Frankie.
“Is this okay? Or would you rather I drop it?”
He looks slightly torn, you can see his chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly as he weighs his options. He starts chewing on his lip again before answering. “It’s fine.” He drops his head though, as if he doesn’t want to see your reaction.
You give him a sweet smile anyways, always grateful when he opens up to you more, even if it’s in his own little ways.
As soon as you open the laptop and the screen comes back to life, your eyes widen - he has not one, not two, but five different tabs open with some incredibly filthy shit- we’re talking spanking, choking, bondage, ball gags, degradation, the works.
You gasp and whisper “oh, Frankie.” You’re intrigued, and frankly incredibly turned on.
He makes his way over, embarrassed, already apologizing and closing the laptop, you’re just staring at him with glazed over eyes, unable to put together a coherent thought while replaying the images in your head, something stirring deep inside.
He sits down on the edge of the bed close to you, slumped over with his elbows on his thighs, hands covering his face. 
“I’m so sorry baby.“ You can practically feel the shame just rolling off of him. It pains you to see him this way, especially when he hasn’t done anything wrong.
You slide over so you’re sitting right next to him, putting a hand on his thigh. You lightly trace mindless shapes over his sweatpants in hopes of soothing him. “Frankie, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”  
You continue to try and soothe him, whispering reassurances that there’s nothing to be ashamed of, giving him gentle kisses on his temple and hands, but he’s not budging. Somehow your words are not getting through to him.
You have an idea though. You get on your knees next to him on the bed, and lean into his ear, dropping your voice a little lower. “Frankie,” he visibly shudders, “there’s no need to apologize.” 
You place your hand on his lower back and start inching it up as you continue to speak slowly in his ear “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 
At that he drops his hands, slightly leaning back into your touch, his eyes closed, you can feel him starting to relax and loosen up a bit. “Is this something you’ve been thinking of? Hmm?”
As you reach his neck, you move your hand and fingers through his hair. “Is this something you’ve been wanting to try, baby?” 
You grab some of his hair and tug lightly “answer me, my sweet boy.” He moans and slightly nods. “With words baby, I need to hear what it is you’ve been thinking about.”
You move to straddle him and are surprised with how hard he already is - so surprised you dropped the act. “Oh Frankie, you’re already so hard.” 
His eyes are still closed as he lets out a strained moan. He grabs your thighs as you settle yourself in his lap - fighting the urge to grind down on him and just let this all go - you know he would gladly let you, but you’re way too interested in this other possible side of Frankie. You wrap your arms around his neck, twirling the little curls at the base of his neck in your fingers.
“Baby if this is too much, we don’t have to talk about it.” He didn’t utter his safe word, but he’s also never been this silent in the bedroom, he’s usually either begging you or showering you with praise. He opens his eyes, his thumbs are stroking your thighs. 
“It’s not that, I…” he doesn’t finish, you can practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he’s trying to find a way to say whatever it is he wants to say. You stay silent, running your fingers through his hair, trying to give him time to respond, but after a long pause of silence you decide to use a different tactic with your other ‘go-to’ which is to deflect with humor. 
“Jeez Frankie, what weird shit do you want to do to me?” you laugh letting him know you’re at ease. He cracks a slight smile, but his eyes are still conflicted. “You know I would never judge you.” 
He nods, but breaks eye contact looking down, watching his thumbs caress your thighs. What has got him so scared? Is he not convinced I wouldn’t judge him? Is he afraid I would be disgusted? Is he worried I would be afraid o-? oh, OH… 
You take a deep breath. “If you��re worried about any of this possibly being triggering or scary to me…” his eyes fly back up to catch your gaze, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows, the worried expression in his eyes. And bingo, there it is…   
Your heart immediately swells, your Frankie, so careful and considerate of your past to the point where he has hid this part of himself just so you would be comfortable. “Oh baby. What did I ever do to deserve you?” 
You gently grab his face in your hands before leaning in, trying to pour every ounce of love you have for him into this one simple kiss. His hands skim over the small of your back, resting one there while the other slides up, stopping at the nape of your neck, holding you. After a few minutes you break apart. Your thumbs caress his face as you continue. “You indulge my every fantasy, why won’t you let me do the same for you?”
“I just… I only ever want to make you feel good, y’know? I-I don’t want you to ever worry or feel scared of me, o-or belittled. I just want you to feel safe and loved.”
You swear you can feel your heart about to burst from all the adoration you have for this man. You know there is no possible way he would ever bring you harm, emboldening you to push it even further.
“What if… what if I said I wanted to try some of those things. Would you do it then?”
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This seemed like a fun idea, but Frankie is now pacing around the bed while you're sitting in the middle of it. He’s diving head first into a million different questions, not wanting to miss anything, covering all his bases.
“Should we lay down some ground rules? Do you want to use safe words? That's something we should do, right? I mean we use them for me, so why wouldn't we do the same for you? Do we use the same safe words that I use, or should we pick different ones just for you? Would that be too much having separate safe words, or would it be confusing if we used the same ones?”
Even though you feel like he's going slightly overboard and worrying himself over nothing, you can't help but smile and feel incredibly grateful that he's putting so much thought into this. But now his pacing and questions are starting to err on the frantic side of things.
“Frankie! Slow down. Breathe.” He finally stops pacing and sits down on the edge of the bed. You continue. “We can either use the same safe words we already use, or we can pick new ones special for just this situation.” 
“What would you prefer?” 
You think it over and decide to start testing the waters. “I want you to decide for me.” 
He starts to ramble again about how he doesn’t feel like that’s fair to you. What if you don’t like the safewords he picks out? What if you forget them? You lean over and place a firm hand on his thigh, getting his attention. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, you smile and repeat yourself “I want you to choose my safe words Frankie.”
You sit back as he continues to stare at you, thinking it over. Just when you think you've asked too much of him, he stands up and starts pacing again, his hands planted firmly on his hips.
"Frankie…?"
"It's fine, I'm thinking."
After a few moments of you watching him pace around, he stops at the edge of the bed with a grin. “I’ve got it. So, if you need me to slow down or ease up - cucumber, if you want or need me to stop completely - pickle. What do you think?”
You try to stifle a giggle and cover your mouth. He is literally the cutest being I have ever met.
He looks at you confused as you continue to try and keep in your laughter. “Is there something wrong with them?”
You can’t contain your laughter anymore, letting yourself giggle as you explain your amusement. “No, they’re actually perfect. Especially the one for stop. Y’know, ‘cause when you’re in a sticky situation and you’re like ‘oh no, I’m in a pickle.’”
He just continues to stare at you as you bite down on your lip trying to not completely double over in laughter. Just when you thought you might’ve offended him by laughing at his choice, he cracks a smile before chuckling and then breaking out in a full bodied laugh. You relax as you join him, letting out your own giggles completely. 
He crawls over the bed to you grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss as you're still laughing. Once you two break away he leans his forehead against yours still chuckling and lets out a breathy "god, i love you."
He asks to reaffirm that the safe words are okay, and when you say yes, he asks again about ground rules. You seriously contemplate going back and forth in your head for a minute. You both have the same "hell no's" so you're not really worried about lines being crossed. You answer him softly but confidently "I have full and complete trust in you Frankie. I know you would never do anything to hurt me - mentally, physically, or emotionally."
He leans back into your space kissing you - it starts off soft and slow as he lays you down while still attached to your lips, but then it quickly starts to build. It’s more needy, more heated, and you’re feeling more grabby. You reach down to grab the hem of his shirt needing to feel more of him, eager to feel the skin underneath. Before you can wrap your fingers fully around his shirt, he's grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with his hands. 
He brings his lips to your ear, with a dangerously low voice he utters "did I say you could undress me?"
You gasp, taken aback by the quick and sudden turn into this new dynamic, heat immediately flooding over your body. You're so stunned you don’t know how to answer, your body buzzing in anticipation for what might come next.
He slowly unzips your hoodie, revealing that you had decided to forego wearing a shirt and instead only wore some lacy lingerie under your shorts and hoodie. You might have been rushed with your packing, but you made damn sure that you grabbed his favorite set so you could wear it home.
He licks his lips, his eyes scanning over your body as he slowly continues to drag the zipper down. 
"Very risky of you, don’t you think? What if you got hot? Or this somehow got unzipped?"
"The reward was worth the risk." You wink, biting your lip.
He pushes the fabric to the side, trying to expose every inch of you he can without taking off the hoodie just yet. He lets out a groan gliding one hand over your stomach, sliding to briefly ghost over your breasts before making its way back down to the button of your shorts. He slips his hand underneath the waist band, pulling slightly to get a peak of what awaits him, letting out another groan. 
"You're gonna be the death of me one day." He leans forward resting his forehead on your stomach. Usually you would be running your fingers through his hair by now, but you make sure to keep your hands on the mattress by your head where he placed them. He starts slowly unbuttoning your shorts, placing slow soft kisses across your skin. First his lips lightly brush across your abdomen, making his way towards your hip and placing frustratingly soft kisses there until he repeats his actions, making his way towards your other hip.
With your shorts fully unzipped, he drags them down your legs, placing kisses along your thighs, your knees, your shins as he makes his way down before completely discarding the item of clothing altogether, taking your socks with them. For a moment, he just looks at you, laid out on the bed for him, waiting breathlessly for his next actions.
Starting from your ankles, he lightly brushes his fingers across your skin, making his way up your legs so painstakingly slowly that you swear this could have been used as a method of torture. His lips trail behind his fingers, lightly kissing each spot he touched. He makes an obvious show of skipping your clothed mound before continuing his actions across your stomach and up to your breasts. 
He faintly skims his thumbs over your nipples still covered by the sheer lace of your bra. You gasp and close your eyes, wanting to soak in this feeling, but he stops.
“Eyes on me baby.” His voice low and gravelly, as if he hasn’t spoken in days instead of mere minutes.
You slowly open your eyes to find him staring back at you, with the most gentle smile on his face. “Good girl.”
Oh, I’m definitely fucked.
You don’t even get a second to comprehend his praise before he’s dropping down and firmly dragging his tongue across one of your now hardened nipples, never breaking eye contact.
“Oh f-uck me.”
He just chuckles and responds, “that’s the plan.”
You let out a small chuckle yourself, but then it’s quickly replaced with a moan as he repeats his actions on your other breast while bringing his fingers to lightly pinch and pull at the now neglected nipple. He continues kissing and licking over your body until he reaches your lips for a quick, sweet peck on the lips. His eyes flash with something wicked before dropping back down, starting the whole process over again. Light strokes of his fingers, soft kisses from his lips, the faintest brush of his tongue - each pass becoming more and more heated as he adds the slight scrape of his teeth to his torturous pattern. 
Even after he finally rids you of the rest of your clothing, he’s teasing you. Licking, kissing, biting every inch of your skin until you swear your whole body is vibrating with the need of release. You’re already dripping wet, surely soaking the sheets under you, pussy practically throbbing with the need to be touched. You let out a whimper in frustration. You’re just on the verge of begging him to fuck you already until he speaks.
“Do you want to play a little game?” 
You’re so far gone, blissed out of your mind to even try and form words, but you know his question was rhetorical anyway. He makes his way down to the foot of the bed, sliding off. He reaches over to grab you by the thighs and yanks you down, closer to the edge of the bed, your legs dangling off the edge. He stands up and leans back down over you to pepper kisses across your face and neck as he speaks. 
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t require much effort, the rules are pretty simple.” He drops down to his knees on the floor and drags you more towards the edge, leaving just a little bit of space on the edge of the bed. You moan at the sight of him between your legs, secretly begging to whatever gods are out there that he would eat you out tonight. He smirks at your debauched state. 
“Oh baby, you should see yourself right now, all spread out and eager, just for me.” He starts to run his hands up and down your thighs, his thumbs always getting close enough to reach out where you want his hands the most, but still too far to give you any relief.
“If you can follow the rules, then you’ll be rewarded.” He places a sloppy open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. 
“But if you break the rules…” his grip on your thighs becomes tighter, to the point where you fully expect to see bruises there tomorrow. You let out another moan at the thought. He smirks, licks his lips and continues, “If you break the rules, I’m sorry baby, but I’ll have to punish you.”
At that he bites the spot on your inner thigh where he had just kissed you moments ago. You let out a broken moan, not even ashamed at how much the thought of him punishing you turns you on. 
“Are you ready my love?” He’s looking right at you, so you nod, already breathless from just the promise of what’s about to happen. You see a glint of mischief in his eyes as he stands up to lean over you and growl in your ear, “With words baby. I need to hear that you’re ready.” 
You wonder if he loves the tables being turned as much as you do. 
“Y-yes, I’m ready.”
He hums in acknowledgement in your ear, but doesn’t move from his current position, but instead slides one of his hands from your hip up your body until it’s laying at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen in excitement at the thought of him choking you without you having to ask.
“Yes, what?” he grumbles in your ear.
“Yes… sir?” you never really considered this part of the dynamic, not knowing how much power play he might want to get into. He groans slightly in your ear. 
“Is that an answer, or a question?” His hand slides up slightly to lightly wrap around your throat, only the slightest pressure applied. You let out a light gasp “yes, yes sir.”
He hums again in your ear, and uses his other arm to prop himself up so he can look at you. He drinks in your appearance, his eyes scanning every inch of your face and body in his sight - your pupils blown, hair disheveled, chest heaving, your hands now at your side clenching the sheets under you. He’s completely in awe that he gets to come home to you every day, still in disbelief after all this time that you chose him to be your partner in this crazy world. He licks his lips and makes eye contact with you, a slight smirk on his face. 
“Hmm, Sir sounds a bit too… formal.” His thumb stroking your throat as he speaks. “I think you can do a little bit better than that, right baby?” His grip on your throat tightens, short circuiting your brain and immediately sending sparks all over your body. Your eyes roll back into your head from the sudden and intense pleasure and you surprise the both of you when you let out a breathy “yes, daddy.” 
You hear a strained “oh, fuck” from above you, feeling Frankie shift his weight until he’s hovering over you positioned between your legs. He moves both hands and places them on either side of your head on the bed. You let out a whine at the loss of his hand on your throat, but he quickly swallows it with his mouth practically attacking yours. The kiss is downright primal, all tongues and teeth, no room to break apart for air. 
He finally pulls away you both gasping for air. He brings both of his hands to the crown of your head, weaving his fingers into your hair, cradling your head in his hands. “Daddy, huh? How long have you been holding that one in?” 
You blush, and look away, unable to hold his intense gaze. The two of you wading into uncharted territory together, this is all new to both of you. You have never been one to be shy or bashful in the bedroom, at least not with Frankie, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you. Not in a way that makes you feel small, or a way that makes you feel ashamed of what you just said. It’s almost freeing, the way you can let your guard down and lay it all out for him, slight embarrassment and all. You don’t feel the need to cover up or feign your true emotions around him, even now as his unwavering stare bores down into you. 
He moves one of his hands from your hair to cup your cheek to urge you to look back at him. His gaze is still intense, but slightly softer. He drops his eyes to your lips, his thumb reaching out to swipe across your lower lip. His thumb stills once it reaches the corner of your mouth, he looks back into your eyes. “That- that uh” he lets out a deep breath as if he’s bracing to say something difficult, and closes his eyes. “That was incredibly hot.” 
He goes back to tracing your lower lip with his thumb as he stares at your lips. “I never once considered myself as someone who would like that…” he drifts off. You offer up your own confession, getting out a breathy “me neither, it just kind of slipped out.” 
He smiles at your admission, licks his lips and then looks back into your eyes. “But there’s just something about it coming from you...” he drifts off again, lowering to take your bottom lip between his teeth, running his tongue across it before releasing it. “Shall I get back to explaining the game?” 
You laugh a little, “yes please.” 
He cocks an eyebrow, using his hands still around your head and face to nudge your head to the side, dragging his nose from the side of your throat up until his lips reach your ear, and growls “what was that?” 
The hand still in your hair grasps a handful of your hair and tugs just enough for it to sting, but god if it didn’t feel good. You’re tempted to not answer, wanting to see what might happen. But you also are so eager to just give in and hand him full control. 
“Yes, daddy.” You moan out. He takes your earlobe in between his teeth briefly before whispering in your ear “good girl.”
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The rules of the game: he eats you out, and all you have to do is keep your feet planted on the mattress with your hands around your ankles. It sounded easy enough, until he actually started. It proves to be more difficult than you thought it would be considering he’s basically devouring you like he hasn’t eaten anything in weeks. 
You already faltered once. The second his warm tongue made its way up along your dripping seam, you literally got weak in the knees, legs falling open, hands clutching the sheets instead of your ankles. He let you off easy since this was the first time “playing” this game. But he warned you that was your only freebie, next time he won’t be as generous.
Now you know you’re fighting a losing battle. You’ve been able to keep it together for what feels like forever, but you’re very close to disregarding the rules, grabbing his hair, and riding your way to release. He's been slowly working you up towards the edge and letting you hang there until it disappears a few times now. You throw your head back and cry out as he dips down from your clit dropping his tongue into your cunt, fucking you with it as his nose gently nudges your sensitive bud.
“Oh fff-uck.”
You’re holding on to your ankles for dear life, doing whatever you can just as long as he does not stop this, but your resolve is quickly crumbling. It starts in your abdomen, these shaking tremors, and they grow and move out towards your shoulders, your arms, your legs. You’re so close to your orgasm you can practically taste it. As you climb higher, you let basic instinct take over, forgetting everything else that exists that doesn’t involve Frankie’s tongue on your pussy. Your hands release your ankles and move their way to grasp at Frankie’s hair, fingers raking through and tugging on the roots.
Just as you feel yourself getting close to the edge - back arched, eyes starting to roll to the back of your head, Frankie pulls back. You let out a frustrated whine, reaching down to try and grab his hair, his head, anything to bring his mouth back to where you want it. 
"Fuck, Frankie, why?" You're on the verge of frustrated tears, not caring how pitiful you might sound.
He looks up at you, still between your thighs. He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head disapprovingly, tsking. He slowly rises to his feet, his hands gliding up your thighs, stopping to wrap around and grab the back of them. "Oh baby, now why would you go and do something like that?"
His seemingly innocent words and tone are dripping with concern, but his eyes and the slight quirk of his lip scream danger. Your breath hitches and your body is buzzing in anticipation, just now remembering what you weren't supposed to do. Before you can even comprehend what's happening, he has you flipped over. Your face against the mattress, your knees folded under you, and your ass resting on your heels.
Fuck he’s strong.
He grabs your wrists and pins them behind your back, you can feel his breath against your ear.
"I thought I warned you baby, I wouldn't be so nice the second time around."
You involuntarily let out a whimper, closing your eyes, your pussy clenching around nothing just from the thought of what might come next.
He’s eerily silent for a few minutes. You no longer feel his breath on your face, so he must’ve backed up. The only tell that he’s still in the room with you is the feeling of his hand holding your wrists firmly against your back.
Suddenly, the room is filled with the echo of a crack. You feel the sharp sting from his free hand making contact with the back of your ass, eliciting a small broken moan from you.
“You heard the rules, and you broke them anyways. Good girls don’t break the rules, do they?” He doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer as he rubs his hand across the small of your back and continues. “Only naughty girls break the rules. Do you know what happens to those who break the rules?”
You just whimper again, your mind too focused on the heat on your skin left from his hand.
Another crack echoes throughout the room as he brings his hand to your other cheek, the sheer force of it jolting your body slightly. 
“They get punished.”
At that he lets out a relentless string of slaps to your ass. Each one pulling moans from you, becoming louder and louder as he continues. Every smack of his hand sends chills up your spine and shocks to your already throbbing clit.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you did this on purpose. Look at you, bent over and practically drooling. You’re just a dirty little girl who’s been waiting for me to take control, aren’t you?” 
Smack.
“Just a filthy, naughty girl waiting to be punished.”
Smack.
At this point you’re basically trembling at the combination of his words and his hand bringing you shockingly close to the edge. Frankie must notice, because he suddenly removes his hand from your ass to gently swipe his thumb along your painfully wet seam. He lets out a low moan almost resembling a growl, bringing his thumb to his lips to taste your arousal.   
"You like that, huh?" 
Oh fuck. You let out a high pitched whine, hoping that could be good enough of an answer. You soon find out it most definitely was not.
Smack.
"I asked you a question." 
Smack, smack.
"And I expect an answer." 
Smack, smack, smack.
"Now. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" 
You’re having a hard time controlling your breathing, unable to focus as the sweet tinge of pain brings you closer and closer to that climax you’ve been craving since you hopped off the plane. You somehow find enough will to choke out an answer.
"Y-yes daddy." 
"Then it's not much of a punishment, is it?" 
"No." 
Smack. 
"What did you say?" 
"No daddy." 
"That's what I thought." 
You hear shuffling behind you until Frankie’s leaning down, bringing his lips to your ear. One of his hands still has your arms pinned to your back. He lightly traces the tip of his tongue across the shell of your ear before whispering, "you're just daddy's little slut, aren't you?" 
Something about that strikes a nerve, so much so you visibly wince and whimper out a quiet "cucumber."
He immediately leans back slightly, letting go of your arms, looking worried and runs a hand over your face and your hair, cradling your head.
"What is it you didn’t like, baby? Am I being too rough?"
You shake your head and take a minute, trying to talk yourself up into voicing your issue.
Remember, this is Frankie. You’re safe; you’re safe with him.
"I-I uhm… I just don't like being called a slut." You avoid his eye contact. "Same goes for whore or anything like that…"
His eyes immediately fill with regret as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, you didn't know… I didn't really know either until now." You finally look up at him, bringing one of your hands to rest on his forearm, stroking your thumb across his skin.
"Do you want to stop?" He sounds so concerned, it has you reaching out to stroke his cheek. 
You shake your head and smile. "No baby, I'm fine. You've got me all riled up."
He just chuckles with a sweet smile crossing his lips. "Okay then."
He leans back, straightening back up as he removes his t-shirt. He doesn't break eye contact as he sheds his sweatpants and boxer briefs, throwing them off to the side. He reaches out a hand to you for you to take.
“Stand up.”
You just look back at him confused. “What?”
“I said, stand up.” His tone shifting back to dangerously devilish. 
You grab his hand and let him help you off the bed, bringing you inches away from his body.
“Now get on your knees.”
“Am I still being punished?”
“Do you want to be?” He has a devilish smirk on his face.
Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat. Goddamn this man.
He just chuckles. "Don't worry. You don't have to answer that. Just listen to me and you'll be fine. Now. Get on your knees for me."
You lick your lips nervously, nod your head, and sink down to your knees. Your eyes immediately snap to his obviously aching cock just inches away from your face. You’re not sure how he's been able to keep his cool considering he's usually begging you to touch him before it gets this bad. The fat, angry head profusely leaking precum. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it, you’re still taken aback from the sheer size of Frankie. 
You worry a little, you don’t do this often. If you’re being completely honest, you’re not too keen on giving head, but you also were never with anyone as sweet and patient as Frankie. He never asks you for it, happily accepts it in the moments you do feel like doing so. He never pushes you to take him deeper. No, you never really liked giving blowjobs, but no one else has deserved it before Frankie.  
“Before we start, I need you to look at me.” You look up at him with wide eyes and wait for him to continue.
“You’re not gonna be able to speak for a little bit, but I want you to know you still have an out. If you need me to stop, if it gets to be too much, you tap my thigh, okay?” 
You simply nod.
“Say it back to me, I need to know you understand.”
“If I need you to stop, I tap your thigh.”
He brings a hand down, lightly stroking his fingers across your cheek. “Good girl. You take direction so well, I almost want to reward you.”
“What if I just need you to slow down?”
He seems to think about it, but then shakes his head. “Nothing, we’re doing full stops here. If you just need me to slow down or ease up, you can tell me after I’ve stopped.”
You just nod your head.
He smiles down at you, reaching his hands out. “Give me your hands, baby.”
He gently takes your hands in his before placing them at his thighs, signaling for you to wrap your hands around them.
“You’re gonna want to hold on to something for this.” He winks.
You bite your lip with a shy smile, eager to give this man anything and everything he asks of you.
He runs a thumb over your lips before dragging it down, bringing your lower lip along with it. “Open up for me, beautiful.”
You let his thumb guide your jaw down as you completely hang your mouth open for him.
"Now stick out your tongue."
You can't help the smug glint in your eyes as he takes in a deep, shuddering breath when you follow his orders.
"Oooooh, fuck, baby. If you only knew the things I've wanted to do to this mouth."
He briefly grabs his cock and closes his eyes, releasing some of the pressure that’s been building since you sat in his lap. You think he’s going to guide it towards your mouth, but instead he brings both of his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks and slowly stroking his thumbs across them. You dart your eyes across his face, slightly confused, not knowing what to expect. He suddenly leans over, purses his lips and spits in your mouth. It hits the back of your throat, and you let out what has to be the most depraved moan to ever exist. 
He lets out a low hum in approval. He starts straightening back up, leaving one hand on your face, gliding it down to cup your jaw. He gently lifts and angles your head back slightly so you can see his face.
“You ready for me baby?”
You nod as much as you can in your current position, practically salivating at the thought of him using you this way.
He grabs his cock with his free hand and slowly guides it towards your mouth, rubbing the tip around your tongue. His head falls back as he lets out a moan. He looks back down at you, pupils already blown wide as he settles his cock directly on your tongue before slapping the tip on your tongue a few times. 
“Fuck. God, I can’t wait to fuck this perfect little mouth of yours. Look at you with your tongue hanging out for me. So good for me. Oh baby, you want this as bad as I do, don’t you.” 
He continues spewing out filth as he finally starts guiding his cock into your mouth slowly. He moans in relief of finally being touched by you, his cock twitching when you attempt to open your mouth wider for him.
His words, this act, it's all so… lewd. Downright filthy, depraved even. It's exhilarating. 
His tip slowly starts making its way across where your gag reflex usually takes over and you start to choke and gag slightly around him. You grip his thighs harder determined to see this through. He eases back slightly, trying to comfort you with words of encouragement. 
“All right, baby. All right, baby. Come on now. You can take it.” 
You swear you almost cum on the spot. Frankie never talks to you like this, and every filthy word that drips out of his mouth is an electric shock straight to your core. You clench your thighs when his fingers push down on the hinges of your jaw to get you to relax and open up even more for him. “Oh, fuck, yeah baby just like that. You’re doing so well for me baby, just breathe out of your nose for m- shit-“
You involuntarily swallow around him as his tip breaches your throat. He hisses and quickly pulls out of your mouth with a popping sound, leaving you gasping for breath. The two of you connected merely by a string of spit. 
“Fuck baby, if you keep doing that I’m not gonna last too long. I want to take my time, to savor this beautiful fucking mouth of yours.” You squeeze his thighs harder from his praise, letting out a small moan. 
“Please.” You sound almost desperate and breathless, wanting to give this to him. You don’t even know what you’re begging for exactly, all you know is you want to make him feel good. 
He chuckles. “Yeah? You like the idea of me fucking this mouth?”
“I like the idea of you using me however you want.”
That has him break slightly, his mouth gaping just a little trying to process what you said.
“W-what?”
You smirk, taking advantage of this short moment where you have control over him. “You heard me. Use me, daddy.”
Something darker flashes in his eyes, something primal. “Open back up for me.”
You open back up wide, sticking your tongue out for him. He guides his cock back into your mouth, and then moves his hand to the back of your hair, grasping a fistful of hair. The hand wrapped around your jaw tightens as he starts to rock back and forth, thrusting in and out of your mouth slowly. He starts to pick up the pace, groaning as he repeatedly hits the back of your throat. It takes every ounce of concentration in you to not choke or gag around him.
“Look at you, so desperate for my cock that you’ll let me fuck your mouth. Fuck, is this what you want? You want daddy to use you? So filthy, such a filthy girl for me.”
You moan around him, his words bringing a new wave of slick down your thighs. You look up at him, basking at his expression of pure bliss. He closes his eyes and leans his head back as he moans and continues his string of filth. He must be close, because he’s thrusting even faster, harder. Tears are welling up in the corner of your eyes and a mixture of spit and precum is slowly dripping out of your mouth and down to your chin from the way he’s stretching your mouth open. 
He’s just about to cum when he looks down and sees the tears in your eyes slipping out, and running down your cheeks. Panic overtakes him and he immediately pulls out, leaving you gasping for air. He’s worried he’s gone too far and that you were afraid to stop him. He lets go of your hair and drops to his knees in front of you. Grabbing your face with his hands, he wipes away your tears asking if you’re okay. You’re slightly confused, not really registering the worry in his tone or even the words he’s saying. You’re trying to remember in the chaos of bliss if you had somehow accidentally tapped his thigh to signal for him to stop. 
“W-what?” you asked, dazed. 
“I said, are you okay? Did I go too far?” The guilt starting to creep over his features makes your heart ache for him.
You’re still confused wondering what prompted this, and slowly shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I didn’t tap your thigh, did I?”
“No, but you were crying.” 
You smile at him, leaning in to give him a reassuring kiss. Once you pull away you answer him. 
“No, baby, I’m fine, you haven’t gone too far. It’s just an involuntary reaction. Y’know… my mouth and throat aren’t really used to being so full.” You give him a little wink and he chuckles relieved, and you also notice the slight blush that creeps across his face. 
He leans forward, capturing your lips with his, immediately running his tongue along your lips to deepen the kiss. You bring your own hands up to grab his forearms, leaning into the kiss more as your lips move together, tongues dancing across the others. 
Whatever small part of you that might have had some reservations before starting, sharing the same concerns Frankie had, has completely been wiped away. It sounds cliche, and you know the only person that can truly heal you is yourself, but in this moment…  it’s as if he has taken you apart piece by piece, cherishing each one, polishing it until it looks brand new again, putting each piece back better than he found it. 
Every part of you exposed to him and instead of running, instead of trying to look away each time an ugly or unpleasant part of you is revealed he stays. He’s the “good man in a storm,” fighting his way through the wind, the rain, the debris to show you over and over again that no matter what you might throw his way, no matter what you might reveal about yourself, he will not cave, he will not falter; no judgment, no shame. 
You two pull away for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his thumbs stroking your face and echoing your words from earlier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
You lean back expecting him to stand back up and continue what you were doing, but instead he pulls you back in for one more quick kiss before whispering “go lay down on the bed for me.”
You don’t even think twice or question it before you’re crawling up on the bed and laying down once your head reaches the pillows. Frankie takes a moment to take it all in. You sprawled out on the bed waiting for him, this woman that he loves so much who agreed to let him explore this part of himself without a second thought. He’s never been more grateful for anything in his life than when you entered it. 
You reach a hand out to him, silently urging him to come join you. He grins and slowly makes his way across the bed until he’s hovering over you, nudging your legs apart with his knees so he can rest himself between them. He brings one hand up next to your head, his forearm leaning on the bed to prop him up, while the other hand slowly drifts down your body until his fingers lightly brush your aching clit. 
You shudder and let out a whiny “oh fuck.”
You close your eyes as he swiftly enters a single finger into you, easily sinking it all the way in. “Mmmm, oh baby, so wet already for me. Think you’re ready?”
You open your eyes and nod your head quickly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
“I can’t wait any longer, please just fuck me. Please please please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, you feel like you’re about to explode from all the teasing, edging, and waiting since this all started.
He just looks down at you almost sympathetically. “Fuck you sound so pretty begging for me. But I have to get you ready for me baby, we’re going fast and hard tonight.”
You whine in frustration, starting to get fed up with not getting your way. He slips a second finger into you, slowly starting to thrust them back and forth. It’s not enough though.
“It’s not enough, Frankie please.” You lift your hips up hoping you can entice him to just take you already. All he does is chuckle in response.
“Such a needy little thing.” He slips a third finger in, fucking his fingers in and out faster. For a brief moment, there’s some relief from the stretch, but you realize quickly that it’s still not enough.
You reach down with one of your hands in an attempt to grab his and manage to wrap it around his wrist. All this does though is instigate him to stop with his fingers still inside of you. He looks at you disapprovingly, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is this how we get what we want?”
You shake your head, and let out a small “no” before removing your hand from his wrist, dropping it beside you on the mattress in defeat. 
He just looks you over, mulling something over before snapping his eyes back to yours. He slowly removes his fingers from inside you and brings them up to your lips.
“Open up.”
You do as you’re told, just staring at him as he dips his fingers into your mouth. You immediately wrap your lips around them, licking and sucking them clean from your arousal. Once he’s satisfied, he slowly pulls them out and braces his forearm on the other side of your head, settling himself down and pressing his weight on you.
You feel his cock heavy against your mound. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly starts thrusting back and forth, dragging himself over your clit with each pass. You bring your hands to his lower back, trying to get him to go faster, anything to finally push you over the edge. Instead he stops and just looks at you. At this point, you’re so close to just reaching down and finishing yourself off, but that’s not what you want. 
Without a word, he slowly guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, finally notching it there. You involuntarily clench and whimper at the promise of finally getting what you want. He leans down and runs the tip of his nose over the shell of your ear before whispering, taunting you. “Is this what you’ve been wanting? Is this what all that pitiful whining has been about? Can’t wait one second more for my cock to split you open?”
You sigh, closing your eyes. “Yes daddy.”
He chuckles and continues. "Y'know, you've been such a good girl for me tonight, but now I want to hear you say my name. You got that?" 
He emphasizes his point, suddenly thrusting into you completely. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hands wrapping around his back, nails immediately digging into his skin. A deep guttural moan making its way out of you.
“Oh fuck! Yes Frankie.”
He shifts around, moving his arms to hook under knees, bringing them closer to your chest as he rests his forearms back on the mattress. He licks his lips and gives you one sweet peck before thrusting slowly out and quickly back into you, immediately setting a fast pace. 
The room fills with sounds of your hips slapping together, and the moans falling from both of your lips.
He growls in your ear. “I’ll never get enough of how wet you get for me. I slipped in so easily. You’ve been so good for me tonight. Fuck. I love you so much.” 
Even with the fast pace, you can tell he’s holding back still. “Frankie, just let go. I can take it.” 
He drops his head into your shoulder with a moan, thrusting himself into you harder. Between the angle and how deep he’s reaching, the tip of his cock keeps rubbing against that spot that fills your vision with spots. You can feel your cunt slowly clenching around his cock tighter and tighter.
He lets out a low groan, almost sounding pained. “Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me so tight, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”
You can hardly hear him from the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, yes Frankie, please don’t stop. Oh ffffuck-”
Like a string being pulled taught to its snapping point, whatever was holding you back from going over the edge finally snaps and your orgasm hits you quick and hard. Your vision blurs and your whole body wraps around Frankie as tight as it can as he fucks you through your release.
“Frankie, Frankie please cum for me. Please, I want to feel you so bad.” You dig your heels into his lower back, urging him to take what he needs. His breathing is heavy and labored against your shoulder as he chases his own release. 
“You’re always so good to me, fuck baby. Fuck, I’m so close.” It takes one, two, three more hard thrusts before you feel him pulse as he’s spilling his seed into you, following up with shallow thrusts riding out the high until it becomes too much.
You both just lay there wrapped around each other for a moment, breathing heavily and covered in a thick layer of sweat. You both hiss as Frankie slowly pulls out of you and drops down on the bed next to you. You take a moment to look over at him as he lays there with his eyes closed still trying to catch his breath. He wipes a large hand over his face before he looks over at you, a sleepy but sated smile on his face. You bite your lip while giving him a small smile.
“That was…” you start, but he quickly jumps in to finish your sentence.
“Better than I could have ever hoped for.”
You beam at him, feeling a small sense of pride that you were able to fulfill this fantasy he’s been holding back from you. Feeling even more delighted that you thoroughly enjoyed it, wondering when the two of you might do that again.
He reaches out and pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He places a soft kiss to the top of your head before running his fingers through your hair. “How are you feeling?”
You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of him wrapped around you. You just hum in response, not knowing what to say. He takes his hand from your hair and, using a finger, gently lifts your chin up to face him. He’s smiling sweetly down at you, but you notice how there’s a twinge of worry in his eyes. “Baby, I need you to answer me.”
You smile at him rasping out “tired.”
He just chuckles. “But you’re okay?”
You nod, bringing one of your hands up to brush your fingers across his jaw. “I’m great Frankie, you always take such good care of me.”
He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm before placing it back against his jaw.
“What about here?” He lightly rubs a hand down to skim the skin on your ass. 
“A little sore, but I kinda like it.”
He starts brushing his fingers through your hair again. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
You snuggle into him closer, wrapping your arm around his chest. “Just hold me.”
He chuckles and pulls you in closer, wrapping both arms around you.
“And… and maybe…”
“What do you need, baby? I’ll do anything.”
You look up at him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Maybe a lil nap and then I get to call the shots?” You bite the inside of your lip as you smile at him, waiting for his reaction.
His eyes widen in surprise before he leans down to capture your lips in his for a quick kiss. “You don’t gotta ask me twice.”
784 notes · View notes
sqiim · 15 days
Text
they keep on watchin’
(mdni)
gallagher x reader
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warnings: real uncle!gallagher, incest!!!!, uncle - niece incest, minor breeding kink, perv!gallagher, unsafe sex, no y/n, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, gallagher being an alcoholic, gallagher is a sleazebag, age gap (reader is in her 20s, gallagher is in his 40s), spanking, fem!reader, praise, dd:dne, sub!reader
a/n: THIS IS REAL INCEST, NOT STEPCEST!!! shoutout to @hakuhub bcs they gave soms good suggestions on some dialogue (and also they were very excited about this so i hope i've delivered).
remember that no one is forcing you to read this!!! don't like, don't read. i don't use the 'tw incest' tag as it means my fic will not get as much reach as others, so if you don't like this, please block me/ignore this post
title is from gimme more by britney spears
wc: 3.5k
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He can't believe he's doing this. He's a busy man, high up in the ranks ‘n all and an damn good mixologist. Busy should be his middle name, and alcoholic his last name, but that's besides the point.
Last time Gallagher agreed to anything his brother proposed, he got his ass kicked into next week. For what? Even to this day he doesn't know, but he reckons he got beat up for being mistaken for his brother.
Should be in the past now, but those guys who beat him up surely knew how to pack a punch. He's got fucking war wounds.
At least the ladies like them.
Anyway, despite the fact that his brother gets him into more than shit situations, it's his brother for fucks sake. Family and all, gotta keep close to them.
Well, he says this, but as he's stood by your front door being reintroduced to you after at least over a decade, it's a jarring experience. Not sure if it's really worth it or not.
You're still his little niece that he remembers, a kid with spunk and fire for adventure, curiosity brimming in your eyes. Now it's just mellow and curves for days.
Well, mellow is harsh. You're older, calmed down a lot more since he last saw you obviously. You've just got a pretty smile on your face, and he's sure you got that from your mother.
And your body is a lot more grown up now. You're in twenties (if his memory serves him right), and you certainly look it. Your tits are nice, and just from the curve of your hips, he's sure you've got a nice ass too.
He blatantly ignores the fact that you're his niece. His only justification is that it's been a slight dry spell, with the being busy and the alcohol flowing through his system on most days.
If he had the chance, he'd fuck any good looking humam he sees. He's got standards.
Tits are tits, ass is ass, pussy is pussy. He's not fussy, he loves women, loves everything about them, especially their assets. He'll preach about loving women until the day he dies.
“Gallagher,” His brother stares at him, more like a glare, but Gallagher's good at ignoring people's emotions. Comes with the job of being an alcoholic. Did he mention he was an alcoholic? “Take good care of her.”
“‘Course.” Giving his brother a firm nod, he clasps his hand in his, a firm handshake before his brother sets off.
He can't remember the exact details, something about a work trip his brother simply cannot refuse to attend. To be fair, he doesn't even know what job he works.
Details, details. He's more worried about the next case he's got slave over rather than what his brother's occupation is.
“Uncle.” Your voice is soft, less squeaky than when you were a kid that's for sure. Quite quiet as well, clearly you're uncomfortable. You probably don't even remember him, and now he's got to look after you for a couple weeks.
Yeah, he gets it. Hell, he'd definitely feel the same way if he were you.
Gallagher rubs his stubble, realising that he's not responded to you. “Sorry kiddo- spaced out there for a sec.”
Awkwardness rings in the air, and you don't help that fact when you make your own awkward laugh. “That's alright.” You then gesture to the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
A scoff, because Jesus, when was the last time he had a normal drink besides water and alcohol? He knows his liver gets closer and closer to kicking the bucket each day, but still.
“You got anything stronger, sweetheart?”
It's been a few days since he's been here, and it's been pretty easy going. You mainly keep to yourself as you're probably still feeling nervous around him (to which, he tries not to take some offence to, is he that scary looking?)
But everything else is oddly fine. Slightly unsettling about how smooth sailing everything's going but at this point, he's not complaining.
Gallagher, feeling particularly nice today, decided to make lunch for the both of you. It's also an apology meal after he got blackout drunk on the first night he was here.
He's already bound to the sofa anyway, but he can get loud and difficult to deal with. Didn't deliberately try to get that drunk, especially how nervous you are around him, but he probably didn't account for the dregs that were already in his system.
“Uncle?” Must've smelt the food, he reckons. He's a connoisseur at making food, kind of has to be anyway, living on his own and eating shit food is no way for a king to live.
“Made some food- hope ya like it.” Dishing it up, he pushes the plate to you with a crooked smile. And that's when he actually looks at you.
Pink is a bold colour, it's the first thing that hits his eyes when he looks at you. He thought you might have grown out of that colour, but he guesses not.
And a skirt too, his lucky fucking day. He can't say he isn't staring at your tits, but they look extra supple in that shirt.
Shit, is he really that desperate? Eye-fucking his niece because no one wants him because he either is too drunk to fuck anyone or too busy, ‘cause you know, busy is his middle name.
Seems you haven't noticed his staring, but you give him a sweet smile after taking a couple bites. “Thank you, it tastes really good.” It's earnest, he can tell through the thickness of it in your voice.
“No worries kiddo.” His hand flexes, reaching up and ruffling your head. He doesn't know why he does it, doesn't even know why he calls you kiddo, maybe it's because you're family.
Or maybe because he's old, wrinkles threatening his features while you glow in youth. You're a college student now for god's sake, you'd obviously be young, especially compared to him.
He tries not to read in-between the lines.
Either way, you give him a gentle smile. Even after he messes up your hair, you're still polite. How the hell did his brother raise such a good kid?
His brother must've been made in a petri dish with his kind of behaviour. Gallagher must've taken all the good behaviour genes, whereas his brother took whatever leftovers he had. Sometimes he wonders how he got a hot wife and hot kids with the way he is.
Whatever happened to natural selection?
It doesn't matter anyway, one day at his old age, he'll settle down like his brother. One day, he hopes. If not, then the only companion he'll have is cheap booze.
After the lunch interaction, you don't speak to each other for the rest of the day. Same old keeping yourself to yourself. You only come down for dinner and make polite conversation, and all he does is stare.
He's a simple man, he knows this.
Currently though, it's late. Last time he checked, it's two hours into a new day, and he's watching crappy television with a can of beer in his hand.
He thought he might relax, especially because he's been catching up on paperwork. Not even babysitting can make him escape work. Too much to do and not enough time.
“Uncle?” Your voice is like a lightning bolt, one that's quick to register in his brain despite his inebriated state, his head whipping ‘round to take a look at you.
Relaxing into his seat, he takes in your full appearance. It's a fairly warm night, so you're only in a very baggy shirt, so baggy that he doesn't know if you've got just panties on or if you've got sleeping shorts on.
He hopes for the former, and he'll be luckier if you have nothing on underneath. He can tell you haven't got a bra on, your nipples already peeking through.
“Hey sweetheart.” It comes out a little gravelly, maybe a hint of a drawl as well, but he's hoping you won't notice his partially wasted form. “What's the matter?”
Fiddling with your nails, you gaze down at your hands and timidly mumble under your breath. Gallagher's ears aren't as good as they used to be, so he can barely even tell if you've even said anything.
“What's with the shy act? Here I was thinkin’ we were getting along nicely.” That much is true, he hoped that you'd cosied up to him a bit more, but now he feels like it's gone backwards.
But that's when you look up, and you've got tears watering in your eyes. “‘m sorry I just- I had a nightmare and-” You pause, sniffling a little. “I don't wanna be alone right now.”
Now, Gallagher can explain many things. He's a security officer, he should know everything about everyone, all for the job. But he couldn't give a single good reason as to why his trousers are tightening.
He's borderline drunk for fucks sake, he shouldn't be getting hard that quick. Well, he hopes it's only hard hard, makes it less noticeable.
Gallagher smiles at you, beckoning you to come toward him with his hand, to which you do. That nearly goes straight to his dick too, but he's trying to ignore what is in his trousers for at least two seconds. “Sit down, sweetheart.”
You look like a deer in headlights, but you do as he says anyway, sitting so close to him that a faint smell of your perfume reaches his nose and your thighs are mushed together.
Gallagher slings his arm around you, pulling your body close for a hug. Usually, he would be less forthright, but everyone likes a hug when they're sad, and you don't even complain either, in fact, you lean into his touch.
“S'alright now,” He pauses, and before even he knows it, he's got a hand on your bare thigh, stroking it gently. “Just relax with me.”
It feels like your eyes are burning holes into his hand, like you've gone rigid, but in his head, you're soft and pliable.
The two of you stay silent after that, and Gallagher has to pat himself on the back because he's such a good uncle, and he's being good by not letting his hand wander.
Well, as soon as the thought crosses his mind, his hand stills on your upper thigh, just shy of the hem of your shirt, before it slips underneath.
Warm is one word to describe you, flushed with heat underneath the thin shirt, but he's not complaining. You're also not wearing any underwear.
A slight surprise, one that's very welcome to him.
You're no longer looking at him, now at the television with such rapture. Like you're trying to ignore the fact that your uncle's hand is going to your pussy. And you like it.
Nudging your legs apart, his finger runs along your clit from your hole, then back down once again. Practically drenched, he thinks his fingers have gone wrinkly already from how wet you are.
Leaning in close to your ear, he mumbles gently. “This all for me, baby?”
That's when you finally look at him, and that's when he realises that your practically panting like a dog, pupils dilated like you're on a high, and it's exhilarating. “Uh-huh…”
He adds another finger to his ministrations on your pussy, rubbing a couple tight circles before sinking one finger into your hole, and that's when you gasp, especially when he curls his finger.
“Spread ‘em more f'me.” Not even a please, must've forgotten his manners. Gallagher's drunk, he has an excuse either way. But you do as you're told, spreading your legs as wide as you can, and you even lift your shirt for him to see your cunt.
“So pretty.” His finger curls inside of you, a hum of a moan slipping through your lips as you slip your eyelids shut in a pleasure filled haze. “Gonna make you cum just on my finger.”
Seems that you were really pent up, or you're just extremely sensitive or his fingers are that akin to magic, because you're already clutching his thigh and spilling out gentle moans.
“So fuckin’ easy- c'mon, get ‘em wet.” Feeling around a bit more, he evokes your release, making you clamp down on his finger to the point where he's vaguely worried you're going to cut the circulation off.
“Oh my- fuck-” It's breathless, borderline whorish coming out of your mouth, a hint of a moan in your voice leaves little to the imagination.
However, his finger hasn't stopped its ministrations, in fact, Gallagher's added another finger, curling in you and immediately jabbing at that soft spot.
Not even getting a chance to calm down from your peak, you gasp for air like you're drowning, still clutching onto his thigh so hard he's sure you've probably taken a chunk out of it already.
Considering he's made of muscle, he's impressed with some of the strength you've got.
“Uncle- I-” The call of his title is like a bucket of ice cold water mercilessly poured on him, but it doesn't hinder him from his original task.
Yeah, he's got his fingers knuckles deep in his niece's pussy, so what? In for a penny, in for a pound.
“What?” He says it quite loudly, he actually winces at it as well, but you don't seem to mind, especially because you're bucking your hips into his palm. “Use your words sweetheart.”
“I- I think I'm gonna- gonna cum-” Your voice tightens, much like how your cunt is over his fingers now that you're cumming on them.
Your juices pool into the sofa, sinking down and marking their claim. It gives the furniture proof of the sin he's committed.
Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, Gallagher slowly pulls his fingers out once your legs stop shaking, enraptured by the clear yet viscous liquid that still leaves a connection between his fingers and your cunt, even if they've left your hole.
“Open wide, baby.” Hovering just shy of your lips, you open your mouth wide to welcome his fingers in, licking and sucking them clean.
A lazy grin swoops his lips, very clearly pleased with the sight before him. “Fuck- shoulda come here sooner, gotta nice little mouth on you.”
Your eyes gaze up at him, piercing into him coyly. Reminds him how fucking hard he is, like his dick is going to suffocate in his trousers.
Yanking his fingers out from your mouth, Gallagher sloppily undoes his fly and pulls his cock out. Tries to not take the gasp of surprise you let out when you see it to heart, but his ego is low enough to believe it.
Seems like you know what you're doing, as you're already straddling him, hovering over his cock and lining him up.
You bottom down on him slowly, a hum of approval slipping through his lips as you slide him in.
“Uncle- hand-” Seems like the art of coherent conversation is lost on you, and Gallagher wouldn't be lying if he said it wasn't sweet.
He's not quite sure what you're insinuating, but he lifts his hand up, watching you grab it and immediately shove his fingers down your throat.
That's when you start rolling your hips, whining and drooling over his fingers like they were the most amazing thing to have in your mouth.
Gallagher's free hand clenches your side, guiding your hips gently, before slipping his fingers out of your warm mouth to have a firm grip on you. “That's it sweetheart, doin’ a perfect job.”
Eyes pinched shut and lips gently parted, you continue to lazily roll your hips, your face slightly screwing up from the delight his cock was giving you.
“Gods- wish you were my baby,” He pauses, lifting your hips up only to send them down again, eliciting a groan from him. “Coulda had you all the time.”
You keep a steady pace of raising your hips up and down, though it's slow and brutal, and although it feels nice, he can't help but want to feel more.
Slipping off your top, he presses his face in your chest, latching a nipple between his teeth to tug on and another to his hand to fondle and squeeze ruthlessly.
After receding, he moves to the other, efficiently sharing his brutal bite on your nipples to give you that extra pleasure. And also because he loves tits.
Finally pulling away from your chest, his hands leave your hips for both of them to pinch and twist your nipples, making your breath hitch far too many times. “Fuckin’ beautiful tits- love ‘em.”
Although Gallagher is a drunken man and quite likes you doing some of the work, he still uses his strength to lift you up and press you almost face down into the sofa, just so he's got a nice view of your ass as he fucks you.
He slowly slips his cock back in you, and it's so fucking easy to with how wet you are.
He's also tempted to give you extra bonus points for clenching around him as he bottoms out. “Y'like that?”
“Yeah- love it uncle-” It's a whine spilling from your lips as he starts thrusting his hips with sloppy vigour.
“Thought you were a nice girl.” A smack to your ass, and his hands lay there squeezing them and guiding your hips to meet with his. “Whaddya say to uncle Gallagher?”
“Thank you! Thankyouthankyou-'' It's a train of spit pooling on the sofa as you go dumb, dumb on the feeling of him hitting all the right spots in you.
At least you're not that lost to not be clenching around him.
“Perfect girl- got me hooked already.” Gallagher's fucked so much pussy he couldn't even count it on both of his hands, but yours was so deliciously tight, he couldn't compare it to anyone else.
Another smack, followed by a few more land on your ass, echoing through the house. “Gonna make your ass red fuckin’ raw- everytime you sit down, you're gonna remember my cock.”
Landing a few more harsh hits, and he can already tell it's going to bruise badly, which is more than fine by him, and he's sure you would've made a complaint as of now if you didn't like it.
He'll make it up to you in the morning either way.
Running a free hand through his hair just to get it out of his eyes, he focused on his cock coming in and out of you, groaning at the feeling being amplified merely by looking at it.
“Think- think I'm gonna cum- I-” Stumbling on your words, Gallagher heeds your warning, leaning forward slightly so his hand can reach underneath to your clit to rub tight circles in.
He's sure he can feel that knot waiting to break in him, but he's too hooked on making you cum to really notice it.
Clenching around him, you cry out your orgasm, hips jolting up and down his cock as your legs tremble and quiver from the release.
“Take it sweetheart- fill you up to the brim, and you're gonna like it.” He starts to really fuck into, feeling much more sober.
“I- not on protection-” It's small, one tired and gasped out just because of the searing overstimulation gifted to you.
“Shit- really?” The right thing to do would be to pull out, but something in his head, or maybe just being delusional, tells him to cum in you.
“Shit- might knock you up.” The thought makes him edge that bit closer to his release, which is already tethering the brink. “‘m gonna fuckin’- gonna breed you-”
You cry out, seemingly already close to cumming again. “Please- really want it-”
“Yeah?” Breathlessly spoken, he starts to rub your clit again, because he thinks that you deserve to cum once more before him. “I'll give it to you, baby.”
For once, he's glad he drank so much.
As you clamber out your final release, he joins you almost straight after, your hips stuttering again and his slowly down exponentially, oozing out those last drops of cum in you.
Gallagher moves to pull out, but you protest, mumbling it out. “Keep it in- please-”
All he does is chuckle and shake his head, manhandling you so you're now sat back on his lap, your back against his chest.
His hands roam around your body gently, caressing each bit of your skin, before a hand reaches your jaw, pulling it to the side so you face him.
Pressing your lips gently together, he grins into the kiss, before pulling away not long after to dot kisses all over your face.
“If you're hoping for round two, you might have to wait awhile.” His voice is far more gravelly than he had realised, must've been the exertions he's put on it as well as his body.
But all you do is grace him with a dreamy grin back at him, your hand absently grazing his stubble. “Mhm…”
Chuckling again, he takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides- we've still got a whole week and a bit left, don't we?”
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