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joelsgreys · 5 months

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someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She is donning festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress; her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I��ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#asdfghjkl BYE #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #dbf joel miller #dbf joel x reader #fic: someone to be thankful for

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satoruhour · 7 months

Note

I’m a satoru girl through and through but….I saw this headcanon post on tiktok saying that geto would grip the head board with one hand…and I’ve never been the same.

a/n: this got a little kick to it ngl! a little half assed bc i havent been writing properly these few days and rather just rambling. tagging my geto fuckers @na-t0 @crysugu @slttygeto

warnings: fem!reader, reader has a hand kink, fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, sex in geto’s parents’ house, finger sucking, n*sfw under the cut

anyone who’s met geto suguru knows he has pretty hands and arms. when he explains the differences between his curses, you’re only looking at his hands, at how he summons them and absorbs them back into his being. when geto drives, the way his muscles tense and release against the black shirt make you clench your thighs together.

the winning thing to finally get you to release a breath is the hand on your thigh, squeezing and feeling around. it’s routine. he’s always done it, but you aren’t sure why the feeling is so vivid now.

“what is it, darling? you keep sighing.” your boyfriend’s eyes are still on the road, unaware of your predicament before he finally has the chance to turn to you: all hot and bothered and heaving. “are you okay? we can turn back around if you’re feeling nervous.”

you were meeting his parents, of course you were nervous! but all you do is reassure him with a hand to his and a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

but dinner is as difficult as it is — “suguru, may i have a tissue?” his mother calls out, not wanting to bother you even though you were closer to the tissue box. geto reaches over your plate with an apology, muscled arm right up to your face that you suck in a breath. your lover takes four prawns, but you already know he’s on his way to peel two for you.

he digs at the prawn’s skin and pulls, rips out the legs and takes off the head, not even hearing his father’s question about what you’re majoring in because you were too hyper-fixated on suguru’s fingers. you pray that he never finds out about this, but he manages to tease it out of you later in his bedroom which his parents have kept clean. the bed fits you perfectly fine, geto’s fingers try their best.

“this why you were so distracted this evening?” geto laughs into your skin, enjoying the shyness you’re exhibiting. even now, you’re trying to hide the way your eyes flicker to his hands that pump in and out of you, mewling into your shirt.

“y—yeah . .” you mumble, grasping at his biceps to be close to geto.

he coos, “oh, baby . . could’ve just said so.” he indulges you, leaning forward to kiss you as his fingers move at a lazy pace, strictly for stretching you out before you’re left empty. you’re no stranger to geto’s cock, and yet the size always takes your breath away.

“now . . gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” geto nudges his tip past your folds and you’re taking quick breaths. you can barely hold his stare, legs coming around to hug his waist. “don’t want my parents hearing how the sweet girl they met just now is actually a filthy little thing.”

you nod.

“tha’s a good girl . .” geto sucks in a breath when he comes right up to the hilt and he thinks he might just cum with how much you’re clenching around him. you’re always so good to him, so pliant and so caring, little broken sputters of his name leaving your lips.

“su— gu— ru—!” he makes a statement with every accurate thrust, threatening you to let out louder sounds than now. he’s so so afraid of his parents walking in, because despite his instructions, he’s not exactly following. his grunts are getting louder and spiralling into moans, not to mention, your pussy is just crying for him.

“you’re so— wet, sweetheart.” suguru drags a hand down to your clit and plays with it, making you arch your back off the sheets and grind your hips back onto his. he tuts. “aht! down, baby. i know you’re eager, but i want you to— f-fuck . . let me do all the work.”

geto smiles a little when you obey, purposefully flexing his arms a little more to wind you up. if the hand on your clit wasn’t enough, the other works its way up your body, spanning the beauty of your stomach and just feeling you. they trail up even more to your face where you lean into his touch and then they’re above you.

you make the mistake of glancing up, seeing how his grips his headboard so damn tightly it’s clear that your cunt is the only cunt to make him feel this way — his biceps tense and move together with the headboard, the uncomfortable squeaking definitely giving you two away. well, the sounds of his balls slamming into your ass was also another indicator, coupled with the squelching of your pussy.

“eyes up here, sweetheart.” you’re caught. again. there’s a smug smirk on his face at your clueless face, having no chance to apologise before he uses the hand on your clit and sticks his fingers in your mouth. you moan around them, grabbing on his wrist immediately to suck on them. geto twitches in you at the sight, rough thrusts stammering just a little and you give him a smile back.

geto chuckles, “what a slut.”

thank u for requesting! request something here ☆

#anon #asks #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk geto x reader #getou smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you

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love-belle · 7 months

Text

today and tomorrow and every day after that !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them pretending as if they haven't already made it till forever.

for when it'll be them today, tomorrow and then a day after that. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

prequel - i should hate you ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - it's 3am and im tired. thank u and i hope u like it <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, carmenmmundt and 789,416 others

yourusername his big wet eyes and loser personality have captivated me

tagged maxverstappen1

7,628 comments

username STFU OMG

username NO WAY SHE POSTED HIM AFTER MONTHS FOR RADIO SILENCE

username GIRL WHAT

username kinda hypocritical of u to go back to ur ex after yelling at us to fuck him (figuratively)

-> yourusername sorry bb he cried until i gave in

-> maxverstappen1 stop spreading lies

username the way i js relaxed and it wasn't even my relationship like DAMN

username im a child of TOGETHER parents

username i need this

danielricciardo i better be the godfather of your vaginal demons

-> yourusername pls take back ur bf heidiberger_

-> heidiberger_ timeout. NOW.

-> maxverstappen1 why only HER vaginal demons. i helped too

-> danielricciardo yeah for like 2 seconds

-> yourusername STOP TALKING ABT MT VAGINAL DEMONS

-> yourusername oh god

-> username "i helped too" LMFAOAOAOAN WTF

maxverstappen1 this is cyber bullying

-> yourusername stfu i love those photos like fetus maximus ❤️

-> maxverstappen1 that's not my name and you know it

-> yourusername honestly u should he HONOURED that u share a name with maximus the horse 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

username who needs reality tv when u have this comments section

username everyday i discover something entirely new about this whole group and atp im not even surprised

username don't post me unless the caption is "his big wet eyes and loser personality have captivated me"

maxverstappen1 i don't have a loser personality

-> yourusername u wear skinny jeans

-> username gagged him

-> username no bc they need to GO

maxverstappen1 okay but i could be your loser boyfriend, you ever think of that?

-> yourusername ur already my loser husband wdym

-> danielricciardo GIRL

-> maxverstappen1 wow

-> yourusername oh

-> yourusername haha surprise people

-> username say what the fuck now

-> username istg if i find out that they're MARRIED after WEEKS of agony and pain i will riot

maxverstappen1 you suck at keeping secrets

-> yourusername u suck in general

-> maxverstappen1 real mature

username i'd die for them and they don't even know me

username WHATTHEFYCK

username i did not see this coming wtfff

username WHEN WAS THIS.

username no bc the fact that they STILL don't follow each other is HILARIOUS

username giggling rn he's so babygirl i love him

lilymhe run away with me

-> yourusername absolutely

-> maxverstappen1 aren't you MY wife

-> lilymhe divorce exists

-> yourusername she has a point

username im paralysed like WHAT DO U MEAN THEY'RE MARRIED

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 895,315 others

maxverstappen1 something about how i'd marry you with paper rings and in this case, a string (or $1 rings from vending machine)

tagged yourusername

9,628 comments

maxverstappen1 i did not write the caption

-> maxverstappen1 y/n wrote this caption

-> yourusername i did not write this caption

username bitches be crying bc two people who do not know her at all are being cute and parents i am bitches

username she can spit on me

-> username she can ruin me actually

username nah ur not ginna distract us w this post WE NEED ANSWERS

-> username FRRRR LIKE WDYM UR HER HUSBAND

username pretty people (max and y/n) ruining it for the others (me)

username last slide made my heart crack

charles_leclerc i have heard you sing that little song to yourself. you wrote this caption.

-> maxverstappen1 i hope you like my rear

-> yourusername no bc he actually does

-> charles_leclerc i mean...

-> maxverstappen1 are we about to kiss right now?

-> alexandrasaintmleux does this mean......yourusername

-> yourusername babe come over ❤️

-> username what in the world is happening in this comments section

username everyday i wake up against my will and lose a part of myself knowing that my wife was snatched up by a vroom vroom mutation

username max it's ok to love ur wife!!!!!!!! we do too!!!!!!!!

-> maxverstappen1 she's not my wife. referring to her as such damages my reputation

-> yourusername i hope u like the doghouse

-> maxverstappen1 fun fact! we don't have a dog

-> yourusername new fact! now we do

-> maxverstappen1 uh

-> username i live for y/n terrorizing max every moment of the day

username nah my eyes are js overflowing with fluid im not crying 😂😂😂😂😂

username someone sedate me...........is max being romantic (?????????) on the main

username this is the peak of my existence

username lord what have i done wrong

danielricciardo as if you're not literally sitting on her lap right now

-> maxverstappen1 she tripped me

-> yourusername u literally told me that u would commit heinous crimes if i didn't let u sit on my lap

-> maxverstappen1 you tripped me

-> username i need to put his brain under a microscope and js SEE

-> username no bc how he goes from point a to point b needs to be scientifically studied

username don't mind me js going crazy over the fact that my parents MAY be married

yourusername u told me that i was the one who should propose

-> maxverstappen1 yes

-> yourusername and then snatched my ring and proposed to ME with MY ring

-> maxverstappen1 yes

-> yourusername yeah lemme js 🧠🔬

yourusername in any case, the answer would be fuck no ❤️

-> maxverstappen1 i'm calling christian and telling him that you're bullying his first driver.

yourusername IT'S A LOVE STORY BABY JS SAY YES!!!!!!!! (yes)

-> maxverstappen1 uh, i already asked charles_leclerc so...

-> charles_leclerc sorry

-> yourusername homwrecker

-> charles_leclerc there was no home to wreck

-> yourusername yeah i'll js sing boyfriend by dove cameron to alex instead

username this comments section is what keeps me up at night

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, carmenmmundt, landonorris and 1,527,278 others

yourusername babygirl u are a very freak and strange. i am deeply in love with u. all jokes aside, we made it. i know we got married like weeks ago but marrying u like FOR REAL has been the most beautiful moment of my life. i wanna spend everyday with u, in this life and all the others. vegas was a trip but even then, it was perfect with u, the one i was marrying and as taylor swift said "i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings" or in our case, $1 rings from the vending machine. i wanna go to museums with u and point to pictures with weird guys and say "that's u". i wanna dance in the kitchen with u. i wanna look back after decades at all these memories and laugh, knowing that my now-self made the best decision. i love u even if u have me saved as "DO NOT ANSWER ❌" in ur phone. i think forever would be nice with u or till death do us apart (or someone in a suit if this escalates to a divorce).

tagged maxverstappen1

11,628 comments

username give me a minute. or a year

username hahahahahahaha PAUSE.

username no bc i missed the WHOLE BOOK instead of chapters

username and this is how they managed to break the f1 fandom

username PLEASE IM CRYING WHATCTYENFUCK

username they 😭 got 😭 married 😭

username IM CRYING WHATTTEYEGDHDJD

carmenmmundt all my love to both of you !! i love you and you deserve nothing but happiness 🤍 thank you so much for letting me be a part of your special day

-> yourusername carmen 🤍🤍🤍 u own my heart and thank UUUUUU for being a part of my big day

username "i think forever would be nice with u or till death do us apart (or someone in a suit if this escalates to a divorce)" y/n y/l/n how does it feel to be the most hilarious person ever 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

username im in SHAMBLES rn what the fuck

username someone sedate me bc there's NO way this is real

landonorris good luck because he's with you till you decompose

-> maxverstappen1 i'll go with her into the afterlife too like who the fuck she trying to meet there

-> yourusername bold of u to assume you'd even get in

-> maxverstappen1 is this what married life is like???

username i am unwell

username "i wanna go to museums with u and point to pictures with weird guys and say "that's u"" THIS IS TRUE LOVE

username and adding onto my 262728292 reasons

username the caption has me shaking on the floor gasping for breath

username i have PRAYED for times like these

username FUCJ YESHSHHSJSJSJS

danielricciardo the best night even though i don't remember any of it

-> yourusername u tried to set our marriage certificate on fire saying "it's set in stone now"

-> danielricciardo doing god's work

-> username no bc y/nmax nation would be in RUINS if it weren't for daniel

username sobbing they're soooo parents now it's crazy

username i js woke up whatcthebfufk

username AHSHSJJKKSSKAKSJSJKS

maxverstappen1 never changing your contact name

-> yourusername this is so not sexie new husband of u

maxverstappen1 we look lovely

-> yourusername yes we do

maxverstappen1 mrs. y/l/n-verstappen

-> yourusername mr. verstappen-y/l/n

username YELLING THIS IS REVOLUTIONARY

username screeching when will it be my turn

username never ever ever getting over this caption

username this will go down in history for YEARS to come

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 2,128,268 others

maxverstappen1 never really did sappy posts but this means the world to me and i guess there's a first (???) time for everything. all i can say is that i truly cannot wait to spend all my days with you and go to sleep thinking that i can't wait to do it again tomorrow. and i think, there's nothing more lovelier than that. you once told me that i deserved the world, i hope we get to see it together. i wanna hear how your day was, today and tomorrow and every day after that. but before getting to all those tomorrows, here's to our forever that's summed up for me in a small moment.

tagged yourusername

13,628 comments

username shut up and think about what u did

username i can't cry im in class WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO ME

username no bc this is literally my last straw ENOUGH

username "here's to our forever that's summed up for me in a small moment" THIS DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE AND IT MADE ME SOB

username no bc he had no RIGHT to post this

username girlypop im still recovering from y/n's post give me 4-5 business years

username not cool max verstappen not COOL.

username tears are streaming down my face what the actual fuck

landonorris okay i shed a few tears

-> maxverstappen1 mate you were sobbing while giving your speech

-> landonorris I SUFFERED THE MOST OKAY

-> username no bc lando is their ACTUAL child of divorce

username this is ASTRONOMICAL like this is INSANE

username the bar is so high it js looks like a dash at this point

username everyone go home. max js won

-> maxverstappen1 winning on and off track

-> yourusername u cried when i beat u in mario kart

-> maxverstappen1 I CAN'T DRIVE

-> yourusername UR A PROFESSIONAL DRIVER

username further proof of if he wanted to he would

username "i truly cannot wait to spend all my days with you and go to sleep thinking that i can't wait to do it again tomorrow" js take me swiftly and now

username IN LOVE WITH THEIR WEDDING AESTHETIC LIKE IT EATS SO HARD

username i've prayed for times like these ❤️

charles_leclerc can't believe you would cheat on me

-> maxverstappen1 might just leave her for you

-> yourusername is this a bad time to tell u both that im already seeing someone???? alexandrasaintmleux

-> alexandrasaintmleux my angel ❤️

-> charles_leclerc wait a minute

-> maxverstappen1 now hold on

username live for men are unapologetically in love with their partners like there's nothing more sexy than that

username liar every single post abt y/n has been a sappy post

-> maxverstappen1 she holds me hostage every time

-> yourusername divorce papers look so sexy rn

username IT'S BEEN SUCH A LONG JOURNEY Y'ALL WE MADE IT

username my babies ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo tell lando i'm the godfather

-> landonorris he WON'T because you're NOT

-> maxverstappen1 guys we don't even have a baby

-> danielricciardo obviously we're talking about the future. your swimmers ain't THAT competitive unlike you

-> yourusername BAHAHAHAHA PLEASE UR SO WRONG FOR THAT

-> maxverstappen1 and you're officially out of the godfather contestants

username need a documentary on this like my life depends on this bc it DOES

username i never will be moving on from this post

yourusername i love u i love u i love u i love u i love u i love u

-> maxverstappen1 likewise

-> yourusername yeah i'll just

*yourusername deleted this comment*

yourusername ty

-> maxverstappen1 have a sense of humour

-> yourusername i married u what's funnier than THAT

-> username CLEARED HIM

-> username LFMSOAOAOAO

yourusername nice caption, wonder who edited it 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

-> maxverstappen1 i don't know, this girl who follows me everywhere and calls me maximus

-> yourusername she sounds cute

-> maxverstappen1 yeah, she really is

yourusername nvm idgaf I LOVEEEEEE YOU

-> maxverstappen1 i love you more

yourusername husband

-> maxverstappen1 wife

username giggling rn im sooooo happy

username i will show this to my kids

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #max verstappen fluff #fake social media #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen instagram au

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neowinestainedress · 7 months

Text

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.

genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)

warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n

visuals

wc: 16.590k

a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don’t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡

The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.

You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.

You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through.

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you.

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It’s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open. You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement.

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed.

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face.

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small.

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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smoooothoperator · 3 months

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13: Little Life

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot of fluff

a/n: any guesses of what was the gifts Lando gave her?? just a miracle I had any ideas of what to write bc i'm sick lol :)

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Never in my life I imagined I would be that nervous. I wasn't nervous during my graduation from college, nor during my job interview where I had to translate a really complicated text. I was nervous the last time I had to face my ex, that man that tried to force me on my birthday. But it wasn't the same nervous feeling as the one I have right now.

Waking up on Christmas Day felt different. As a kid, the first thing you do is run out of bed and go to the living room to open all the gifts under the tree.

But now, waking up next to him, felt different. Today I was going to his parents house, with gifts for them in our hands.

“Morning” he whispered, burying his face in the space between my neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss in my skin. “Merry Christmas”

“Merry Christmas” I smiled, moving closer to him. “I have a present for you”

“I have one for you too” he whispered. “I left it under the tree”

I giggled softly and looked at him, cupping his cheek with my hand and kissing his lips softly.

“You are the first guy that slept in this bed” I confessed. “I never imagined I would say something like that to you”

“Why?” he smiled weakly, brushing the hair out of my face.

“Well… As you may remember, I moved to this apartment a year ago, after the incident…” I sighed. “And since that I never felt comfortable around anyone except for Harry”

“Owen…” he sighed and somehow I flinched after hearing his name after a long time, making him wrap his arms around me tighter. “Look, I know sleeping in the same bed as someone else is already hard. But… I just don't want to force you, okay?”

“I mean… I already gave you head, silly” I whisper. “I feel really comfortable with you, I swear”

“I'm glad to hear that” he smiled, kissing my forehead. “Just know that I would never ever force myself into you. Never”

I looked up at him and smiled, pecking his lips softly. I just wanted to show him how much he means everything he's doing for me, how grateful I feel for the love he gives me, and how easy he makes me to love him.

“Let's go open the presents” I whisper, sitting on the bed and stretching my arms, feeling his hand running all over my back.

I smiled and looked at him, kissing him again and again before getting up. I put on my joggers and his hoodie and tied up my hair in a messy bun, waiting for him to get out of the bed.

This felt good. Sleeping with him felt good, having breakfast together felt good. Somehow, being with him all the time felt good, and I don't want to complain about it.

We sat in front of the tree, looking at the bags. Max and Pietra left their gifts for us there, so there were three presents for each one.

“Open mine the last” he said, making me look at him and frown. “Come on! Trust me!”

I sigh and smile softly, leaving the bag with his name next to me and opening the other two with Max's and Pietra's names on it. Pietra gifted me a book nook to put on my shelves and a bag, Max gifted me a reading journal and a book I was looking after about legends and myths.

“Am I that obvious?” I laughed looking at the presents.

“I think your collection of one specific book and your office are a clear example that you love books” he smiled.

“Harry hated that I spent money on buying books” I sighed. “He always said that I should buy something like a Kindle to carry it with me”

“You know the answer to what I think about him” he sighed. “He always said shit like that to everyone, saying that he doesn't spend much money, that he only buys what he thinks he needs. At this point I think he's a narcissist and an egoist, always talking about himself and how good he does things”

I smiled weakly and nodded. I didn't tell him that I saw him yesterday while doing groceries. And I think I won't tell him, yet

“Open mine” he smiled excitedly, looking at me.

“What, you want me to say that it's the best gift?” I smirked looking at him, watching how he was looking at me with happiness in his eyes.

“Oh, I think I know it will be the best one” he joked. “And I have to admit that it's has its merit because I had the idea for it yesterday”

I look at him and shake my head, smiling while I open the bag. There was an envelope and something more wrapped with paper.

“Open the wrapped one” he said, resting his head on his hand.

I frown and grab it, shaking it a little. It sounded exactly like the box of a videogame. I looked at him and rolled my eyes playfully when he wiggled his eyebrows, making me chuckle softly. I tears off the paper, laughing when I saw two blue boxes of a videogame for the PlayStation.

“What? What is this?” I frown looking at the two games. “Assassin's Creed Origins and Odyssey… Oh! Are those games about Greece and Egypt?”

“Correct” he nodded. “Open the Origins one”

I looked at him and smiled, watching that the box didn't have the security plastic. I bite my lip and open it, frowning when I didn't see the CD of the game itself but a few papers folded.

“What…?” I frown, unfolding the papers and gasping when I read what was on them. “No way. Lando! Are you crazy?!”

“Now open the Odyssey one” he chuckled, excited to see my reaction.

“You are insane” I mumbled, opening the other box and finding the same things I saw in the other one. “Lando…”

“I have a lot of free time” he said, grabbing the envelope and placing it in my hand. “And you will too, because I know you can work at distance, that you can translate things without going to the museum because that's what you did while we were on the snow trip”

“But Lando, this… God, this is too much” I said looking at the papers, smiling weakly when I read what was inside the envelope.

“I made you smile, that's the most important thing, Violet” he smiled holding my hand.

“You are crazy” I smile softly, feeling tears in my eyes. “God, you are making me cry! This… this touched me a lot. No one did something like this for me”

“I hope you are crying of happiness” he said, pulling me to him, bringing me to his lap and wrapping his arms around me. “I will do anything to make you happy, Violet. I swear. The money is not important at all, I have enough of it, it's not a problem”

“But my gift is really insignificant compared to this” I sighed.

“I don't care” he whispered. “Besides, this is something I will enjoy too and you will help me enjoy it more”

I smile and kiss his cheek softly, peppering kisses over his jaw and cheek until I touch his lips. The last few days I discovered myself longing for his kisses, to have his lips pressed on my, to feel his lips peppering kisses over my cheek, forehead, shoulder or temple. Kissing him is like a new drug I never want to leave.

“You are amazing” I whisper against his lips.

“I'm just trying to be enough for you” he said. “To be what you deserve”

“You are enough” I whisper.

He smiled and broke the kiss, kissing the tip of my nose before grabbing the bag with the gift I made for him. He opened and smiled, looking at the two boxes inside of it.

“Oh! You noticed” he smiled when he saw the box with his favorite perfume.

“You left the bottle in my room this morning” I said. “I saw that it barely had liquid so I just wanted to get you a new one. And I love the smell of this perfume. I love smelling my this scent in the pillow when you leave, or bury my nose in the neck of this hoodie and smell you”

“Thank you” he smiled, kissing my cheek softly. He opened the other box and smiled, looking at the necklace on it. “At this point I'll only have jewelry you gifted me”

“I would gladly do that” I chuckled. “Do you use rings?”

“I mean… Not all the time” he smiled. “I forget to put them back once I take them off”

“Mhm” I nodded, biting my lip. “Okay”

“Why?”

“Oh, just wondering” I smiled.

We stayed like this for a while, in each other's embrace sitting on the floor, surrounded by presents and broken papers. His hands placed on my back held me tight to him, his thumbs drawing abstract figures over my skin made me relax, his chin resting on the crook of my neck with his breathing in my skin, were the best thing I could feel.

Until now, I never realized that with him I felt safe. Not only now that I'm giving up and letting my walls down for him and that I can finally see how things truly are since I knew how Harry was, but since the first time I saw him. He always looked at me with a soft gaze that now made me regret thinking all those things about him just because Harry said that he was bad news. He always took care of me from the distance, giving me reasons to smile only by sending me books or gifts. He always asked me how I was doing even if he knew that I didn't want to be around him. He was always there for me even if I never noticed.

“Let's make breakfast” I whisper, rubbing his back.

“Okay”

I got up, immediately missing his warmth, and walked to the kitchen to make us something for breakfast. He followed me like a lost puppy, helping me with everything and trying to steal moments to hug me while the pancakes were on the pan.

“You are so clingy” I whispered, placing my free hand on top of his.

“You never complained” he laughed, kissing my cheek.

“And I'll never do it”

Having him here felt good. Being this domestic with bim felt good. Being with him feels good.

We had breakfast in silence, reading things on our phones, showing memes to each other. And the moment I washed the dishes, my mind realized that the next place I will go is to his parents house. And somehow, I started to panic.

“Lando?” I called him.

“Yeah?” he smiled walking towards me. “Hey, you okay?”

“I… I'm going to your parents house” I said looking at him. “Like… I mean, I know them. I met them during your races and that. But… this is a completely different situation! I'm going there for Christmas”

“Yeah, so what?” he frowned, confused.

“You are bringing a girl!” I said. “A-and, well…”

“We're a soon to be couple, right?” he said, holding my hands. “It's completely fine, I promise. They knew about my feelings towards you, and somehow I told them that we have been working on it since the ski trip. It's okay, Violet. Really. Don't worry about it”

“But then I have to make a good impression, Lando” I said. “Like… What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm not enough?”

“Hey” he smiled, cupping my cheeks. “They love you, yeah? Everything will be okay. Take a deep breath”

I sigh and nod, looking at him. In my previous relationships, meeting the parents was hard. They all had something bad to say about me: I wasn't as skinny as they would have liked, his ex was better, I don't have enough status for him. I know Lando's parents, I met them a few times as well as his siblings, but somehow it didn't feel the same as now meeting them as someone that is more than a friend for Lando. What am I supposed to answer when they ask what we are? We're not a couple, I don't want to rush things. We are friends, yeah, but friends that sleep together in the same bed and act like a couple all the hours of the day.

“It will be okay” he said, kissing my forehead. “And now, go get dressed”

I sighed and nodded, going to my bedroom followed by him and we got changed. I felt his eyes on my back while I took off my clothes, making me blush. He never saw me fully naked, only in a bikini, neither that last day in the snow when we thought we were going to have sex.

“I'll turn around if you feel uncomfortable” Lando said when he saw I stopped undressing myself.

“Stop being perfect” I joked when his back was facing me, throwing him the shirt I was wearing, actually his shirt. “You can look”

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Violet” he said.

I smiled and walked towards him, hugging him. I pressed my body into his back, my hands on his abdomen. I trust him, I really do.

And I love him for that.

I felt him take a deep breath when he noticed that I wasn't wearing a bra and kissed his shoulder. He relaxed in my arms, letting out the breath he was holding.

“I know I'm not perfect” I whispered. “That I don't go to the gym and have a healthy diet, that I'm not fit like a model. I know that I don't have a body worthy of a fashion show. But I am how I am”

“Don't change” he said. “Never change. I love you how you are. You are perfect, Violet. I don't care if you are not a model. In my eyes, you are a goddess, can't you see?”

I smile and unwrap my arms from his body, letting him turn around and not caring when his eyes look at my body, scanning every curve of my anatomy.

“You are perfect” he smiled, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I smile and wrap my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and letting him hold me. I know this is not the moment, this is not the time to have our first time, but the fact that I took a step forward to start this relationship, made me happy.

“You are my favorite person, Violet” he whispered.

“And you are mine” I whisper back.

And somehow, that felt like saying that I love him.

Going to my parents house was a road trip of two hours and a half. Two hours of driving my car with Violet next to me, letting me hold her hand or place my hand on her thigh.

Taking her to my parents house was something I always wanted to do. They knew about my feelings for her since the moment I realized I had them, and now that she is finally with me, I just wanted to introduce her to them.

We are not a couple yet, and I don't know when I will ask her to be mine. But what we have right now is perfect, I don't need anything else.

The present I gave her was something I knew she would love. She only travels when she's invited to our trips, she always said that it's her first time in a place when we arrive there. And I wanted to change it. I want to show her the world, to make her see in real life all the art she studies, to let her see in real life that thing she only sees in museums or on the internet.

“What did you buy for your family?” she asked me.

“Correct, we bought” I smirked “For my parents and Savannah and Oliver, one of those SmartBox for a spa weekend. For my younger sister a set of jewelry and for my sister Flo a new helmet that will have the same design of the one I'll have next year”

“Oh! That's nice!” she smiled. “I bought Athena and Mila some things from the store of the museum like a book with drawings of the paintings and then some little toys for them”

“See? You do the job of auntie pretty well, hm?” I joked, making her doll her eyes and laugh softly. “I'm serious!”

“You are lucky I love Mila and Athena” she said, and somehow when she started talking I had a little heart attack.

I told her that I love her, I never stop telling her. And it's not that I want to hear it immediately, but the way she acts around me makes me think that she in fact has those type of feelings for me.

But… is this fair? I planned everything, I wanted to confess my feelings during the trip, but I never expected it to turn out the way it did. I never expected it to work, to have her with me in my car or sleep with her in her bed, to kiss her whenever I wanted and hold her in my arms. Somehow, this felt like a dream. Too good to be true. But if this was a dream I don't want to wake up, never.

When I parked the car next to my brother's I looked at her, holding her hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah… I think so, yeah” she nodded. “Do they know that I'm going?”

“Oh yeah” I nodded. “My mom even made your favorite dish”

“Really? No way!” she gasped.

I chuckled and nodded, opening the door and going to the back of her car to grab the bags of the presents. She helped me, holding the smaller bags with one hand.

“Let's go” I smiled, kissing her temple.

She was perfect. The moment we walked inside the house and she took a deep breath, I could feel how she immediately relaxed. My mother welcomed us, and the moment she saw Violet next to me, her smile grew wider.

“Oh, Violet! It's so nice to see you” she smiled, hugging her, winking at me.

“Merry Christmas” she smiled, hugging her back.

I walked towards them and smiled, watching how my mom unwrapped her arms from Violet and imme hugged me.

“You deserve this” she whispered. “My good boy”

I chuckled softly and kissed her cheek, hugging her tightly. My sisters and dad came towards us and we all went to the living room, where my brother was already with his wife and his kids.

“Oh, hey!” Oliver smiled, standing up with Athena in his arms.

“Baby Athena!” I heard Violet giggle, talking with the high pitched voice she always used when she was around my nieces. “Hello, baby girl!”

I smiled when Oliver looked at me surprised, letting Violet hold his younger daughter. I smile hugging him, patting his back and pulling away just to look at Violet holding Athena close to her.

God, is it too soon to talk about babies? It is, right?

My family welcomed her as she has been here since forever, and I was so grateful for that. My sisters included her in their conversations, even my mom let her help clean the dishes instead of making her stay sitting like she was a special guest. And watching her getting involved with them, filing and talking with them, made me fall even harder for her.

“I really think she's the one” I told Oliver, sitting on the couch, watching how Violet played with Mila and Athena. “Every fight and argument with Harry were worth it. I fought for her”

“And I'm so proud of you for never giving up on her” he smiled. “When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?”

“O-oh, well…” I smile, biting my lip, grabbing my phone and showing him my screen. “I kinda have it planned”

“Of course you do” he laughed softly, hitting my arm.

I smiled looking again at Violet, getting up and walking towards her when she smiled at me, sitting on the floor next to her and playing with Mila.

She's the love of my life. I would do anything to make her happy.

We spent the rest of the day with his family, and it felt good, amazing. The way they welcomed me and never judged me was so heartwhelming.

Athena and Mila insisted on being around me. The older little girl held my hand all the time, leading me wherever she wanted to go with her, showing me all her toys and books her parents brought, making me sit on the floor with her between my legs.

I liked this. I liked being treated this way, like another one of the family.

Lando's sisters talked with me like we were friends. Savannah trusted me enough to hold her daughters and have her younger one sleeping in my arms. Lando's mom asked about my work and studies like a mother, getting interested in whatever I said. Even his dad and brother got in the conversation, asking about my job in the museum and when they can go to visit me.

Is this how it feels being in a healthy family? One that doesn’t judge you, that thinks they know what's better for you?

“Well, I think we should go back to London” Lando said, looking at his wrist watch, stretching his arms and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Oh! Why don't you stay the night?” his mom said with a big smile, clapping her hands happily. “In that way you two can rest and go back there in the morning”

“Mom, she has to work tomorrow…” he smiled weakly looking at me.

“It's okay” I said smiling, placing my hand on Lando's knee. “We can stay”

“Are you sure?” he whispered looking at me.

“Mhm, yeah” I smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay, then” his mom smiled. “Lando's room is clean and the bed is made too. You can sleep there”

I smile and nod, leaning on him and wrapping my arm around his torso. I relaxed in his arms, taking a deep breath and looking at the fire dancing in the fireplace. His fingers played with my hair softly, making me cuddle him and rest my head on his chest.

“Do you want to go to bed?” he whispered, kissing the top of my head and I nodded my head.

He got up and held my hand, pulling me to him. We hugged his parents and siblings good night and then walked towards his room.

“This is my childhood room” he laughed softly. “Obviously reformed”

I chuckled and looked around while he grabbed a shirt for me to sleep on it. He walked towards me, wrapping his arms around my abdomen, pulling me close to him.

“Today was perfect” I smiled, turning around to wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you”

“I’m glad” he whispered, leaning closer to mez resting his forehead against mine. “Because this, Violet…This is what I want for you, for us. A healthy environment, a healthy family. People that support you and won't judge you”

I smiled and nodded, kissing him softly, holding him tightly against me. We got undressed slowly, taking off our clothes and leaving them on the floor, not wanting to pull away.

“I don't think it's a good idea doing this with my parents around” he whispered, taking a deep breath when we stood naked in the middle of his room, only wearing underwear.

“Then we won't do it” I whisper. “But we can just get in the bed, feel each other's body and kiss, right?”

“Oh yeah, please” he chuckled, jumping on the bed and opening his arms for me. “Come here”

“Silly” I chuckled, crawling towards him and kissing his lips, feeling his hands over my body and pulling me close to him.

violetsinclair

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, savnorris and 698 others

violetsinclair I think I like this little life🧡

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pietra.pilao that little life suits you very well

violetsinclair I think so, yeah🥰🧡

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, oscarpiastri and 258.735 others

landonorris This little life

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maxfewtrell I think Athena has a new favorite person

landonorris for once I don't mind

oscarpiastri when are you bringing her to the garage?👀

landonorris who? Athena? She's too young for that😌

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia

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charlottecutepie · 13 days

Note

hi Lizzy, sorry to bother you but can I request for a Henry X reader? My man lacks content about him :(( it can be about anything I don't mindd

⋆୨♡୧⋆ Henry Emily x fem!reader smut blurb

author note: thank u for this request love! don't know why but breeding kink + size kink is henry, also him having a dad bod is canon for me. also important: the way i imagine henry is by @kcokaine_ on twitter

tags: nsfw, smut, vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, size kink, softdom!henry, jealous!henry, but he tries to hide it, william is an asshole, public sex, breeding kink, missionary, established relationship, Henry’s dilf bc i said so

William has no shame, Henry realized that a long time ago. Especially when he found out that William was cheating on his wife. William doesn't have a shred of damn shame when he lets himself touch you. When he literally fucks you with his eyes. When he tries to give you fucking compliments. Henry rarely experiences such feelings of anger and jealousy. Henry hates himself for his gentle nature and for not being able to punch his friend right into his face. Especially when the pizzeria hall is full of children and their parents as they have no idea what a disgusting asshole William is.

Of course, Henry could have waited until he got home and made love to you there, fucking you so good that you'd have forgotten William's name. But there's always a but. Today Henry wants William to know that you don't need anyone's else's cock but his.

When Henry warned you that his hands were big enough, you just laughed and softly pushed him into his broad chest, that was a joke, right?

But you're not laughing when you feel how true his words turned out to be. Not just the hands, but in fact the whole Henry. His physique is far from athletic, this man isn’t so young anymore and doesn't really keeps his figure, but damn, these muscles that reminds so much of his youth, dad bod, wide shoulders and his damn tall height, you're nearly whining. Now you realise what he was talking about (or warning?), there's only one of his fingers inside you, but it feels like all three. You're wet, incredibly horny and dripping, but it doesn't make it any easier. Henry looks into your eyes, and then his gaze falls on your pussy taking his finger. He frowns, he doesn't want to take out his anger and jealousy on you at all, he just can't do this to you, he loves you too much, so he tries to do everything gently and slowly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper to him, your eyes filled with nothing but desire. Henry looks up at you and then crushes his lips on yours, as if he's been waiting for these words all his life. He kisses you softly and sensually, with all his love and affection he have for you, for his girl. Without taking his mouth off yours, he adds another finger and you pull away to make a loud moan, but Henry literally shuts you up with his palm.

“Remember you can't be loud, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead as he thrusts his large fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. “you can take it.” his low and dominant, but soft tone as he speaks quietly only arouses you more.

You desperately nod and he puts his hand off you, now holding one of your legs open to prevent you from closing them. All this time he stares into your eyes, watching your face and reaction. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you shiver. Henry curls them slightly, rubbing against your soft spots until you moan, pressing yourself against his hand shamelessly. “Henryyy—” you whine, your pussy clenches around his finger, so fucking wet and responsive.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, pulling his finger out with a wet sound and rubs your swollen clit. You moan again, arching your hips towards him, begging for more contact. “need to taste you, princess.” he says raspingly, pressing his finger on your little bud.

He kisses the inside of your thigh softly, making his way slowly towards your core. You whimper as you feel his tongue on your clit, your legs twitch in pleasure. Henry holds you firmly as he eats you out, he's kissing and circling your sensitive bundle with his tongue. It feels too divine, too fucking good and you can't hold your loud noises, biting your own hand. “Ohh, please—” you cry out as he buries his face deeper into your needy pussy.

You're trembling as your hand grips the edge of the desk tightly, mouth open as you pant heavily, trying your best not to scream. He greedily laps at your slit, sliding his tongue all over your aching hole as it clenches around nothing, but Henry makes sure to fill it with his finger and it makes you see stars. He hums into your pussy, sucking on your clit and thrusting his finger in and out of you. You arch and shiver pathetically, your brows furrowed as your face confronted in pure bliss. Henry fingers you slowly, making sure to prepare and stretch you out perfectly for his cock. Every lick sends ripples of sensation throughout your core, he knows damn well how to make his girl feel good.

“Tha-that feels so good, anngh. . .” you bite your lower lip till nearly blood as Henry makes out with your pussy, so fucking messy, but he looks like he's too drunk to care about you trying to push his head away from overwhelming pleasure. “waittt!” you feel so close, especially when he finger fucks you so slow and gently while pleasuring you with his tongue. “'m gonna cum, Hen—. . . Fuck!” Henry groans, pulling away only for some seconds just to spit on your sloppy cunt before attacking it with kisses again. You taste too sweet.

“Cum on my face, sweetheart,” he murmurs, incoherent as he never really stops eating you out. “be my good girl.” for a moment he flashes you a small smile and you almost whine from how hot he looks, his chin cowered in your slick and hair messy. You smile weakly in return and when he thrusts his finger deeper adding to that sloppy lick on your clit, you feel your orgasm approach you. You moan and you don't give a fuck how loud that sounds, but in secret Henry is damn happy as you let that fucking William know how good your man makes you feel.

Your head spinning as you breathe heavily, chest rising up and down when Henry looks at you with drunk face expression. He stands up and takes your face into his hands, giving you more possessive than soft kiss now, letting you taste yourself. That's filthy, too much, Henry isn't like that in other people's eyes. Only for you.

He trails his kisses down your neck and finally reaches your breasts, he kisses both, touch them and fondle them and groans at how perfectly they look in his big hands. Henry sucks on your nipples, all this time fucking your dripping pussy with his fingers, never wanting to hurt you with his size, he knows you're a big girl and you'll take him, but he prefers to avoid any kind of pain. He tries to relax you to maximum. But what he doesn't know is that you're already too needy and hungry for him, wanting something more than just his fingers.

“My sweet girl.” he calls you while he holds you by the waist and slides his cock all over your hole, his head full of thoughts of these freak stares William gave you this evening. He's soft and sweet with you, reminding you of a fluffy teddy bear, but what happens inside his head and how blood boils in his veins from insane jealousy - that's what you don't see and Henry thinks it's for the best, he'll never show that side to you. “so wet for me, want to feel that cock stretching this tiny pussy?” he literally goes feral at the thought of his cock filling you.

“Please, Henry, i need you,” you look into his eyes and your pathetic sight does something to him. Henry gets himself comfortable between your legs, he caresses your cheek as he can't stop looking at how pretty his leaking tip looks rubbing on your clit. He knows he must be gentle and he tries his fucking best.

Henry starts sliding inside you, all this time holding your waist and watching your face for any signs of pain. “Doing so well for me, sweetheart, just like that.” your eyes widen at unexpected feeling, it's not like you two never had sex, but every time he's inside it feels like new. You think you'll never get used to his size. You look at his dick filling you and your pussy clenches down around him as he buries himself deep inside you. Closing your eyes, you try to accommodate to that thickness inside you but not when you feel his thumb making its way to your nub. Henry rubs his thumb in slow, circular motions on your swollen clit as he continues filling your tight cunt. You moan softly beneath him; reaching to lay your hand on his, which working on your clit, while letting out a contented sigh. You two fall into a slow rhythm, each thrust drawing you deeper into your passion.

“Auhh— your so deep inside of me,” you throw your head back, whimpering loudly as every inch of Henry stretches your soppy pussy. Henry thrusts a little bit harder and your breasts bounce slightly which seems like a sweet invitation to him. He presses his lips to your nipple and pulls it, and then licks and sucks, groaning how good you feel.

“This little pussy taking me so well, you're such a good girl, honey,” Henry mutters as he starts thrusting a bit faster.

You throw your leg around him, pulling him deeper into yourself as you cry out for more; wanting to feel every inch and vein of his cock. He hides his face in your chest as he groans at your warmness and wetness around him, your juices making the most beautiful wet sounds as your bodies slap against each other.

“You feel so—” you choke on your own moans as Henry pumps his thick cock faster, you feel him twitching and throbbing inside of you. “awhhh fuck!”

“Just like that, princess,” his lips finds yours in hot kiss again, your eyes flutter closed. “look at you, taking me so well, all pretty and full of my cock. That's where your meant to be, honey, under your man, ughhh, being fucked nice and good. This little pussy, ogghh fuck!” his voice breaks into a loud moan when your cunt tightens once again at his dirty words. “this little pussy belongs to me.”

Your lovely eyes filled with sweet tears of pleasure. “love you, i— awhh, i love you, daddy!” Henry is used to you calling him that when you fuck, although you rarely do because you're still shy. But what you don't know is what effect that word has on him. He's literally going insane, and thank god Henry knows how to control himself, otherwise your pussy would be absolutely ruined right now. Henry doesn't know what he found in that word. Apparently, it still awakens something in him. No, of course, he loves his daughter very much, the only one, he cherishes her. Whenever he sees how much you care about her, he gets some. . . obsessive thoughts. But it feels so fucking right; the idea of expanding your family, watching you blossom into a mother. Would he like to give Charlie a brother or a sister?

Would he like to make you a mom?

Henry gets so lost in his dreams and fantasies that he doesn't even notice his crazy pace and your hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you look so beautiful it drives him crazy. You wrap your hands around his neck and bring his face closer, kissing him again. Kissing him like it's the last time. You hold him close to you and when Henry pulls away to moan again because of how amazing you feel, you press your lips against his forehead and give him soft kisses, asking him to go harder on you. Henry doesn't listen to you, you don't know what you're asking for. If he'll go harder on you. . . Henry sighs, slowing his thrusts. You don't wanna know what'll happen.

Your tight soft walls grip his cock as he bullies your insides, his hand moves down again and he circles your clit nicely and gentle. You rock your hips back and forth faster, desperate to cum, to feel him finishing inside you. Because Henry always pulled out before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tip reaches your cervix and you feel close, so fucking close especially with how he stimulates you using his fingers, rubbing and flicking your little clit. “dont p-pull out,” your tone nearly sounds like an order as you feel Henry ready to pull out. He freezes in place and looks at you, breathing heavily, confusion on his face. “want you to cum inside—” you barely finish your words as he plunges deep inside your pussy much rougher and harder than before, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

If he'll cum inside you, if he’ll get you pregnant, William will definitely notice it. He'll see that you're carrying Henry's baby under your heart. Henry thinks, what will be the reaction of everyone's beloved Mr. Afton? Anger, jealousy? Perhaps envy? William has such an envious nature. Henry's smiling, William has always been jealous of him. Henry have the best daughter in the world, the best girlfriend- almost a wife? Henry always takes the best.

“I'm close, sweetheart,” he tells you, his cock sinking deeper inside you and his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs, his thrusts messy, meanwhile you squirm and moan underneath him.

“Breed me— Ahhng, Henry, breed me!” you beg him and and that's the end for him, Henry fucking whimpers. His eyes squeezed shut, his body shaking and he can't control his loud groans as he spills deep inside of you. It feels too good to stop thrusting inside your cunt as he overstimulates both of you, you cumming on his cock while he fills you up, pumping you full of his cum. You grab on him when he pulls out a little. Watching his cum drip out of your little hole, he sighs and fucks it back in, not wanting any drop of him to ooze out of you.

“You're such a good girl, princess. . .” he whispers, kissing your nipples and holding you in his big hands. If Henry was a dirty pervert like William, he'd send you to William right now so he could fucking see his best friend's cum trickling down the inner side of your thighs. But Henry isn't like William and there's no way he'd do that to you. Probably only in his dirtiest and darkest fantasies.

#henry emily x reader #henry emily smut #henry emily #fnaf smut #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf imagine #william afton x reader

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fairlyang · 4 months

Text

Starstruck 🕷️

in which miguel is a famous singer that bumped into you, you only knowing who he is because your sister is in love with him

w/c: 11.4K

pairing:famous!miguel x latina!reader

tags: you despise his ass so bad, your sister is a borderline stalker, she makes you tag along to find him, he accidentally knocks you out, 18+ smut. journey starts after that, you forcibly follow him around, change of heart, making out, fingering

notes: this is one of my personal favs bc I loved starstruck the movie by disney sm, just made it mexican/latine 🫶🏼

"I just love Miguel O'Hara." I heard my sister say when I walked into the living room, staring dreamily at the tv.

I widened my eyes and felt one of them twitch, is this girl serious? Again?

I rolled my eyes and walked in front of the tv standing there on purpose, earning myself an immediate yell and groan, "Y/n!!!"

"Oh perdón Saraí, am I blocking your view of what's his name?" I say and give her a fake pout as her face distorts in pure annoyance. Score. (Sorry)

"Mhmm," she mumbles with a nod and continues, "Entonces muévete o yo te muevo hermanita." she warns and I just roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen. (So move or I'll move you little sister)

Just then our parents walk in, my dad with our suitcases and my mom with some laundry she'd just done. "Ya agarren sus maletas." My dad said making me sigh. (Come grab your suitcases)

"Vengan agarrar su ropa para empacar." My mom calls out placing the laundry basket next to Saraí. (Come grab your clothes to pack)

"Nos vamos al aeropuerto mañana después de que salgan de sus clases." She adds making Saraí squeal, hurting my poor ears. (We're leaving to the airport tomorrow after you guys get out of your classes)

I open the fridge and take out the carton of orange juice, placing it on the counter then walking over and open the cabinet, grabbing a glass. I freeze watching Saraí take out my clothes and make faces at them. This girl-

"In less than twenty-four hours I'll be in California where Miguel lives!!!" She says excitedly making me raise an eyebrow.

I walk back to the counter and pour myself a glass. I take a sip while Saraí just keeps going, "what if he picks me up at the airport-"

I burst out laughing, the juice immediately spilling all over the place while I quickly shut my mouth and wipe the remnants off the side of my face. "Bitch why the fuck would he do that?!?" I say after calming down still giggling to myself.

She quickly turns to me and glares, "I'm like his number one fan, I follow all his accounts, listen to every single song and keep track of everything he's doing on his blog." I blink at how absolutely insane my sister sounds when she adds, "Te aseguró, el me quiere conocer." (I assure you, he wants to meet me)

Just then my mom walks in behind me and I turn to her desperately, "ya es muy tarde para ser la única hija?" (Is it too late to be the only daughter?)

"Si." She says not even turning to look at me. (Yes)

"Entonces por favor me puedo quedar?" I plead and she finally looks up from her phone. (So can I please stay home)

"No."

"Porque?" (Why?)

"Porque tu abuela no te ha visto en dos años y estás son tus vacaciones." She says and brings a hand up to my cheek.

My dad walks in and chuckles at my sad state, "y que jovencita va reclamar de ir a California?" He says and laughs. (And what young woman is going to complain about going to California?)

I sigh and shake my head, "pero tiene que ser con ella." (but it has to be with her)

Suddenly Saraí shushes all of us and leans in, her eyes wide as she turns the volume up on the Mexican news channel talking about this man.

I walk behind her and cross my arms against the chest watching the fucking news segment this dude got after getting awards at the Latin American Music Awards. There he was carrying four awards in his arms as he was giving a speech on the red carpet.

"Les quiero decir muchas gracias a los fans que me han apoyado durante toda mi carrera, los amo mucho." He says and shines a bright smile directly into the camera. (I just wanna say thank you to all the fans that have supported me throughout my whole career, I love you so much)

"Es tan increíble." Sara sighs and smiles up at the tv. (He's so incredible)

"Definitivamente no es increíble." I say and shake my head. (He definitely is not incredible)

"Um claro que si lo es, y si tu lo conocías como yo lo conozco, no dirías eso." She says turning her head to look at me. (Um of course he is, and if you knew him like I knew him, you wouldn't say that)

"Estas loca? Vivimos en Michigan, tu no lo conoces." I spit out and roll my eyes. This bitch is crazy. (Are you crazy? We live in Michigan, you do not know him)

"Pero lo se, yo sé todo sobre el." She says facing back to the tv. (But I do know, I know everything about him)

"I know where he works, eats, shops, surfs, and parties." She says and sinks into the couch.

I groan and walk out of the living room heading to my room, she's going to be so insufferable.

It was the next day and I was stood by Saraí and her friend, Lina as I was telling her about going to the campus-wide dance one of the fraternities was holding soon. She laughed in my face and shook her head, "No estas invitada hermana." (You're not invited sister)

"Como que no- it's a campus-wide dance." I say and roll my eyes. (What do you mean-)

"Y tu no bailas- qué vergüenza." She says and elbows Lina. (And you don't dance- how embarrassing)

"You won't have to worry about that, I'll just be there to write for the school newspaper..." I tell her and roll my eyes.

"Oh..." She says and I chuckle. Bet she feels somewhat bad now.

"Oh vas a llevar tu cámara contigo a California?" Lina asks and Saraí turns her attention to her. (Oh are you gonna take your camera with you to California?)

"Lina, por supuesto que me lo voy a llevar." She says and grins. (Of course I'm going to take it)

"Porque todavía necesitamos más fotos de Miguel...." Lina says taking out a fucking scrapbook with a picture of said man and I feel my eye twitching again. (Because we still need more pictures of Miguel...)

Are all the girls insane???

"Hablando, caminando, cantando, bailando, moviéndose, respirando... todo posible." She adds and I was just dumbfounded. (Talking, walking, singing, dancing, moving, breathing. Anything possible)

They are insane.

"Porque están tan obsesionadas con este tipo?" I ask and they both immediately turned to look at me in disgust. (Why are you both so obsessed with this guy?)

"Este tipo?!?!" Lina exclaims, her eyebrows knitted in a deep cut glare at me. (This guy?!?!)

"Mhm. Ahora ves con que vivo." Saraí retorts and rolls her eyes at me. (Now you see with what I have I live with)

"Pobre de ti." Lina mutters making me laugh. (Poor you)

Saraí turns to me and gives me a smile, "Hermanita cuando estemos en California, tu puedes jugar lotería con abuela, pero yo voy a conocer a Miguel O'Hara." (Little sister when we're in California, you can play bingo with grandma, but I'm going to meet Miguel O'Hara.)

"Y cómo estás planeando hacer eso?" I ask and chuckle. (And how are you planning on doing that?)

Suddenly Lina opens the scrapbook and in the first pages is filled with notes, scribbles, hearts. "Pues hemos trazado cada uno de sus movimientos durante los últimos dieciocho meses." She says, acting as if this isn't the most psychotic thing ever imaginable. (Well we've traced every one of his movements for the past eighteen months)

"Yo sé cuándo y dónde es probable que esté cada segundo de cada día." Saraí says too casually. (I know when and where he's likely to be every second of every day)

"About the time we'll be leaving for LA, he'll be having his daily meeting with his managers." She says and they both sigh looking off into the distance. Freaks.

"Do not fucking tell me you brought homework to California-" Saraí says looking at me dumb-smacked.

"No- I am reading, you should try it some time." I tell her and snort.

"I read-"

"These-" I start and turn behind me to grab one of her hundreds of magazines, "are fucking pictures, this doesn't count."

She gasps and quickly smacks my hand away, grabbing her magazine back. She gives me a glare and then looks out to the parking lot, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. "Why are they dragging ass-"

"Ugh just get me a car so I can go meet Miguel O'Hara!!" She squeals and I look behind her and shrug.

"You can't drive." I say and she scoffs.

"Yes I can, I have my license dumbass." She snorts and I shake my head.

"No you can't, sign!" I say and point behind her.

She turns around and reads the sign that says you have to be at least 25 to rent a car from the specific rental we were by. And so sad she barely turned 23 a few months ago.... "What?"

"How am I meant to go out and about-"

"Y hacer que?" My dad asks, as he and my mom walk towards us. (And do what?)

"Llevar a mi hermanita de turismo!!" She says and quickly walks over to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. (Take my little sister sightseeing!!)

"Creo que tu abuela tiene un carro que te puede prestar." He says and she lets go of me and sighs. (I think your grandma has a car you can borrow)

"Gracias a Dios." She mutters making me snicker. (Thank god)

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We arrived at my grandma's house and right as my dad parked my mom took off her seat left and got out of the car because grandma was on step stools cutting off leaves off a hedge which of course put mom on edge.

We all followed with her besides Saraí staying in the car, and grandma came down with the help of a man we haven't seen before. "Mija cálmate estoy bien-" (calm down I'm okay)

My mom stood behind her watching her as the man helped her down, "Héctor me estaba ayudando!" She says with a wide smile as she gives my mom a hug. (Héctor was helping me!)

When grandma pulled away my mom just gave her a look and she just innocently smiled then went on to give my dad a hug. I walk over to her and immediately go in for a hug, "Abuela te extrañe!!" I say and squeeze her gently. (Grandma I missed you!)

She hugs me back then pulls away bringing a hand up to my cheek, lightly pinching. "Yo también te extrañe mi angelita." She says and grins. (I missed you too my little angel)

She then turns to Saraí admiring grandma's 2012 baby pink Volkswagen Beetle. "Saraí la puedes usar cuando gustes." Grandma tells her making Saraí just nervously laugh. (You can use her whenever you'd like)

"No me van a encontrar muerta en esta cosa-" she says and groans, almost throwing a hissy fit. (You wont catch me dead in this thing)

"Entonces nos vas acompañar a jugar lotería?" I joke and she glared at me but it had grandma giggling. (So does that mean you'll be joining us to play bingo?)

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I walked into the room Saraí was sleeping in because grandma was saying she was pacing too much. "Abue dice que te calmes, que vas hacer un agujero en el piso." I say and she stops to look at me with crazy eyes. (Grandma says to calm down, that you're gonna make a hole on the floor)

"I just got off the phone with Lina who saw a tweet about a blog account who got a text about Miguel O'Hara. He's singing at Lyla's birthday party. I have to go-" she rants and I blink. Who the fuck is Lyla- actually it's better I don't ask...

"Good luck convincing mom and dad." I say and walk away from her doorway.

"Come with me." She says and I turn back around.

I scoff and shake my head, leaning against the doorway staring at her not a slightest bit shocked. "No."

"Si tu vas conmigo me van a dejar ir!!" She says and and I roll my eyes. (If you go with me they'll let me go!!)

"Y yo para que quiero ir-" I say then stop, "ya me hartaste de tu mentado Miguel O'Hara-" (And why would I wanna go? You've made me tired of your mentioned Miguel O'Hara-)

"I'll shut up."

"What?"

"If you come with me and I meet Miguel, I'll shut up about him.... For the rest of our trip." She pleads and I bite my lip.

"Mejor por el resto de tu vida." I mutter and she looks at me expectantly. (better yet for the rest of your life)

"Please."

"Fine."

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She drove us down to apparently some popular club Miguel was at and I really couldn't believe my older sister had stalker tendencies like this. It was absurd.

But not as absurd as fucking parking where it clearly says no parking zone. "Dude can you really not read??!?" I ask and she waved me off as she slipped out of the drivers seat and into the back to change.

"It's fine. If one person is in the car it isn't even parking it's just waiting." She says and I roll my eyes.

"Just get behind the wheel!!" She demands and i scoff.

I do so anyway and carefully maneuver to the drivers seat while she's singing to a song on the radio. God her not talking about him for the rest of the trip is not going to be enough-

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We hear a loud car engine and she quickly popped up from the back seat and looked over to the entrance. She gasps and quickly straps her heel on. "It's him!"

She quickly opens the door and gets out slamming it shut before opening it up again and peeps her head through. "Just stay here! Don't move a muscle." She says blowing me a kiss then slams the door shut again.

I hear her squeal and watch as she walks across the street to the front of the club. She walks over to some guy kissing his cheeks then poses for some cameras. Oh god-

I slap my hand over my forehead cringing at the sight then see as she tugs him away inside, but she didn't even have to wait in line so maybe this won't take so long....

A brunette following close behind them with an annoyed look on her face. I sigh and turn my body towards the steering wheel and changing the radio stations to not have to hear that man's voice.

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I look down at my phone and realize it's midnight and I've been sitting here waiting like a fucking fool for half an hour. I groan and grab my bag, I turn the car off and take the keys out. I open the door and get out, gently closing the door then lock it. I'll just quickly find her and we can go back home.

I get to the sidewalk and swing my bag over my shoulder as I make my way to the stoplight. I walk over to the street where the club was and mentally wish I hadn't agreed to this. The line was so long.

I get to the street where the back of the line was and roll my eyes. There has to be another entrance.

I make my way past the people and walk towards an alleyway right next to the club. Surely there's another entrance here.

I walk in the middle of the alley my eyes searching for a door when I finally spot one. I go to open it when the door hits me and I fall back onto my ass. "Fuck-" I groan and hold onto my head.

"Did I just hit you?" A voice asks and I roll my eyes.

"Nahhh the door hit me by itself." I respond sarcastically and roll my eyes.

"This is not good." The guy muttered and i scoff.

"For you or for me? Because right now this feels worse for me." I snap and rub my head slowly. Shit, that was gonna leave a mark.

"This is really not good." He mutters making me furrow my eyes in confusion.

Then the realization hit.

"Wait...."

"You're Mig-" I start then a hand is covering my mouth before I can even finish.

"I will give you merch and tickets to my next concert if you don't scream my name-"

I shove his hand away from me and scoff. "I don't want any of that shit-"

He lifts his hands up in defense and cocks an eyebrow up. "Okay.. I need to get you to a doctor...." He mumbled just then we hear a car engine and he carefully helps me up.

He then goes down and grabs my phone and keys before grabbing my hand. "What about Saraí-" I mumble and widen my eyes realizing I just left her.

"Whose Saraí?"

"My sister- she's in the club." I say and curse under my breath. She's gonna be so mad.

He holds my hand and leads me towards the car where a man gets out of the car and walks over to us, "Miguel what did you do-"

"Just help now and I'll tell you later Peter." Miguel tells Peter and lets me go.

Peter puts his hand behind my back leading me to the passenger seat and helps me inside the car. He leans down to look at Miguel and I just look back and forth between both men. "Who is this?" Peter asks confused wanting some kind of clarity.

"Seatbelt." Miguel looks to me and Peter hands it to me while Miguel places my things on my lap.

"Y/n." I say and take the seatbelt and buckle it.

"Pues mucho gusto conocerte." He says and I roll my eyes. (Well nice to meet you)

"Ningún gusto para mi." I mutter and Peter snickers to my right. This white man understands Spanish? (It's not nice for me)

I look at Miguel and he just gives me a smile, his teeth were a bit crooked but very white. The crookedness was kinda cute-

Wait- what the fuck am I thinking?!

Then I feel my stomach gurgle and I widen my eyes, "I don't feel too good..."

"Don't puke on May I just got her fixed up!!" Peter says and I nod.

"Okay." I mumble then lean over to the side and puke my guts out.

After my stomach was emptied my throat felt so patchy and disgusting and I sat back up onto the seat and leaned against the head rest. "Not my favorite converse!!!" Peter groans and I feel bad but physically feel off.

"I'll get you new ones- close the door-" Miguel says and Peter complains some more but closes the door.

"Keys." He says and I hand them to him.

"Make sure her sister Saraí get home okay." Miguel tells Peter and hands him the keys to my grandma's car. Oh fuck-

"Don't tell anyone about this." He tells him and Peter waves him off look down at the mess on his shoes.

"What's she look like? What's she wearing?" He asks and I cough.

"Uhh like an older version of me... except with dark red hair and she's wearing a.... Mm oh dark purple dress." I say almost forgetting what she wore as if she wasn't making me look at every outfit she wanted to wear.

"What did she dress up as Starfire on purpose?" He joked and I chuckle.

"I should've made her wear green instead for Poison Ivy-" I say letting out a laugh then Miguel interrupts and turns the car on.

"Just find her and make sure she gets home, please." He tells Peter and then drives away.

We got to a nearby hospital unseen which I guess was good for Miguel. I was sat in a bed looking at a light the doctor was making me follow. I looked at it left and right then she pulled away. "The scans came out fine and you look good to go." She says and gives me a smile.

"So she's okay?" Miguel peeps his head through the door and the doctor scolds at him.

"Out."

He closes the door and the doctor proceeds to tell me I don't have a concussion which was a surprise to me considering I was hit on the head with a fucking door.

"Then why'd I throw up?" I ask and the doctor chuckles.

"Maybe something you ate earlier," she says then quickly adds, "or maybe just meeting this latoso." (Annoying fuck)

I laugh then close my mouth when Miguel pops in and glares at the doctor. I mean it shouldn't be normal that a doctor talks shit like this but I couldn't help but find it funny... plus was she really wrong.. "you have to know each other right? No way a doctor would just talk about someone like this." I say and laugh as Miguel walks in with his hands on his hips.

"My brother's wife." Miguel says and smiles.

"So I can go now...."

"Yes just make sure to ice it until you get home." She says and I nod.

She hands me an ice pack, smiles and excuses herself when Miguel's phone rings. And he just lets it ring. "No vas a contestar o que...." (So you're not gonna answer or what....)

Then he walks out leaving the door ajar and answers the call. I sigh and look down at the floor while I leave the ice pack on my head. How did this end up happening to me of all people?

Suddenly I see the doctor come back through the little window on the door and I see her telling Miguel something. That we can't leave because there's guys with cameras in the lobby...

How the fuck does a hospital just let those people come inside......

Then they start talking about a switcharoo and I sigh. This was going to be such a long night.

They ended up doing the swap and we ended up with a rusty car that had us bumping up and down with every movement. And with every time he'd stop, our bodies would move forehead then harshly back. I groaned when my head hit the head rest and Miguel coughs. "It's not so bad..."

"Don't fucking lie." I say and laugh.

"Just listen to the engine it's fucked." I mutter, staying quiet to hear the rumbling.

"We'll be fine." He says and takes a hand off the wheel to wave me off.

Then there's a loud bang, almost sounding like a gunshot making me yell and hit my elbow. "Chingesumadre-" I groan and bite my lip. (Motherfucker)

"Cálmate!" (Calm down)

"No me digas que me calme- ya llévame a mi casa!" I whine and groan. (Don't tell me to calm down- just take me home!)

"Okay!!" I exclaim and smack his arm with my left hand.

"Que te pasa?!?" He yells and I roll my eyes. (What is wrong with you?!?)

"Nomas quiero ir a casa y ya!!" I whine and he groans. (I just wanna go home and that's it!!)

"I'll take you there!!" He says then quietly adds, "soon enough..."

"What are we doing here?!?" I ask and he holds a finger to my lips for a second then grabs my hand leading me up the stairs.

"Oh so now you're hiding me-"

"Yes I am! Do you wanna be tomorrows main event for Univision?!?" He mutters and I groan following him up.

"Well no-"

"Pues para con tus berrinches y sube." He demands but I just comply. (Stop throwing a fit and go up)

We go up like three floors worth of stairs and we finally reach the top, "big ass house." I mutter making him chuckle.

He leads me to a bedroom and opens the door before letting me go inside. I sigh and go in, admiring the tall ceiling, color scheme, and decor for only a few seconds before I turn to look at him. "Be my guest- Ahorita vengo." He says and walks a step back then turns to look at me. (I'll be right back)

"Just stay put." He says and I roll my eyes.

I bring my hands up to my chest and fold my hands as if they're paws, "woof."

He groans and walks away closing the door behind him leaving me alone in this big guest bedroom. I shake my head in disbelief that this is my life and not my sister's. I didn't ask for this.

I sit down on the bed and put the ice pack on the bedside table. I then lay back on the bed, having my feet hang off the bed to not dirty these probably expensive comforter and blankets. I sink my head into the cloud like pillow and sigh.

Left alone with my thoughts I realize he didn't seem like an asshole or like he was acting a certain way for the tabloids, he seemed somewhat normal. Empathic, somewhat funny. And even I couldn't deny how gorgeous he was but with all the nonstop chatter Saraí has blabbed on about him for months on end I didn't wanna hear or see anything about him again.

At least after he takes me home...

He had the prettiest smile and thank god I had the urge to throw up before I let myself melt into his gaze earlier. God that would've been so embarrassing for me.

And his eyes.

Brown eyes but up close and in the light there were specs of light brown. Almost like a pool of honey. So warm and pretty.

Suddenly I hear some cheers and take notice there's a balcony door. I shrug and get up and walk over to it. Might as well.

I open it and walk out to the small patio and look down at what looks to be a party.... With Miguel sitting down in front of the pool playing the guitar. I was high up but because the crowd was so silent I was able to hear his voice clearly.

I mean deep down I knew I liked a few of his songs, hell maybe even had one or two saved in some playlist but actually hearing his voice, singing without a microphone or him wearing ear pieces to hear himself- it was mind blowing how he was able to sound almost identical.

Besides the occasional breeze rattling the trees making it harder for me to hear him. It sounded like he was singing the chorus and I lean against the railing and listen closely.

Love dovey lyrics, soft tone, nice strums of his guitar. Not too bad.

Suddenly he looks up at me and gives me that smile after finish the chorus, I try to ignore the way my stomach was doing flips and give him the smallest smile possible.

He looks away from me and back to the crowd making me let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I calm myself down as his strumming slows down and he hits the final note, instantly earning himself an applause.

I take that as my sign and I walk out of the patio and into the bedroom. I quickly fix the bed then walk out and head towards the stairs. I go down the stairs fast and careful, and after a good minute I made it to the main floor but there's already lots of people all around and mostly by the front door.

I freeze and look to my right to see a side door so I hope for the best and walk towards it. I open the door and slide in unnoticed only to be met with a garage and five different cars. Damn.

I sigh and walk in front of the cars not even sure how I'll get home. Lord this was such a long night-

Suddenly the door opens and I prepare for the worst which it was, being Miguel. God now he's gonna be thinking I was trying to be nosy on purpose...

"A donde vas?" He asks walking in and shutting the door shut behind him. (Where are you going?)

"A la casa? I think I've overcome my stay." I say and shrug. (Home?)

And I really don't want to explain all of this to my family...

"Alright pick a car." He says and motions to his variety of cars.

I scoff and roll my eyes then turn my head to the last car, a red supra. It looked gorgeous.

Well since he was offering...

I hear him laugh and I stride over to the car. I made my way to the passenger seat and I couldn't believe I was going to ride in a car like this... I mean me of all people?

He unlocks the car and I carefully open the door then hop in. The interior was so nice to look at and it even smelled nice, maybe it was new. I'm sure Saraí would know..

He hops in and turns the car on, revving the engine a little making my eyes go wide. Damn.

I didn't know too much about cars but I knew if they looked sexy on the outside and sounded like that then they were definitely good.

He opens the garage and asks me for the address which I happily tell him to get there as fast as possible but he said he wasn't planning on driving fast, which I thought defeated the purpose of practically having a race car but he said it was because he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. So dumb.

As if we weren't riding in a fucking apple.

He drives and we're sat in silence which I didn't mind so I can quickly think of an excuse as to why I abandoned my sister and not the other way around...

And to try to ignore my growing attraction to this man... because why the fuck did he have to look good driving?

I shook my thoughts away and pressed my now melted ice pack on my head, I won't turn out like my sister. I can't.

He turns the radio on and coincidentally one of his songs started playing. And it had to be one that I actually liked...

He hums the lyrics and I just turn my head to look out the window and mouth the words but making sure to not let out any noise. It was a decent song, a duet he sings with another artist that had such a beautiful melody and perfect guitar playing in the background.

Well I couldn't deny how pretty the song actually was, and he had a decent voice too...

But my way of thinking is different from Saraí, she is obsessed with this man and everything about him. But I can appreciate a song or two. To myself. And never out loud because I wouldn't hear the end of it....

We spent the rest of the car ride like that, except whenever a song that wasn't his, I'd actually start to quietly sing to it. I just couldn't bring myself to sing to his knowing deep down it'd be hypocritical of me to.

I finally saw the familiar street of my abuela's house and he pulls up to the driveway. He parks and we sit in silence for a few seconds. "Listen I was just wanted to apologize-"

"No need, it was an accident. It happens I guess." I say and shrug, undoing my seatbelt.

"Now you can go back to your lavish amazing life and I'll go back to mine." I say turning to face him and give him a forced smile.

He sighs and shakes his head, "eres tan difícil." (You're so difficult)

"No te preocupes, no me vas a tener que ver después de esto." I snarl and roll my eyes. (Don't worry, you won't have to see me after this.)

"Thanks for the ride and see you never." I mutter and open the door.

I get out and close the door shut without turning back and walk along the side entrance of the house.

I sigh opening the door and walk straight to the kitchen. I open the fridge and get myself a cold water bottle then open it before chugging half of it down when I hear a knock on the window by the front door.

I sigh and close the water bottle, leaving it by a coffee table before walking on over to the window. I move the curtain and groan, I quietly open the window and feel my eye twitch. "Leave-"

"I will give you five thousand dollars if you can do me a favor." Says the man who I didn't want to see ever again.

"It's not a favor if you're paying for it." I scoff making him grin.

"So you'll do it?" He asks and I roll my eyes.

I open the garage door for him and as soon as his supra can go in he slides in almost making me scold him in case it fell down or something but I kept my mouth shut.

He parks then gets out of the car and walks on over to me, "you'll be gone before the morning, right?" I say and he just chuckles.

"No one will even know I was here." He says and I roll my eyes as I got on a step stool to reach for a blanket.

"I will unfortunately know." I say and hit it on his head making him groan.

"Thanks." He responds sarcastically giving me a face and catches the blanket.

"'Course."

"Is there anything I can wear para que los chismosos no me reconozcan?" He asks and I shrug, lazily pointing to the boxes behind him. (so the annoying paparazzi won't recognize me?)

"You can check inside those." I mutter slowly feeling the tiredness creep in. "But is this really necessary." I add and he just groans.

"You've got no idea." He says then opens the top one, going through whatever is inside until he picks up a black baseball cap that had a small Mexican flag on the side.

I recognize it and frown but then smile at the memories of my grandpa always wearing it when he's mow the lawn, or plant his vegetables. It was his favorite thing in the world and of course had to have his flag on it.

"Era de mi abuelo, siempre se lo ponía cuando arreglaba su jardín." I tell him and look at the hat in his hands. (It was my grandpa's, he'd always wear it when he worked on his garden)

"Oh- perdón-" he murmurs and quickly takes it off but I wave him off. (sorry)

"Esta bien- te queda un poco bien." I reassure and give him a small smile. (It's okay- it fits you kind of good)

My words versus my expression were somewhat contrasting one another but he just chuckles and puts it back on.

"So are you all good?" I ask and he nods.

"I think so." He answers and looks back at his car.

I'm sure he'll be sleeping like a baby in there...

"Alright well goodnight-" I start to say and was about to walk off when he grabs my arm.

"Y/n." I turn to look at him and he starts to smile, I swore his eyes were sparkling-

"Stop doing that." I say and shake my head. I need to stop too..

"Doing what?" He asks making me roll my eyes. He cannot be serious...

"Ya lo sabes- y más seguro se lo haces a todas." I start and then feel myself stuttering as well as feeling nervous. (You know it- and you probably do it to all the girls.)

"Les haces..." I say and motion to his face making him grin, leaning in, "esa cara y expertas que todas se enamoren de ti." (You do... that face and expect all the girls to fall in love with you)

I take a step back and cross my arms against my chest, "pero no va funcionar para mi, entonces vas a tener que soportar." With the final word I walk to the door and press the button to close the garage then walk out. (But it won't work on me so you'll just have to deal with it)

It was the next morning and I had completely forgotten that Miguel slept in my grandmas garage until said grandma told Saraí that the news was doing a story on Miguel.

I rolled my eyes then quickly came to the realization of last nights events and ran to the living room beating her to it. I try to grab the controller until I feel her on top of me and her hands gripping the other half of the controller. "Que te pasa wey- you don't even like him!!!!" She exclaims and I let out fits of coughs to try to be louder than the tv. (What is with you- you don't even like him)

She screams in annoyance and shoves me making me land on the couch. She puts the volume up and excitedly looks at the tv, oh god...

"Lyla llegó a su fiesta de cumpleaños anoche sin su mentado novio. Aunque nadie lo vio llegar al club para la celebración, testigos confirman que Miguel O'Hara hizo una apariencia secreta para cantar para la casa llena de invitados." Says the reporter making me feel sick to my stomach. No one knows. (Lyla arrived to her birthday party without her supposed boyfriend. Although no one saw him arrive at the club for the celebration, witnesses confirm that Miguel O'Hara made a surprise appearance to sing for the full house of invitees)

"Testigos dijeron que el cantante se fue inmediatamente después de cantar una canción, nomás para reaparecer en su mansión de Beverly Hills, horas después, con una diferente chava." My heart drops to my stomach and I suddenly feel nervous and ill. (Witnesses said that the sunder left immediately after singing one song, only to reappear in his mansion on Beverly Hills, hours later, with a different girl)

How the fuck did they know????

My eyes were wide and mouth agape while Saraí next to me was just scoffing and shaking her head. "Mis informantes me dicen que está chava misteriosa tal ves le robó el corazón de nuestro favorito galán musical." I tried my hardest not to gag, especially since mom and abuela were still nearby but god did they really have to exaggerate that much? (My sources/informants fell me that this mystery girl might have stolen the heart of our favorite musical heartthrob)

I then look at Saraí and try to snatch the remote from her again but she yells and tries to get it back. "Que haces?!?" (What are you doing?!?)

"Lo quiero ver!!!" She complains and I just shake my head. (I wanna watch!!)

"Porque? Son puras mentiras y exageran todo posible!!" I say trying not to give myself anyway. (Why? They're all just lies and they exaggerate everything possible!!)

"Y que te importa?! Ni te gusta-" (and why do you care?! You don't even like him-)

"No pero para que quieres caer en mentiras de los reporteros!?!" I say and push the remote towards me but she wasn't budging. (but why do you wanna fall for the lord of those reporters!?!)

"Oigan!! Ya paren!" My dad yells but we still don't stop. (Listen!! Stop that now!)

Suddenly my grandma stands up and reaches behind her to grab her car keys, "ya se! Esta hermoso afuera, saquen el caro y vayan a la playa!" (Oh I know! It's gorgeous outside, take the car out and go to the beach!)

She threw the keys to Saraí who let go of the remote and caught the keys with ease, "gracias abue!!" (thanks grandma!!)

She skips out of the kitchen until my mom yells at her, "Lleva a tu hermana!!!" (Take your sister!!!)

She groans and stomps her feet on the ground then walks off. My mom turns to me and gives me a look before nodding to where Saraí made her dramatic exit. "Ve." (Go)

And just like that we had made our way to the beach, Saraí found a lucky spot really close to the beach. I took off my seatbelt and got out of the car. "Why are we in Malibu? Weren't we gonna go to Venice?" I ask and she rolls her eyes as she gets out and walks to the trunk of the car.

"Because Miguel surfs in Malibu." She says matter-of-factly earning herself a glare.

Jesus she's obsessed.

She gets the beach chair she got for herself and closes the trunk then locks the car. I follow her lead as she squeals and looks left to right. On the lookout.

"Today is the day- I feel it in my bones, he's here." She says and I just chuckle.

"Sure he is." I say sarcastically but she just ignores me.

"I'm praying he's not with Lyla, she's not pretty enough for him." She says making me laugh. Damn.

"I wonder what his eyes look like.... Like really up close...." She rambles and lets out a sigh.

"Chocolate brown. A really pretty brown." I imply but she just completely ignores me and runs off to a random direction.

I stand there watching her leave me and scoff. Sisters.

I sigh and take a look around the beach to see where I can sit and just chill without her nagging me about that man anymore.

Suddenly I see something familiar out of the corner of my eye and I look around me and see that no one has noticed what I have.

I shrug and stroll on over to a man sitting by himself next to an empty chair, "hey is this seat taken?"

I walk behind the chair and place my bag on the floor, taking a seat ignoring that he didn't respond. "Don't mind if I do." I tell the man and sigh.

"Esta tan bonito afuera hoy, no crees?" I turn to look at the familiar man who I ended up spending a lot of time with yesterday. (It's so pretty outside today, don't you think?)

He then shifts in his seat and I can't tell if he's recognized me or not but I'll have some fun with this. "Ay perdón estaba dormido- lo desperté?" I ask and smile. (Oh I'm sorry you were asleep- did I wake you?)

He shakes his head and looks down crossing his arms against his chest, as if a small ass hat and little sunglasses are gonna hide his big stature.

"No? Ah que bueno! Me puede poner bloqueador en la espalda?" I ask teaching over to my bag and pulling up a bottle of sunscreen. (That's good! Can you put sunscreen on my back?)

He then turns to look at me and tips his glasses down so I could see his eyes, then laughs and shakes his head. "Como sabías que fui yo?" He asks and gives me that smile I've now seen plenty of times. Jesus. (How'd you know it was me?)

"La cachucha." I respond and look up at my grandpas hat. (The hat)

"It smells like grass." He says making me chuckle.

"Might just be you." I reply and he laughs.

He gives me another smile before taking off his glasses and turning to face me, "what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here? Go home." I joke and he sighs.

"I tried...."

"And?"

He looks away and waves me off, "no lo entenderías." (You wouldn't understand)

I scoff and roll my eyes, "ahh entonces crees que eres tan especial que alguien normal como yo no podría entender que difícil es ser tu?" (so you think that you're so special that someone normal like me isn't able to understand how hard it is to be you?)

He laughs then shrug, turning his head to face me again, "hay diez carros de los chismosos afuera de mi casa." (there's ten cars filled with paparazzi outside my house)

"Damn.... That's fucked..." I mutter and refrain from saying something stupid.

He hums in agreement and we sit there in silence for a few seconds before he speaks again, "necesito un carro que ellos no reconozcan para ir a las casa." (I need a car that they don't recognize so I can go home)

I hum and fight the urge to offer our car, I couldn't even imagine him driving abuela's baby pink beetle. He definitely wouldn't fit in it anyway.

Then he looks me up and down, plotting something and asks, "que estás manejando tu?" (what are you driving?)

I grin and lean towards him, "oh you'll love it, it's a classic. Really pretty."

I bite my lip to not laugh and he smiles, "perfect I could pay you-"

"Stop- stop doing that-"

"Stop doing what?”

"Throwing your money around like that. Todavia me debes cinco mil por quedarte en el garaje de la abue." I say and he chuckles. (You still owe me five thousand for staying at my grandma's garage)

He smiles at me and I smile back, "give me your keys." I say and bring my hand up to him and motion for him to give me them.

"Why....." he asks and raises an eyebrow. As if he couldn't trust me.

I could've easily asked for more money... I really should've..

"Well if you're gonna have our car you can't just leave us without one." I say and he hesitates.

His face crunches up and it really looks like he's about to change his mind. He cannot be serious....

He reaches down to his pocket and grabs his keys, I open then close my hand ready to snatch em as soon as he gives them to me. He brings them up and right as I was gonna close my hand he pulls them away. I give him a look and he gives me one right back. "Okay listen-" I try to grab them but he pulls them back.

"She's a-" I try to snatch them again but he brings his hand up. Oh my fucking god-

"She's a three hundred and twenty horsepower-" he brings his hand down slightly and I try to grab it but again he moves it. This piece of shit-

"1998 model-" Hand comes back down and I quickly try to grab it but again no use.

"Brand new wrap-" He moved his hand making me groan.

"Look I love Gabi okay?" He says with such a serious look and tone.

"Gabi?"

He nods and I prevent the urge to roll my eyes at him, "you name your cars?"

He nods again hesitantly and I now grab the keys from his hand. I give him a look then roll my eyes getting up and walking over to where Saraí was tanning.

I tip toed to her which didn't matter because she had headphones on and eyes were closed. Perfect.

I grab the keys to grandma's car then slide in Miguel's keys before making my way back to him.

I motion for him to follow me and he stands up, jogging over to me as I lead him to his hot new ride. I walk us towards where the beetle is with Miguel on my tail and still on the lookout.

I then stop in front of the car and grin up at him, "Miguel meet Petunia."

He stops and blings his sunglasses down, face disgusted. "Bring her back within the next hour." I tell him and grab his hand, putting the keys on his hand while letting out giggles.

Suddenly he grabs me and pulls me down, hiding us behind the car while mumbling to himself. "How the hell did they find me-" he says grabbing my hand and making me follow him to be by the hood of the car.

"Oh please my sister found you easily and we're from Detroit." I mumble and he turns to look at me for a second with a puzzled look and I just shrug.

We then hear the sound of vans pulling up to the parking lots and doors opening with people talking. He lets go of my hand and takes his glasses off, "here put them on."

I take them and look at them for a few seconds before he gives me a look, "Now. And get in."

I lift my hands up in fake defense and put them on as he goes to the drivers seat. I walk on over to the passenger seat and fix the glasses when the door opens and hits me in the face.

I fall back and I quickly get up to glare at him through the window, "you cannot be serious- quit fucking hitting me O'Hara." I hiss and he shoots me an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry- I'm sorry- get in- get in-" he mumbled and I roll my eyes, opening the door and hop in.

He then opens the glove compartment and goes through it, "what the fuck are you doing now-"

He shushes me and pulls out a scarf and hands it to me, "put this on."

"Why-"

"Just do it."

"Okay Nike sponsorship." I mutter and wrap it around my head.

He then starts the car and start to reverse, he propped his shoulder up and his head down then leaned over as if he had back issues. I bring the glasses to my nose and hold my breath, sinking int the sink as I felt and heard the paparazzi outside the car thinking he was in here. Which they technically weren't wrong about.

But nonetheless they groaned and pulled the cameras away from the car and us. Thank god.

After leaving the beach I let out a sigh and turn my head to look at him, "manejas como mi abuelo!" (you drive like my grandpa!)

He shifts and gets more comfortable, "Y tu te ves como mi abuela!" He jokes making us both laugh as I looked forward and to the highway while taking off the scarf. (And you look like my grandma)

"Necesito mis lentes." He says and I smile, shrugging feeling his gaze on me. (I need my glasses)

"No se... creo que me gustan..." I say and fix my hair, putting some strands behind my ear. (I don't know.... I think I like them...)

"Te los regalo... al rato." He says and I gasp. (I'll give them to you... later)

"De verdad?!?" I ask then quickly continue trying to mimic Saraí, "mis amigas nunca me lo van a creer que yo, tengo un par de Miguel O'Hara lentes que el mismísimo Miguel O'Hara se a puesto!!" (For real?!? My friends will never believe that I, have a pair of Miguel O'Hara sunglasses that have been worn by Miguel O'Hara himself!!!)

I then gasp and turn my body to face him, "me los firmas porfis?!?" I beg and he just rolls his eyes. (Sign them for me please?!?)

"Te crees bien graciosa eh?" He says making me grin and nod. (You think you're so funny)

"Que?" I tease and give him an innocent smile. "No pero de verdad si quiero estos lentes." I say and look at the dark maroon color of the frames. (What? No but seriously I want those glasses)

"Un huh... dámelos. Come on." He says and does grabby hands. (Give me them)

I sigh and take them off handing them over to him. "So how long am I stuck with you this time?" I ask earning myself a laugh.

"Until the paps leave the beach...." He says then turns to look at me, "let's go do something."

"Like what?" I ask and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Anything. What have you seen since you got here?"

"Nothing. I've been too busy following you around." I say and his eyes bright up.

"Really?" He says in a soft tone and I just playfully roll my eyes.

"With my sister... she idolizes you." I say and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

Why'd it seem like he was disappointed?

I shrug and continue, "I mean I couldn't care less about you or your city."

He gasps and shakes his head in disbelief, "I already knew you didn't like me but you don't have to take it out on Los Angeles. It's a beautiful city."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, yknow what, I'll be your tour guide."

"I thought you were going home..."

"Meh I'll just take the long way." He says and gives me that smile as he puts his glasses back on.

He turns the radio on and just to my luck his song came on. He gives me a grin and I just sigh, relaxing into my seat as he drives us to who knows where.

He ended up taking me to Santa Monica Pier, Venice beach, Rodeo Drive to buy me stuff (which I wasn't complaining about), the walk of fame to see the stars of my actual favorite celebrities, to the Hollywood sign which was huge in person.

He had bought me a Polaroid camera while we were at the pier and ended up using all the film, and he bought me a two pack. Now I just had forty little Polaroid pictures in my purse along with other cute souvenirs.

We were singing along to the songs on the radio when I noticed he drove us back to his house. "Gonna keep me for longer huh?" I tease and chuckle, looking up at the huge mansion he calls home.

He smiles and nods as he parks in front of his house and unlocks the doors. I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door getting out of the car.

I had shocked myself today, actually enjoying myself and letting myself not be so judgmental of Miguel as well as getting to know the real him. He was nice, very sarcastic and somewhat funny. But I'm not gonna admit that to his face.

I was appalled when finding out he wasn't narcissistic or rude and was actually chill and fun to be around. Again not admitting that to his face.

And he was a total gentlemen, opening doors for me, paying for everything even though I kept fighting him on it. It felt like a first date even though our circumstances were just odd and weird. And it technically wasn't even a date.

I followed him inside and he beckoned me over to his living room while he went to get us something to drink. I plopped down on the longer couch and it felt like a cloud.

Didn't even look too luxurious which was a green flag in my books. I laid back and sighed, what have these two days been?

How did this happen to me? And why was I enjoying it more than I thought I would?

Miguel comes back with two glasses and a bottle of wine, I laugh as he sets them on the coffee table in front of me. He pours both glasses and hands me one which I gladly took.

Free wine? Say less.

I take a sip then immediately take another, was pretty good...

He plops down next to me and I turn my body to face him, I couldn't even deny how attractive he was. Not that I did before but he just looked really good today...

Kept giving me that look with those eyes and that pretty smile flashing me his pearly whites that were the smallest bit crooked but still looked pretty.

I take another sip then place the glass on the table and put all my attention to him. "So couldn't get enough of me, you had to bring me back?" I tease and lean my side into the couch.

He laughs and shrugs, "Well I thought we had a fun day..." he says and scoots closer to me.

I nod and try not to react too much, if he moved just a tiny bit more his leg will be touching mine... and I wouldn't even mind.

"And I thought why not continue the fun..." he says and leans in, his face now much closer to mine.

I felt my skin grow warm and tried to calm my breathing. Why was he making me so nervous?

Did one day really just change my entire mindset on him?

"Surely this isn't the wine hitting you already right?" I tease in a softer tone, wanting some kind of reassurance I'm not imagining things. No way I'm delusional after the day we've had...

He laughs then gives me a smile, "it's definitely not the wine."

I hum and nod, my cheeks growing warmer by the second and I just prayed he couldn't see it. This felt so embarrassing.

"Is this okay?" He whispers and scoots until there was no more space between us.

His leg was touching mine and I couldn't trust myself to speak so I only nodded. He then reached over and placed his glass on the table before leaning back on the couch, turning to face me. Why did he have to look so good?

Even better up close-

My thoughts were cut short when I felt him place his hand on my thigh, touching my bare skin. I looked into his eyes noticing he was even closer now, my nerves never leaving my body. I look down to his lips and god I really wanted to kiss him.

As if thinking the same I was, he brought his other hand up to cup my cheek and leans in. I close my eyes and close the gap, kissing him gently. He kisses back instantly and I feel his hand squeeze my thigh then running his fingers up and down making me gasp.

He slides his tongue in and I gladly let him, bring my hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair. I twirl some curls between my fingers then lightly pull on them, earning myself a groan from him.

I felt myself growing more needy, craving more and feeling the familiar heat rising down to my core so I squeezed my thighs together then pulled away for a second and nibbled on his bottom lip. I felt his hand graze my inner thigh, fingers slipping under my shorts making me let out a sigh.

He turned my head and attached his lips to my neck, leaving wet kisses all over while his fingers kept rubbing but not where I needed them most. I tilted my head back and spread my legs to which he slid his hand up and to the zipper of my shorts.

He sucked gently on my skin then kissed it a few times before I felt his hands slip down. I let out a whine and buck my hips up, to which i then felt his touch right above my centre. I squirmed and was about to lay my head back until he grabbed me, moving my body and placed me between his legs.

His hands trailed down my legs slowly then came back up and to my stomach. Thinking he'd stop there I was left shocked seeing and feeling his fingertips work their way between my tits then back down.

I laid my head back against his hard chest and let out a shaky breath. He turns his head to kiss my neck and continue his grazing. I was already breathless and he's barely touched me, I needed him.

"Estas tan hermosa." He whispers in my ear making me whimper and squirm against him, now directly on his crotch. (You're so beautiful)

"Miguel-" I breathe out but cuts me off by pecking my lips softly.

I moan into his mouth then feel his fingers coming back up but this time he groped my tits with both hands. I whined and grind against him as he continues kissing me, leaving me a mess already.

He groans and squeezes them, fondling them in his hands as I kiss him back. Suddenly he brings a hand down, slowly trailing it down my body until he reaches the waistband of my shorts.

He undos it then quickly pulls the zipper down before quickly sliding his hand in and starts rubbing my soaked cunt through my panties. I feel my eyes fluttering as he moves his hand steadily while I bring my left hand to grip his left arm that was now pinching my nipple.

I bite my lip, moving my hips up and down, needing more. "Miguel por favor-" I breathe out and he just hums. (please)

"Dime que quieres nena, te quiero escuchar." He purrs into my ear making me whimper. (Tell me what you want baby girl, I wanna hear you)

"I- fuck-" I mutter and close my mouth with my right hand.

He was now rubbing circles over my clit, so fucking slowly. This piece of shit thought it was nice to tease me like this?!? As if he couldn't feel how badly I wanted this...

"Dime que quieres amor." He murmurs continuing his teasing pace as I buck my hips up but still doesn't change anything. (Tell me what you want love)

"Te necesito Miguel- por favor-" I plead and whimper when he slows down again. (I need you- please-)

"Me necesitas?" He mocks in my ear and I just nod repeatedly as he speeds up the tiniest bit. (You need me?)

"Pero todavía no haz dicho que quieres nena..." he murmurs and leaves a soft kiss on my neck. (But you still haven't said what you want baby girl...)

I felt my eyes flutter and a blush rose to my cheeks, why did he have to sound so perfect?

Just his words alone were enough to make me more wet for him. He was driving me insane.

"N-necesito tus dedos..." I whimper and spread my legs as he moves my panties to the side, "por favor fóllame con tus dedos-" I whine and he slides two of his long fingers inside without another word. (need your fingers, please fuck me with your fingers-)

I gasp feeling them fill me up, surprised to feel how thick they were. I felt my legs shake slightly while I tried to keep my breathing steady considering he was just starting. He was already filling me up so nicely and it felt incredible. "So tight and wet for me baby." He whispers and pumps his fingers inside me, my walls enveloping them.

He worked on my cunt almost expertly, curling them up making me arch my back against him. With his available hand he wrapped it around my waist, as if to make me refrain from moving. "Miguel- M-Miguel-"

He hummed and started going faster, I could feel my creamy juices slip down to my asshole as he went faster and deeper. I let out whines and closed my eyes when I feel his lips on my cheek then on my ear. "Such a pretty mess for me huh baby?"

I whimpered and couldn't help but clench against his fingers making me let out more whimpers. "S-so good-" I moan out and kisses my neck softly.

"I know baby, I know." He murmurs and goes even faster leaving me a moaning mess on top of him.

"Estas tomando mis dedos tan bien princesa." He praised making me whimper and clench against him once again. (You're taking my fingers so well princess)

"Te gusta que te hable así hm?" He teases and I open my eyes only to roll them and bite my lip. (You like when I talk to you like that)

Starting to despise him again, I hated his teasing but couldn't help but like it.

"Contéstame nena." He purrs in a low tone, that making my orgasm quickly approach. (Answer me baby)

"Si- si me gusta mucho- me encanta como me hablas-" I moan out and he slows down but fucks me deeper. (Yes- yes I like it a lot- I love way you talk to me-)

"Good girl." He moans and starts pumping his fingers faster again.

I whimpered and tried to buck my hips up but his strong arm didn't let me and just gripped me to stay still. I held on to it and laid my head back against his chest, then look down at the sight. His fingers fucking me effortlessly with my arousal being the main thing that's being heard in the room. "Aren't you just taking it so well baby?" He purrs and I nod, looking up to look at him.

I crash our lips together and he suddenly starts fucking me even faster making me moan against his mouth. He slides his tongue inside my mouth as I continue moaning and try to kiss back.

I felt the familiar feeling of my orgasm approach in the pit of my stomach as he continued fucking me fast as well as deep. "I'm gonna-" i murmur against his lips and he just hums, continuing with our kiss.

I glide my tongue against his but then stop, letting out whines and whimpers as my orgasm hit me hard with Miguel not stopping. "Fuck- Miguel!" I whimper feeling my legs shaking violently.

He lets me ride my orgasm and slows his pace down as he gives me light pecks while I try to catch my breath. He then pulls away after one final peck and leans his forehead against mine. Not able to keep my eyes open, I lean into his touch, a weak smile forming on my lips. "That was incredible." I say and let out a small giggle.

He nods and grins, "you did so good love."

He kisses me softly and I kiss him back the same way when I feel him slowly slip his fingers out of me. His fingers come out and I feel more of my juices slip down to my asshole, "oh my god baby-" he moans and brings his fingers up to our faces.

I grab his hand and lazily open my mouth, taking his fingers into my mouth and lick my arousal clean. I looked at him and innocently bat my eyes while he groans. I made sure to lick every drop before he finally slips his fingers out and crashes his lips onto mine.

I immediately kiss back and move my body to no longer be on his crotch but on the couch with my legs over his thighs. His tongue slid into my mouth making me melt as I felt one hand go to cup my jaw and the other to my thigh.

He rubbed my skin softly and I felt myself melt into his embrace, "you're incredible." He murmurs against my mouth making me pull away.

I lean my head against his chest as he now wraps both arms around my body, feeling shivers run down my spine. "No you are." I whisper and chuckle.

Then we just sat there in comfortable silence, I was listening to his heartbeat as he played with my hair and my breathing was now back to normal.

"So do you like me now?" He whispers and I burst out laughing.

I then stop and shrug, "maybe a little bit..."

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