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#I guess I should just beg for attention
foolishnpd · 6 months
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I make a concerning post, but do not explicitly ask for or even expect attention for it
and then when I get no attention I just want to curl up and die because nobody loves me nobody cares about me I'm better off dead oh god
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storm-of-feathers · 1 month
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a?
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
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“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
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fairy-hub · 1 month
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𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! fluff, suggestiveness - talking about/hinting towards satoru fingering/eating you out but nothing happens, kissing, satoru fondly makes fun of you a lil, he also carries you around, collage au, collage student!reader, collage student!gojo
fey: I’m still gonna be on hiatus for a little longer but in the mean time have this fluff nugget inspired by my hubby
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Satoru huffs and pokes your cheek till you swat his hand away. He flops on the bed next to you, the soft breeze and movement disturbing your carefully placed papers.
You whine “Satoru!”
“Sweet pie! You’ve been studying and working in that essay all day for the past three days please!” He throws his hand across his forehead, clutching his chest. “I beg of you feed me attention before I starve. I’m wilting away before you! How cold hearted can you be.” His eyes are with tears.
Tossing your throw blanket over him, “This should keep you warm.” You take you eyes off the screen to read the open text book next to you. Before referring to your notes then glancing back up at your computer screen.
He pops his head out from underneath the blanket with gasp. “No I’m not cold! You’re cold hearted!” He sits up and wraps his arms around you. “Please just an hour, we can order some food, take a shower get you out of your funky funk.” Pinching his nose and waving his hand in front of his face.
“You’re foul.”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Like your armpits! Study starting break now! I your wonderful boyfriend refuse to let you be stinky.” He slowly closes the lid on the rough draft of your paper.“I’ll help you write some more after, if you don’t give your mind a break you’ll fry it and make it useless.” He kisses the top of your head.
“Let’s go lil’ stink!” He drags you off the bed, your feet dangle in the air as he holds you to his chest.
Squeezing you whilst you protest, “Hey you can’t steal that! I don’t wanna hear it from the one with the stanky attitude making me take a break for my health how dare you.” He carefully sets you down in the bathroom.
He waves a hand in your direction, “Yes yes, how dare I care for my beautiful girlfriend and rub her naked body down with my large soapy hands in a warm shower, that I as her perfect boyfriend know the temperature of.”
He lights some of the candles arranged around the bathroom. And starts the heater that he insists your bathroom needs. After not stepping into another cold bathroom after a hot shower you can understand why.
You rid yourself of your clothes, throwing them into the hamper. “Do you need to toot you own horn?” Relieving yourself then washing your hands.
Turning around and watching him strip. His arms flex as he pulls his black shirt off. His v line peeks out of his sweatpants, which he pushes down. Your gaze lingers on his soft cock and large balls before you glance up into his sparkling blue eyes.
He corners you against the counter, booping the tip of your nose with his long finger. “You’ve been neglecting me for days I might need to remind you what a awesome boyfriend I am! What if you’ve forgotten!” He pouts.
You slide your fingers through his soft silver white hair. Pulling him in, your lips close to his, “I could never forget, you won’t let me, but I suppose it’s part of your charm. I guess it’s kind of cute when you’re cocky.”
Satoru smirks into the slow passionate kiss he gives you. Lifting you up, reflexively you wrap your legs around his waist. It’s easy to forget everything when you’re kissing him. There is the safety of his arms, the sweet passion of his soft lips on yours.
When he breaks away Satoru suggests, “After our shower would it be too cruel of me to give my girl a happy ending? As some stress relief and reward for all her studying of course.” He massages your cheek. His large warm hand feels wonderful targeting your sore spots.
You softly groan, “Please! I don't know if I wanna ride your face, fingers or cock.”
“Why not all three one after another? I can suck on your pretty clit and let you cum on my fingers then I can fill you up.” He carries you into the warm shower, supporting you with one hand. Closing the curtain behind himself.
He stands underneath the warm water, steam billowing off it. “‘M sorry for not texting for three days, you know I’ve missed my amazing boyfriend, you’re just so talented at so many things like distracting me when I need to study.” He helps you onto your feet, placing your backside facing towards the rushing water.
He protests, “I can behave and help you study.” Pouring some of his favorite strawberry and sugar scented body wash onto his hand.
You close your eyes tilting your head back. Soaking your curls and letting the water wash over your face. The water melts away some of the tension building in your neck and shoulders.
You rub your right shoulder and winch whilst insisting, “You tell me that every time.” Turning around and stepping out of the water, closing your eyes. It’s relaxing knowing he’ll take care of you, from washing your body, to treating your curls to applying your face care.
Rubbing soap over your back and ass, leaving soapy white bubbles. He massages your shoulders whilst pleading his case, “Please lemme help you study! We have the same essay due and test to take. Our study sessions is how we got together I miss them.”
You softly sigh and cave in, “I miss them too, ok you win can stay, you’re too charming.”
He playful croons “I always win.” Kissing the top of your wet head. “You won't regret it I'll be the best study buddy!” You widely smile, the delight in Satoru’s voice is heartwarming.
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makoodles · 7 months
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I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?
yes to all of this
(a little drabble part 2 to this)
Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.
So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.
Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.
He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.
He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.
He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.
He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.
He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.
He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.
It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.
But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.
"Let me try."
He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.
You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.
He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.
Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”
Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.
In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.
After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.
He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.
He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.
He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.
He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.
He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.
He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.
He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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Open Up
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You help Bucky feel better when he's in a mood.
Word Count: Over 1.8k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, dirty talk, slight jealousy, threat of violence (not against reader), slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: A Sinday treat inspired by this gif! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You found Bucky in one of the interrogation rooms. He had his leather jacket on, but didn't appear to be in a hurry to leave. Taking in his rigid posture from where he sat in his chair, you guessed it wasn't a good day. You wondered what happened or what exactly was bothering him. Considering he didn't look toward you, and he had to know it was you who walked through the door, you sensed that he wasn't in the mood to talk.
It didn't mean you couldn't try and make him feel better.
“Hey, Sarge,” you said, shutting the door behind you before you walked across the room. “Bad day?” You asked, stopping a few inches in front of him.
A pair of steel blue eyes snapped toward you and you couldn't suppress the shiver that rolled down your spine. It wasn't fair that he appeared so commanding when he was the one sitting in a chair and you were on your feet. “You could say that.”
“Anything I can do to help?” You asked with an almost innocent look in your eyes as he spread his massive thighs.
“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing to his crotch with his metal hand. “You can get on your knees and suck my cock.”
Your throat went dry as you looked in his lap, watching with growing interest as his thick fingers swiftly unbuckled his belt and pants. What if someone walked in? It was no secret that you and Bucky were together, but it didn't mean anyone should have to witness any of your endeavors. Then again, wasn't the thrill of getting caught part of the fun?
“Are you sure that's what you want? You could fuck my pussy,” you offered, your panties embarrassingly damp considering he hadn't touched you. If he asked you to, you’d ride him in that chair until his eyes rolled back.
The low chuckle he let out made your throat go dry. His laughter didn't fool you. He wasn't in the mood to play or tease. “If you want my cock in your cunt so badly, you better earn it by taking me in your fucking throat first,” he growled.
Your knees just about gave out, which gave you the perfect excuse to sink to the cool floor. “Will that make you feel better?” You asked as you crawled to him and slid your hands up his legs. Your cheeks flamed under his dark gaze. It was a thing of wonder to have his full attention. “Your big cock fucking my throat? Making me swallow every drop?”
“It’s a start,” he whispered, cupping your jaw with a tender touch. His thumb reached over to trace your lips, but pulled away before you could suck the digit into your waiting mouth. “Need that pretty pussy filled, too.”
You clenched, wishing he’d shove you on the back, push your legs apart, and drive his cock in so deep you'd scream. But you wouldn't get what you wanted if you didn't take care of him first. And having his dick in your mouth was something you craved, so you would enjoy it.
“Tell me you need it,” he ordered, his tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth dragged along it.
“I need it. Need you to fuck my throat,” you begged, unzipping his jeans and peeling them down with his underwear as far as you could. His thick cock bobbed free and you couldn't help licking your lips at the sight. You gripped the base and preened when he hardened more under your touch. “It’s so big. You can choke me with it if you want to.”
He groaned, heat curling in your gut when he rocked his hips up. “Look at you. So eager for it. Bet you'd rub your pussy against my boot if I told you to just to get a taste,” he rasped, making you whine. You’d love to leave a shine on his leather. “Everyone thinks you're a good agent and a good girl, but you’re my little cockslut.”
You pouted as you looked up at him. His blue eyes had gone black, the light shining over his head giving him the appearance of a dark angel. Beautiful, tortured, and heavenly. “I’m all of those things,” you said, licking from just above where your fingers held him to the tip. “I’m a good agent and a good girl. Your good girl.”
Because if there was anyone you wanted to be good for, it was Bucky Barnes.
“Fuck,” he grunted when your enclosed your lips around the head. The taste of him bloomed on your tongue, but it was just the beginning. He’d spill down your throat by the time you were done so the very essence of him lingered. “You are, doll. You’re so good and all mine,” he said, growling the last word.
You pulled off with a sweet smile, his praise bringing out your need to please him more. “And I’m very much your cockslut. So fuck my throat, Sarge,” you said, wasting no time swallowing him down.
“Your fucking mouth,” he groaned, bringing a hand to the back of your neck.
You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked in a breath through your nose as you relaxed your throat. As tempted as you were to reach between your legs and give yourself some relief, you rested your free hand on his thigh. The muscle twitched beneath it and he would feel it if you gave him the signal to stop. You never once had to.
You took him every single time.
He touched your jaw again, making sure your mouth stayed wide open around him. He forced you to take him in deeper, his hips thrusting up as you gagged. “That’s it. Suck it just like that,” he urged, making you moan around the thick length of him. “My good girl. Everything I need right here.”
Tears blurred your vision, but they quickly spilled over. He looked back at you with half-lidded eyes, your heart pounding at the sight. You knew you looked pretty stretched around him. And you knew he wanted to keep you.
“So beautiful on your knees,” he praised, his hands moving to grip each side of your head to control the pace. You whimpered when your hand fell away and nose brushed the curls at the base of his cock. His metal thumb wiped away a tear as he made you bob your head. “Take it, doll. I know it’s a lot, but you can take it. I know you can.”
Those weren't just words to stroke his ego or your own. It was a lot to take. Drool seeped from the corners of your mouth, adding to the mess from your tear tracks and running makeup. You were certain you looked ruined, which only made you more stunning in his eyes. Because he was the cause and effect. He broke you so beautifully and put every piece back in place while leaving a bit of himself behind as a reminder of who you belonged to.
“You're my girl,” he said in a deep voice, quickening his pace as your throat contracted around him. “Mine.”
“Yours.” The muffled reply made him growl. You reached up to cup his balls, still allowing him to keep the pace. He said he wanted to fuck your throat and you wouldn't stop him, but you wanted to make him feel good.
“My dirty girl on her knees. Bet the camera’s recording us right now,” he went on, your mouth pliant as he continued to thrust. You almost forgot about the surveillance. “Should swipe the footage. Make you sit on my cock while you watch how well you take it.”
You moaned, sending more vibrations through his cock as he groaned and panted. His rhythm almost faltered when you gently squeezed, feeling him twitch in your mouth and under your hand before you let go. He was so close, chasing his release. It was getting harder to breathe, your eyes stinging with tears again, but he was almost there.
You had to get him off.
The slight drag of your teeth did the trick. “Take it. Don't waste a fucking drop,” he grunted, his face twisting and keeping your head down as his release flooded your mouth. Glancing up at him as you did your best to swallow it all, he looked like such a pretty mess, too. Parted lips, warm cheeks, pupils blown with lust. He was just as ruined as you.
No one else had that kind of power over him.
You gasped and greedily inhaled when he pulled you off of him and slumped in the chair, catching his breath, too. He groaned when your tongue went out to catch another drop that dropped from the head of his cock. Your soaked panties from having him in your mouth didn't matter. He’d get you off soon enough.
As long as he was okay from whatever bothered him earlier, that was all you cared about.
“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing the chair back and joining you on your knees. He slotted his lips against yours as he pulled you close, leaving you breathless once again as his tongue explored your mouth. You carded your fingers through his short hair as he took what he needed, his stubble leaving a slight burn on your skin.
Another subtle reminder that you were his girl.
“Better, Sarge?” You asked once he finished, your voice raw. If he wanted to talk, you’d listen.
“Much better,” he promised, his next kiss sweet and tender. The earlier tension he held in his body had disappeared, which gave you some relief. “Thank you.”
“Good,” you smiled against his lips.
He closed his eyes, his nose touching yours. “I'm not a killer anymore.”
You raised an eyebrow. Those weren't the words you were expecting to hear. “I know,” you said.
“But I had to stay here,” he said, kissing over to your ear. “Because if I bumped into the agent who touched you earlier, I would've shattered every bone in his hand.”
“Bucky,” you breathed, your heart pounding when he pulled back to stare at you. Lust lit up his eyes again, but there was an underlying rage building as his nostrils flared. Was that why he was in a mood? Because an agent had touched your arm before you said you had a boyfriend? It was so meaningless in your eyes that you had forgotten about it.
But, fuck, if this slightly possessive side wasn't hot.
“You told him you were mine because you’re my good girl. Still pissed me off that he checked you out when you walked away. Still wanted to break his hand,” he snarled, laying you on your back. “And I know your voice is a little hoarse, but I need to make you scream my name. I want everyone nearby to know you’re my girl,” he said, his eyes on you as he pointed to the camera in the far left corner. “And anyone watching.”
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So, that happened. Lovelies, you may go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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lovebugism · 4 months
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if you're still interested in smutty requests.. what about the line "want me to serenade you while you strip?" and it's eddie jokingly saying this to reader and she runs with it and he tries to keep playing but COME ON there's more important things those fingers should be doing 👀
congrats! u win the award for most eddie coded request of all time :D — eddie makes you laugh when you get nervous undressing in front of him (18+, allusion to smut, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
“Stop looking at me like that!” you whine with your arms crossed over your nearly bare chest. “You’re making it weird!”
Eddie laughs loud. “Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, leaning back on the mattress and propping his weight on his elbows. He’s got a better view of you from this angle. More of your half-naked body in his sight.
“I can feel you looking at me— It’s making me feel weird.”
“Well, how am I supposed to look anywhere else when you’re in front of me like this, huh?” 
His eyes are lidded and swimming with melted chocolate. You’re not sure how you’ve captured his attention like this, in the tamest underwear you own and your most ancient bra. He’s looking at you like you’re already undressed — like you’re still pretty even though you aren’t.
“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, glittering with adoration.
“And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he quips without thinking twice, wild head titled to his shoulder and a crooked smirk on his kissed mouth. “So I guess we’re even.”
His eyes rake over you again, heavy like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen you. 
He pulls his plush lip between his teeth and, almost absentmindedly so, brings his palm to the crotch of his jeans. He grips his covered cock with a pale hand, shifting it slightly within the confines of the denim. It grows slowly and achingly stiff the longer he looks at you.
Eddie looks like a Renaissance painting like this. Ethereal and hedonistic. You almost forget to breathe.
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” you say with a forced laugh.
“You’re half-naked in my bedroom, doll— that’s all you need to do,” he chuckles, golden and more sincere than yours. His ringed fingers clutch tighter at his covered bulge. He breathes hard through his nose. “You could be fully clothed, and you’d still turn me on.”
“Stop messing with me,” you argue in a tiny voice, features twisted in a subtle pout.
“I’m not messing with you.”
“Do you want me to get naked? Or should I just stand here for the next two minutes?”
“Two minutes? C’mon. Give me a little credit. At least, two-and-a-half,” Eddie jokes. And then, when you laugh, he assures you. “You don’t have to get undressed if it makes you uncomfortable. Unless it would make you feel better if I serenaded you—”
“No.”
“—Too late.” 
You reach your arms for the clasp of your bra. Eddie’s voice fills the trailer — “do, do, do, do-do-do-do-do-do” — the high-pitched intro to “I Was Made for Loving You.” It makes you laugh loud. A big, girlish laugh that makes your head drop back.
Your bra comes off, and you forget to be nervous.
“Why are you laughin’ at me, huh?” Eddie jokes, eyes going squishy around the edges when he looks at you.
“‘Cause that’s, like, the least sexiest part of that song.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Well, are you gonna keep singing, superstar? Or am I gonna have to keep my underwear on?”
He goes dumb for a flash of a second, forgets the lyrics and how to form the words of them in his mouth. He jumbles them together for a second in mindless mumbles until the real thing spills from his lips. “—‘Cause girl, you were made for me… And girl, I was made for you…”
You tug your panties down your thighs while he sings for you. You make a big show of it too, tossing the pair of them into your lover’s lap and giggling when it gets him all flustered. 
“Fuck— c’mere,” he urges, as dumb as he is breathless, now that you’re fully naked in front of him. His hand drops to his lap again, palming at his stiffening length to ease the ache there. His free hand reaches out for you. “Can you— Just come sit in my lap, baby, please.”
You don’t know why he’s groveling. You were breaking the second you saw him melting for you. Not thinking straight enough to tease him about it, you settle yourself over his lap — kneeling on the mattress, both of your thighs straddling one of his.
You linger there, just above him. Eddie’s ringed hands reach gently for your warm jaw to pull you closer to him. You don’t give in so easily — “Keep singing for me, rockstar. You got a show to warm up for, remember?”
Eddie blinks up at you, eyes wide and lidded and honeyed. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. Like you’re some ethereal being carved out of stone. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen because you are.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “This is so fucking metal.”
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ceilidho · 5 months
Text
prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)
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He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.
“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”
The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.
“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.
“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”
The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke. 
He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.
“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.
You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”
“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”
“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”
“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people. 
He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together. 
There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind. 
Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?
Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.
He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.
When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”
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The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”
“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”
He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.
“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”
Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”
“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”
Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer. 
His bird really has the best ideas. 
Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”
He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes. 
They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home. 
He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself. 
It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge. 
“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.” 
You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company. 
“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”
“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.” 
“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.” 
He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.
“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”
You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”
“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words. 
“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.” 
“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”
“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it. 
“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”
That’s all his mutt needs to hear. 
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You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away. 
You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach. 
Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home. 
This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done. 
It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week. 
“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?” 
Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”
“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?” 
He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist. 
“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax. 
Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue. 
“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”
He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out. 
“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”
“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”
“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”
He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?” 
He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard. 
It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave. 
“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”
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intoxicated-chan · 1 year
Text
Between Your Thighs
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel loves you with his entire heart and you love taking care of Miguel.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “505” by Arctic Monkeys. Can’t stop, won’t stop writing for Miguel, I just can’t. REQUESTS ARE FINALLY OPEN!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 890
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, mentions/description of intercourse, sexual content, receiving (male), pet names (Mi amor), swearing, dacryphilia, deep throating…
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If there was one thing about Miguel that everyone knew, it would be that he was never vulnerable around anyone. Especially to those who he just met, but there was something off with you. Your kind nature towards him made him want to tear his walls down almost immediately. Even if it was going to end up as a single night, nothing more.
But he loved the way your hands trailed down his chest, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you gave every ounce of your love towards him, to a man you barely knew. It wasn’t until he popped the question while in bed that he knew he chose the right one.
And when Miguel isn’t working all day and night, he’s the embodiment of a house husband. He knows how difficult he is at times and he’s happy that you’re so patient.
He especially loves those nights where you let him relax under your touch.
Miguel’s back hit the bed, his head hitting the soft material. His lower half of his body hangs off the edge of the bed.
You watch him carefully, your hand wraps around his hard length, applying pressure from the base to his tip where your thumb pressed against lightly. Teasing and massaging his tip.
Before you could take him into your mouth, you hear him let out a groan, and his hands immediately dig into the bed sheets.
Few pumps with your hand and he moans louder when he feels your warm mouth. You bob your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his length. There were even times where you pulled away to place kisses on his thighs.
You pay attention to Miguel’s moans, hollowing your cheeks which makes him thrusts his hips.
“Amor!” Miguel hisses.
You look up to find his head thrown back, his breathing ragged and quick, you could guess that his eyes are squeezed shut.
Suddenly, you felt a hand come and grasp the back on your head, forcing you to take him deeper. He seems to forget the fact of his claws, how careful he was whenever the two of you did something like this.
But you always reassured him that you placed your trust in him.
“Please!” He begged, lifting his head and his eyes meeting yours, “Please.” He repeated, eyes watering.
The sight of him made you smile around his length. You closed your eyes, letting him control your movements and allow him to fuck your face.
Miguel lets out heavy moans as he thrusts his hips faster. You didn’t know when he sat up and both hands were holding your head.
But you enjoyed the sight of his eyes squinting, his face flushed a bright red, and he looked so beautiful in the moment that you forgot that you were gagging around his cock.
But your eyes began to water as well. As much as you tried to control it, you couldn’t stop it from falling.
Luckily he didn’t catch on or else he’d stop.
He continued until he came into your mouth. He pushed you down all the way to his base.
As you swallowed, you rose to your feet and watched Miguel catch his breath.
“Are you alright?” You ask.
His head hands low, “I should be asking you the same question.” He pants, looking up and I see his watery eyes, “I’m so-”
“I’m alright, Miguel. You didn’t hurt me.”
Then it hits him, “I could’ve-”
“But you didn’t. That proves how much control you have over them.”
Miguel lays back, “…That was amazing though.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
He opens his arms and you lay in them, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Placing a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep in his arms.
Your eyes flutter open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose immediately. And at the foot of the bed, Miguel is hunched over.
“Morning.”
He smiles, leaning over to hand you a mug, “Morning.”
“You’re up early.”
“Yeah, I’ve suddenly got another project. Which means-”
“Another all-nighter.”
“I’m sorry.”
You shake your head as you sip your coffee, “It’s not your fault.”
Miguel comes over to you, hugging you tightly, “I’ll make it up to you.”
You smile, “You don’t gotta, being with you is enough for me.”
You watch him get up from the bed and leave the bedroom. It wasn’t like he was leaving for work, he preferred to work at home so he had his own office. So, it was easier to check up on him.
Once you finished your coffee, you got ready for the day, showered, dressed in comfortable clothes and started fixing the bed first. Next came laundry, and the housework.
Hours later, you knocked on the door to his office, “Miguel, I brought you your food.” You heard him hum loudly, letting you enter his office.
With a plate in hand, you set it next to his hand, “Thank you, mi amor.”
“How’s the project going on so far?”
“Going great, might be done in a couple of hours.” He hums as he feels your fingers run through his hair, “Come m’ere.”
You set yourself on his lap, both of your hands in his hair, “May I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.” He mumbles, relaxing into your touch.
“How long have you been hard?”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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cherryredcheol · 5 months
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"angel"
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tldr: all the way mingyu uses the petname he calls you.
a/n: this is my first fic ever, please be kind.
coos: when he’s trying to get what he wants.
“angel” he looks at you from across the store. you turn your head and wish you hadn’t. As soon as you catch those eyes, you know its over for you. You don’t even know what he wants and you’re already prepared to do anything to give it to him. 
“wear these matching outfits with me?” he asks with the biggest grin on his face. you laugh, immediately nodding along to his idea, knowing how happy it would make him. 
“i can take cute pictures of us and set it as my wallpaper on my phone,” he rambles on, browsing the rack for your size in the unisex shirt he just had to have with you, “...been needing a new one.” 
groans: when you get up to leave. 
“annnnngeeeel” you hear from deep within the sheets. you thought he was asleep, that's why you pecked him so lightly on the cheek before pulling the covers off yourself. you did not expect his gruff voice to hit you so early in the morning. you actually were not expecting to hear it at all today since you had to be at work early. 
“stay a few more minutes. take a shorter shower, do less skincare, just stay in bed,” he begged. how could you say no to him? so you concede. tucking yourself back into the bed. he takes this moment to pull you in tight. 
“mmmm,” he hums. you feel the vibration in your back, where his warm chest was practically enmeshed in you. “sorry about your skin care in advance”
yells: when he needs your attention right this second. 
“angel!” he shouts when he looks up and you weren’t watching him like you promised you would be. The practice room was echoey so it was louder than he intended but it got your attention. You turned away from Seungcheol, brow raised, holding a finger up politely to pause the conversation you were engaged in. 
“you missed my move!” he pouted, stomping his feet very dramatically as he huffed across the room to you. you looked at him ready to apologize and ask him to show you again in a second when his hand wrapped around your wrist. 
“come on,” he said with a little determined frown, brows creasing. he leads you directly to the mirrored wall up front. “sit right here and watch me kill this. you’ll be so proud i finally got this down.” 
moans: when you’re behind him.
“angel” his eyes flutter shut as he feels your soft lips press behind his ear. your arms were wrapped around his waist just so and he could smell your perfume, making his head spin. 
“should we go home?” he felt you nod against his back and he smiled. he knew what this meant when you were needy like this. he knew his night was far from over and he was happy to leave this stuffy party anyway. his shiny new shoes pinching his toes in a way that was starting to become uncomfortable. 
“hey guys?” he said catching wonwoo and jun’s attention. “i think we’re going to head out” he turned slightly, showing the guys how you clung to his back, wrinkling the front of your emerald dress. eyes closed contently with a little smile on your face. “see you later.”
sings: when he gets home. 
“angeeeellllll” his voice carries across the apartment as he flings the door open, expecting you to be right there with a little smile on your face, waiting for him. what he saw instead was nothing. a dark apartment. upon further inspection, he saw a faint light coming from the living room. 
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself, turning on the lamp next to the couch. he was secretly hoping to wake you up so he could spend time with you. it had been a long week away from you in Japan and he missed you. the night was still young, it was practically still dinner time. 
“well, well, well…” he said, hands on hips when you opened your eyes. he smiled when his plan worked. “wake up you lazy bones. it’s time to hang out with me” but when you turned on your puppy dog eyes and reached up for him, who was he to refuse a cuddle on the couch? he guessed you could hang out in the morning. 
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paigestrap · 28 days
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the surprise
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anon requested
paige x fem!reader
warnings: smut (minors dni), lingerie, swearing
~3k words
summary:
you plan a surprise for paige but it gets ruined when she flakes to hang out with her teammates. realizing her mistake, she makes it up to you.
enjoy yall i made this instead of writing my 15 page essay 😵😵😵
you were so excited...
you had planned a surprise date with p for the entire day, it was your way of thanking her for the many amazing dates she would take u on and you couldn’t wait to spend the entire day with her. it was one of her days off and she had told you yesterday that she was super excited to spend the entire day with you. unfortunately, your plans and day were ruined when she had texted you this afternoon.
p: hey baby ik i said id hang out with u today but ice and kk have been begging me all day to do something with them do u mind if i go see a movie with them and then get food? i promise i'm all yours tonight ;)
fuck. your stomach dropped and suddenly all your excitement for your plans faded away. you didn’t know what to say to her, you really wanted to spend this time with her and you had made a big effort planning this surprise for her but you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t spend time with her friends.
but you were also kind of… mad? it hurt you that even though she spends all her time with her teammates and sees them at practice almost everyday she would rather spend her free time with them than with you. it may have been a toxic mindset but it still bothered you. you decided to go with a passive aggressive response.
you: sure, see u later.
you sighed as you collected yourself, putting away the groceries you bought to make her dinner. and filling up a vase with water for the roses whose pedals you had planned to sprinkle in the bath after dinner. you hang your newly purchased lingerie set in the closet, feeling silly for going out of your way to do all this just to be let down. you changed into pajamas and threw a frozen meal in the microwave, preparing yourself for a day full of sulking and watching reality tv.
you saw that paige had responded to your message, but you turned your phone off, not wanting to respond to her. you sat in front of the tv and put on some shitty show while you pulled out your laptop to do some homework (aka what the writer of this fic should be doing right now instead of writing this 😭). at some point you drift off to sleep.
knock.
u woke with a start, not even realizing you had fallen asleep or how much time had gone by, getting up to answer your door.
it was your girlfriend with a look of worry and annoyance, soaking wet and panting at your doorstep.
“why haven’t you been responding? i called u three times and texted you a bunch???” she questioned you, the worry had mostly faded into annoyance as she realized you were perfectly fine.
“oh, sorry i haven’t been on my phone, i guess i fell asleep” you answered to your very unsatisfied looking girlfriend.
“you can’t just send me some passive aggressive text and then ignore me for two hours. that’s unfair babe, you’d be so upset if i did that to u” she said, exasperated. she was clearly upset with you, but you didn’t care to be honest because you were also upset. you decided then you should tell her how you feel.
“it’s not fair that on your day off you decide to spend time with the teammates you see everyday instead of your girlfriend who you can barely make time to see as is. i understand they’re your best friends and spending time with them is important to you but i was so excited to spend the day with you i even planned a surprise for you and i was just feeling really neglected,” you watch as her expression softens. she walks in, and gives you a hug and kisses your head. you hate to admit it but her display of affection and attention made you feel a lot better.
“you’re absolutely right, baby. i was a dick for that. i had a feeling you were hurt by the way you responded. i just got really worried when you were ignoring me and shit i literally left in the middle of the movie and ran here in the rain” she admits to you, still holding you and running her hand up and down your back. “i didn’t know you had something planned for us. i’m so sorry you must’ve been so disappointed and upset i know that’s how i would’ve felt so i’m so sorry i made you feel that way”
you move to look up into her eyes, sincerity plastered on her face, and your annoyance and anger towards her began to fade away. “it’s okay, you didn’t know that i had planned something for us and i was just being petty. i should’ve told u that i was bothered so it’s my fault for not being honest with you. i was just hurt,” knowing that all it took for you to feel better was admitting how you felt and her apologizing made you feel silly for ignoring her earlier in the day. this could’ve all been avoided if you had just told her how you felt.
“its okay baby i understand. if i'm not too late, id like to make it up to you. what was it that you had planned?” she smiled at you, still holding you in her arms.
“well, i was going to cook you dinner, and then i bought all these roses so we could take a romantic bath together and then, well, i had another surprise for later” you start to blush, remembering the set hanging in your closet that you bought with her in mind. you hide your shy smile by burying your face into her chest.
“oh yeah? what’s that, do i still get that surprise too?” she grinned mischievously, clearly understanding the nature of your last surprise,
“i haven’t decided yet, let’s first see if you can make it up to me,” you joke with her, knowing in the back of your head that the night would end with the set on your body and paige inside you.
“fair enough,” she laughed, also seeming to know the future. “can i help you cook at least? what’s on the menu?” finally breaking the embrace she makes her way to the fridge to look at what you had bought to make dinner.
“i was just gonna make spaghetti and meatballs, you can start the noodles if you want and i can start with the other stuff.” you walk towards her, planting a kiss on her lips, “thank you for coming, P. i love you.”
she smiles and kisses you again, cupping your cheeks in her hands and looking at you endearingly “of course, my sweet girl, i’m excited to spend tonight with you. especially for whatever you have planned at the end of it” she winks and playfully slaps your ass, heading for the cabinet where the pots are to start the water. you bite your lips and blush, knowing what’s in store.
dinner preparation goes smoothly for the most part. other than the two times you stopped for a make out sesh, and paige’s incessant comments about how hot you looked while cooking her dinner. she really knew exactly how to rile you up and it was so infuriating and sexy at the same time.
you are so worked up by paige’s advances and endless flirting that you can barely think at all once you set the table and finally sit down to eat. she knows the effect she’s having on you and that only fuels her more. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re worked up, just wanna make u like this all the time”
“you are beyond annoying paige, seriously, do u enjoy making me suffer?”
“yes,” she deadpans, staring at you with a look that practically undresses you on its own. you cross your legs, feeling the heat in between your legs increasing. if paige notices she doesn’t say anything, and you enjoy the rest of your meal together without anymore teasing.
when dinner is over she insists on cleaning up the mess and even though you try to object she shoos you away. you head into your room with the roses to draw the bath. your stomach stirs knowing you and her will be in it together soon. you add the bath salts, leaving it smelling amazing in the bathroom, and slowly and carefully drop the pedals into the water, desire seeming to rise with each pedal you drop. you finally light a few candles you had brought in the bathroom and turn off the lights.
as if on cue, paige enters the bathroom. looking around the room and then at you. “this is adorable baby. i love it. thank you so much for doing this for me.” she walks over to u and plants a kiss on your lips, her hands meeting either side of your waist as she looks in your eyes. your heart melts.
you break away from her and begin to undress, and her eyes never move from you as you take each piece of clothing off. her piercing stare making the color of your cheeks pink. once fully undressed you make your way into the bath, the hot water shocking your skin and not helping your growing desire for the blonde girl whose gaze was still fixed on you. you look at her, wanting her to join you so you can finally touch her. she understands and undresses as well smirking at you as you stare shyly at her beautiful body.
“like what you see?” she teases you as she pulls her final layers off, her naked body on full display in front of you.
“i’d like it a lot better if you were in here with me, hurry up” you say impatiently, wanting to touch her so badly. she finally joins you, scooting to the back and leaning on the bath walls, opening her legs so you can lay in between them. you allow her body to engulf yours as you lay the back of your head on her chest, savoring every inch of her skin that’s in contact with yours.
“you’re so pretty baby, can’t believe you’re all mine” she moves your hair away from your neck and places soft kisses along it, trailing down to your shoulder. soft whimpers leave your mouth as your body reacts to her touch, each kiss intensifying the desire that's been brewing all night. "have i made it up to you yet baby?" she whispers in your ear.
your brain goes fuzzy, barely able to think with her sinful lips and voice in your ear, "i'm not sure, i think there might be something else you could do to make it up to me" you try to tease her, but your voice betrays you as it comes out breathless and in between moans.
she laughs, and then whispers again in a low and seductive voice "oh yeah? whats that baby? tell me" she ghosts her finger around your nipple with one hand, and traces circles around the sensitive parts of your stomach, all while continuing to kiss your neck. you are fully gone at this point, shamelessly whining while she works you into total submission.
"cant. not right now. the last surprise. still need to show you." you are so worked up and words are not coming easy at all. you desperately want to get out of the bath and into your set so she can fuck you senseless in bed.
“okay baby, we can get out now. wanna go get that surprise ready?” she puts her hands on your shoulder and stops kissing your neck, you let out a whine at the absence of her touch, but find yourself slowly coming back to reality.
“yes, you wait in here and drain the water and i’ll let you know when you can come in” you say, making your way out of the bath and wrapping a towel around your figure. she nods and pulls the drain while getting out of the bath.
once in your room with the bathroom door shut, you make your way over to your closet and pull out the set you bought. it’s a light purple babydoll slip dress and a matching thong, there’s a bow in the bra part that can be untied to uncover your tits. you bite your lip as you feel your pussy get wet just thinking about her reaction. slowly, you put it on, making sure everything is in order and the bow is pretty for her, even though you know it won’t be tied for long.
“okay. you can come out now, i’m ready” you stand awkwardly, impatiently awaiting her presence and reaction to you. she opens the door and her mouth drops as soon as her eyes meet you. she stands there for a while, unable to say or do anything in awe of you.
“you’re amazing” she says, eyes running you up and down as she takes you in. she is star struck.
“come here and touch me please. make up for today” you whine, feeling so small under her gaze and so needy for her touch. she walks over to you, fingers touching all over you as she gazes at you perplexed.
“so fucking beautiful, all for me” she whispers, one hand cupping your cheek and another snaking its way down your back to grab your ass. her hand moves to the bow covering your chest, and slowly, she pulls the cloth until it unravels and your tits are on full display for her. she shamelessly stares at them, fondling one in her hand and running her thumb around your nipple, eliciting the most obscene noises from you as she does so. "your tits are a masterpiece, cant believe theyre all mine," she admits. both of her hands grip your thighs as she hoists you into her arms and lays you down on the bed, fully on top of you. "want me to fuck you in this baby? is that what you want?" she asks you, hands running up and down your thighs.
"yes. paige. oh my god please." you beg, laying all your desires out in front of her as you let her take full control. she kisses you passionately, hands traveling the expanse of your body and touching you in all of your most sensitive spots.
"so worked up for me huh? tell me how i can make it up to you baby, i'll do whatever you say", she says in a low voice in between kisses, hands traveling dangerously close to the place you need them most as she plays with the band of your panties.
"please fuck me paige, i need you in me right now" you beg, barely holding it together. her hands grab your underwear and she pulls them off of you, leaving your wet and throbbing pussy on full display. her fingers slide in between your folds, rubbing your clit and feeling your wetness.
"youre soaking baby, all because of me yeah? im gonna fuck you so good my sweet girl, make you forget all about what happened" you can barely hear her lude remarks as she rubs your clit. you fear you wont last long with how good her fingers are making you feel.
she slips two fingers in you, your wetness allowing them entrance with ease, she curls her fingers in you as your walls clench around them, touching your sensitive spot as she does so. your hips rut in reaction and moan her name loudly as she rakes in and out of you, "thats my good girl, so fucking loud for me," her pace quickens as she feels you tightening up against her. she knows youre close and is making no effort to prolong your orgasm, wanting to make you feel as good as possible. she moves her thumb to rub up and down against your clit, increasing the sensation as your body reacts to both points of contact.
you were so close, your body in her full control and needing release. "paige. please, faster. im gonna come" you plead. she moves right next to you and sucks on your neck while speeding up her pace inside of you,
"anything for you baby, you can come for me, i love you so much." she whispers, pace quickening as her fingers travel deeper inside of you .
her voice in your ear telling you to come is all you need to send you over the edge. you moan her name as you orgasm and she continues whispering, "so so good, all mine, love how you feel when you come. you look so beautiful right now baby" she slows her pace as you ride out your orgasm, kissing your neck as she continues talking you through it.
as you feel the waves of pleasure subside and you start to come back to your senses, you kiss her for a long time, whimpering in her mouth at the same time. she slowly pulls her fingers out of you, pushing them in your mouth as you lick up your mess. she lays down next to you, holding you in her arms.
"yeah. you definitely made it up to me" you say looking at her and pecking her lips.
"oh, there's more where that came from. i'm all yours tonight baby." she smiles, hand cupping your cheek as she kisses you lovingly.
it was going to be a long night.
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katiexpunk · 8 days
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Scarlet Haze - Part 2
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~6.2K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Series Summary: Life in the QZ was fairly predictable. That was, until Joel Miller showed up on your doorstep covered in blood. Since then, you've helped him more times than you can count. Now it's his turn to return the favor.
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Series Warnings: SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. Set in the TLOU universe in the Boston QZ. Buckle the fuck up for a lot of filthy, feral smut. Check chapter warnings for specifics. This series will follow them through current day.
Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Blood. Sexual tension. Bloody knuckles/wounded Joel. Flirting. Alcohol. Male masturbation. Voyeurism. Pearl Jam. Drug-seeking behavior. Medical references. Crying. Hallucinations similar to a drug high. Euphoria. Damsel in distress trope. Pet names. Praise kink. Begging. Unprotected P in V. Oral (female receiving). Fingering. Use of daddy. Age gap (make it your own!). No use of Y/N. Reader has no physical descriptions. Let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Surprise! It's here early (probably the only time you'll be glad something came early). Part 2 as part of my contribution to @morallyinept's Flora and Fauna Challenge. Part 3 coming 5/19.
Part 1 | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications
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“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.” ― Stephen Chbosky
Joel Miller is a bad man. 
It wasn’t always this way – there was a time when he thought he was good, kind even, a gentleman through and through, just like his momma raised him to be. 
But those days are long gone. Nowadays, the things he does are far from decent.
What he’s doing right now tops the list.
He should avoid it. He knows he should. 
Whatever this feeling is, it’s entirely alien to him—like a cocktail of a thousand potent drugs coursing through his veins, igniting an instinctive physical response. His heart pounds furiously, and a searing heat prickles his skin. He feels lightheaded, probably from the blood rushing anywhere and everywhere except for his brain. 
He tries to reason with himself that he can wait— he should wait. Wait for you to wake up, do your typical doctor business, pull out a magic pill or some bullshit, and you’ll both be well on your way. 
He should wait. A good man would wait. 
But then you started whimpering. 
Fucking whimpering. 
It was soft, just a whisper; he almost second-guessed it, but then you said his name clear as day, drawing him closer to the edge of control.
“Joel, please,” you moan, spread out on the dusty sheets, lost in a daydream he wishes he was part of, totally unaware of your actions.
He palms himself through his denim, hips titled forward as he sits on a wood chair that he’s not all too convinced can bear his weight after years of abandonment, but he could give two shits about that right now. 
“Yes, oh god, yes, just like that,” you moan again, your hand inching closer to your center, chasing friction of any kind. He wonders if you’re wet right now, how sweet you must taste. 
Fuck it. 
If he's destined for hell, he might as well make it worth the trip.
He unhooks his belt and yanks down his zipper, forcefully pulling his pants down to bunch around the muscular expanse of his thighs
Heavy cock in hand, he takes a second to admire it. It’s a fat, healthy one with a little curve to the left and a prominent vein running up the side. He’s a blessed man – in this regard, anyway. 
He rises to full attention, and his hand rises with it, thick, strong fingers just about meeting his thumb as they curl around him. He savors the first proper stroke, the shift from teasing to relief. 
He’s so fucking hard. He’s not sure he’s ever been this hard. 
His skin feels like velvet wrapped around steel. Even at the end of the world, hell, even before it, he’s not sure touching himself has ever felt like this. 
As the edges of his vision begin to soften and blur, he focuses on you. He empties his mind into thoughts of you and only you – how good you’d feel, your tight cunt wrapped around him, creaming on him as you chant his name like a prayer. 
Fuck.
His head falls back to lean against the wall, eyes tightly shut, his hand still working as he conjures up images of you bent over for him as he watches his cock slide in and out of your wet heat. 
It feels like his whole system has been turned on, his body flooded with adrenaline, the frantic thud of his pulse in his ears now palpable against his palm, too.
Just then, you blink open your eyes, and the remnants of your daydream evaporate like a mist in the morning sun. For a moment, you’re unsure where you are, the room spinning gently in your haze. 
The last thing you remember is being in the flower field with him, and now you’re on a bed that hasn’t seen a warm body in over a decade. How did he? 
You drop the thought when you feel the air, thick with a heavy, sweet scent that tugs at the edges of your consciousness. You feel hot, every nerve ending tingling uncomfortably. Breathing feels difficult, each breath deep and labored. It’s as if your lungs are struggling under a heavy weight, a need you can’t quite pinpoint. 
Your gaze slowly shifts from the ceiling to the corner of the room, and that's when you spot him. 
Sunlight streams through the grime-streaked windows, casting beams that light up the swirling dust in the air. As your eyes adjust, the details come into sharp focus, cutting through the haze in your mind like a knife. 
Oh. He’s — 
 You must still be dreaming; you must. There’s no way this is happening. 
Your stomach flutters and flips, enough physical proof that you see what you think you do.
You take a moment to admire him, his cock, the glistening precum that’s gathered at the tip of it, the soft groans coming from his chest. The way his thick neck is angeled back perfectly presents his Adam's apple and the nape of his throat. 
You adjust to prop yourself up slightly. 
"Joel," you coo, his name dripping from your lips like nectar from a flower. 
He pauses at the sound of your voice, and time suspends for a moment. If he weren’t so fucked out, he might think to stop what he’s doing, might even feel embarrassed that he was caught. 
But right now, part of him wants you to watch. When he tilts his head up, you’re staring at him with a look he can’t quite place, but holy fuck, you’re beautiful. 
Seeing your own lust-filled eyes, knowing you're watching what he’s doing to himself, consumes him. 
“See what you do to me,” he groans, holding your stare as he fucks his fist, jaw slack and balls tight. 
It’s so intense. He’s intense. 
“Wanna see you,” he rasps, and you’re more than happy to oblige.
You work to undo the buttons of your jeans, desperate to touch yourself – dazed and dizzy. 
You haven’t even touched him and you’re already cock drunk, tipsy with the need to touch him. You can’t stop it, not even if you tried. It feels like this moment was always meant to happen, and everything in life—the good and the bad — has led up to it. 
Feeling a sudden surge of boldness, you stand to walk over to him, but the floor rushes up unexpectedly. As gravity claims you, a different kind of pull—a magnetic force you've felt since the night you met him—lingers in your mind. 
You think you hear him call your name as the ceiling swirls into shades of red, patterns like a kaleidoscope painted behind your lids, and you’re living that night again before you can be sure. 
++++
Boston QZ, Fall 2022
The bar's dim lights hardly penetrate the thick air and despair that seems to stick to everything inside the QZ. You shove open the heavy metal door and step inside. The noise—a mix of wood chairs scraping against the ground and low conversations—briefly spikes before settling as the door thuds shut behind you. 
It's been a long, tough shift at the clinic, leaving you feeling bone tired.
The bar—if you can even call it that—has a worn appeal. As your eyes get used to the dimness, you head straight for the counter. 
The bartender, a middle-aged guy with a scar trailing down his cheek like a tear track, gives you a quick nod in greeting. “Hey, Tom,” you greet him with a tired smile. “I’ll have a chardonnay.”
Tom chuckles, wiping down a glass with a rag that has seen better days. 
“Doc,” he nods. “Best I can do is beer. Got a fresh batch that’s more hops than rust this time.”
“Sold,” you laugh, settling onto a stool and pushing him one of your ration cards. “Make it a cold one, if you can remember what cold feels like.”
Your eyes drift across the bar as Tom turns to fetch your drink. That’s when you notice him—a rugged man nursing a beer, his presence almost as worn as the leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders. 
His knuckles are raw, the skin split, and a dark bruise blooms around his left eye. It’s an impressive shiner that catches your attention more than it probably should.
You lean slightly on the bar, the wood cool under your arms, and a half-smile forms on your lips when you catch his eye. “You really should have someone check that out,” you say, nodding toward his hand, the flirtation in your voice unmistakable.
His eyes assess you momentarily, weighing your words, maybe even your presence here talking to him.
He curls his right hand into a fist, the skin tight and pale over the knuckles. “This?” His voice, rough as gravel, carries a hint of nonchalance. “It’ll heal eventually.” As he speaks, his words stretch out with a slow Southern drawl, wrapped in a weariness you can almost touch.
“Must have been quite the fight,” you remark, accepting the beer Tom slides in front of you. “Or a really stubborn door.” 
A trace of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. 
“Something like that.”
“You know,” you continue, sipping the beer and finding it surprisingly not terrible, “I’m pretty good with stitches and less good with doors. If you ever need a hand…”
His dark eyes flick back to you, pausing on your lips, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
You sip your drink, the corners of your lips twitching upward slightly. Turning to face him fully, you let your eyes roam over his features, openly appreciating the chisel of his jaw and the facial hair that covers it. He’s handsome. 
He doesn’t ask for your name, but the silence feels like an invitation. Leaning a bit closer, you raise an eyebrow playfully. "And you are?" your voice lilts at the end, lingering on the anticipation.
"Joel Miller," he says, his voice a deep rumble that cuts through the bar noise. His handshake is firm but careful as if he's mindful not to hurt despite the roughness of his hands.
"Joel Miller—I like that," you reply, holding his gaze a little longer than necessary, your hand still clasped in his. You gently turn his hand to inspect the battered knuckles, not having to work hard to imagine the sting you know he feels.
A shout from across the bar catches your attention; your friends are waving you over. You turn towards them, but he continues to look at you. When you turn back to him, he drops your hand quickly, almost like you burned him.
"Well, Joel Miller, I guess I'll see you around," you say with a hint of promise.
He nods, “Maybe so.” 
As you walk away, you feel his thoughtful, dark, and hungry eyes still fixed on you. 
The intensity of his stare sends a shiver down your spine as you move toward the laughter and warmth of your friends waiting at a table near the back.
You feel the pull of curiosity that makes you want to look back, but you don’t. 
++++
Later that week, you’re pulling a late night at the clinic. 
"Fuck," you moan, bringing your hands to your temples and rubbing them slightly. You're exhausted. When are you not?
You don't have a clock in the clinic, but you know it's probably close to curfew. Every cell in your body tells you to go home, but you ignore it. At least you have the peeling paint and the constant drip from a leaky faucet to keep you company.
You’re restocking a shelf in the lobby when the front door slams open violently. A man staggers in, his eyes bloodshot, clothes tattered, and reeking of what you don’t even want to know. You straighten up and quickly reach into your coat pocket, your grip finding a scalpel from earlier. Using your thumb, you work to remove the cap and position it between your fingers should you need to use it.
"I need some meds," he growls, slamming his fists down on the reception desk. "The strong stuff, now!"
"Sir, I need you to calm down," you say, trying to keep your voice even despite the adrenaline surge. "I can help, but first, you need to tell me what's wrong."
"Listen here you little bitch, I don’t need advice; I need fucking pills!" he bellows, his voice echoing off the walls. Suddenly, he lunges over the counter, grabbing your arm with a firm grip. 
You struggle to pull away, but he’s too strong. You try your scalpel, but he slaps it away. Panic spikes as he twists your arm behind your back and slams you against the counter. Pain shoots through your shoulder, sharp and blinding.
Just then, the door to the clinic bursts open with a force that makes the entire room shake. You barely have time to register the figure rushing in, his movements fast and determined.
And then you see him. 
Joel Miller. 
His expression is set in a hard line, eyes pinpointing the man pinning you down. Without a word, he grabs the man by the collar and yanks him away from you. The man flails, trying to swing at Joel, but he’s too quick, too angry. He lands a solid punch to the man's jaw, sending him reeling backward into one of the shelves. 
"You okay?" he asks, turning to you with concern etched on his face. His hands are still clenched into fists.
Breathing heavily, you nod, rubbing your bruised arm. The pain is sharp, and you know you'll be feeling it tomorrow, but you’re relieved to be free from the man's grasp. 
"I think so?" you manage to say, trying to steady your voice as you back away from the counter to put some distance between yourself and the now-groaning figure on the floor.
Joel’s eyes find the man as he slowly picks himself up, giving him a warning glare that promises more if he tries anything again. "Come in here again, and I’ll make sure a broken jaw is the least of your worries," he threatens. Is he always this intense? The man, clutching his jaw and mumbling curses, stumbles out of the clinic.
Once gone, Joel turns back to you, his expression softening. "Let me look at your arm," he says, gently taking it in his hands, his touch careful as he examines the bruising.
“Playing doctor today, are we?" you tease with a smirk.
Joel's chuckle rumbles low and warm, melting some of the tension from your shoulders.
"I'm not, but you could've fooled me," he replies, his touch light as he examines your arm. His eyes hold a soft concern that seems at odds with his typically rugged exterior. 
“Didn’t know you were a doctor.” 
"Do a lot of women at the bar tell you they’re good at giving stitches?" you quip, watching his reaction.
“Alright, smartass, point taken," he teases, releasing your arm. You gently massage the sore skin.
"How did you know I was in trouble?" 
Joel leans against the counter, his brow set as he watches you rub your arm. 
"Let's just say I've got good instincts.”
"Instincts, huh?" You say, stepping closer. "I suppose next you’ll say that it was just my luck that you happened to wander by when you did?” 
His eyes lock with yours.
"I think you're lucky I came when I did," he agrees, his tone serious now.
"Yeah," you agree, a wave of gratitude washing over you. The clinic is suddenly quiet, and you both look at each other momentarily. Everything suddenly feels heavy.
“Too bad there’s no lottery anymore—I could've used some of that luck earlier,” you joke. Stupid.
Joel shakes his head, eyes still scanning your face, perhaps looking for injuries you hadn't mentioned. 
"Really, you should be more careful," he chides. "It’s not safe to be out here alone this close to curfew."
"I usually manage fine," you assert, trying not to let his concern make you feel like you can't handle your job. "Tonight was just... unexpected."
"Doesn't mean it won't happen again. You should think about having someone here with you during late shifts," Joel suggests, his voice low and insistent.
You consider his words, knowing he's right, but it’s also not like people in the QZ are lining up to care for people who aren’t themselves.
Joel seems to read your mind. "Just promise me you'll be careful," he says, stepping back, giving you space. His eyes still hold that fierce protective glint.
"I promise.”
Joel nods once, satisfied. "Good.”
You give him another small smile and think he sees the thank you behind it. 
He nods again, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns to leave. As he walks towards the door, you watch him go, feeling a mix of emotions—appreciation, relief, and that same magnetic pull from last night. 
“Joel?” you call out, halting his steps. “You like whiskey?” 
Joel turns, a curious arch lifting his brow as he shifts from his reserved demeanor. 
"Yeah, I like whiskey," he replies. "Why, you offering?"
A playful smile dances on your lips.
"Maybe I am," you say, considering for a moment. "How about a thank-you drink? My place isn't far."
For a moment, Joel just looks at you, assessing. 
"Lead the way, Doc,” he says, his voice carrying a warmth you haven’t heard before.
++++ 
You unlock the door to your unit, stepping aside to let him in. "Make yourself comfortable," you say, gesturing vaguely towards the living room. Joel nods and walks through the threshold. As he passes, you notice that he smells slightly sweet and smoky, with a rich, woody undertone. 
He takes a seat on the worn couch that’s a carry over from the 80’s, it creaks under his weight. He settles back, his knees spreading wide, and makes himself at home.
Heading into the kitchen, you rummage through the cabinets before finding an old bottle of whiskey. You don’t own any glasses. 
You call out to Joel, "I hope you don’t mind sharing with me." You unscrew the cap, take a swig directly from the bottle, and feel the warm burn of the alcohol as it slides down your throat.
You cough. “It's not great, but it’s the best I’ve got.”  
Carrying the bottle back to the living room, you pass it to Joel with a playful wink. "Your turn," you say, watching him take his swig with an approving nod. He takes a moment to assess the bottle; not bad for decade-old Tennessee whiskey. 
As he drinks, you walk over to a shelf cluttered with various knickknacks and pull out an old battery-powered CD player. Rifling through the modest stack of CDs you’ve traded more ration cards for than you care to admit, you pull out the one you're after and slide it into the player. 
As the first chords of Pearl Jam's "Alive" reverberate through the room, Joel's head swivels, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Holy shit. Pearl Jam?" he says, his voice tinged with surprise.
"You know ‘em?" you respond, settling beside him on the couch.
He looks at you with a you’ve got to be serious look.
“Yeah, darlin’, I know ‘em. Pretty sure I was listening to them before you were even born.” 
“Oh please,” you laugh, gently elbowing him in the ribs as you snatch the whiskey bottle back. “I’m not that young.” “Pretty sure I’m old enough to be your daddy,” he looks at you. You’re not sure who moved closer, you or him. You feel the solid warmth of his thigh pressed firmly against yours, sending a spark through you.
You turn and look up at him through your lashes.
“Is that what you want to be?” You feel a little thrill as you watch his pupils dilate, and his jaw tightens. 
You take another swig from the bottle, and his eyes linger on your lips and the shine from the amber liquid on them. “My daddy,” you emphasize the word daddy with a suggestive tone. His hands flex on his thighs. You can tell he’s holding back, trying to maintain composure. He blushes a little; you notice. 
Your words hang in the air. You decide to go easy on him. For now. 
“I’m just fucking with you; that’s not really my thing,” you lie. You take another sip from the bottle, and you feel the alcohol coursing through your veins, your cheeks warming from the combination of the whiskey and his burning gaze. Your muscles feel a little gooey, and your bones feel lighter. 
“All yours, cowboy,” you say, passing him the bottle. His left-hand kitten kisses yours as he grabs it, and even though it was just a brief touch, you still feel it afterward. You bring your free hand to his resting on his thigh. His knuckles have started to heal, but scabs still linger. 
“You gonna tell me how you got this for real this time?” Your fingers gently explore the rough texture of his skin, tracing the prominent veins that stand out beneath. He clenches his hand into a fist, looking at you with an intensity that suggests you don’t want to know. 
"Alright Miller, keep your secrets then," you murmur playfully, leaning in so your side body is pressed against his arm. You gently pluck the bottle from his grasp and set it aside on the table. Sliding onto his lap, you straddle him, your thighs framing his sides.
“Wh – what are you doin’?”
"If you won't tell me, the least you can do is kiss me," you suggest, your fingers weaving through his hair, using it to tilt him up to look at you. His eyes flicker to your lips, and his hand cradles your face as you inch nearer. His thumb brushes softly across your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His touch wanders, trailing from your neck to your waist, each movement charged with tension.
Suddenly, he shifts, flipping you onto your back with a smooth motion. Your back hits the cushions and a small oof escapes your lungs. Your thighs are still bracketing him. The pressure of his hips against your center makes your insides flutter.
“You’re a needy little thing, arentcha?” 
Mhmm, you moan, cupping his face, trying to pull him closer to you. The hardness you feel pressed up on your hips makes you a little desperate. 
God, you’re perfect, he thinks. So warm and willing, making it so easy for him. 
You’ve been fairly obvious in your flirting with him. He hasn’t been with a woman in a while, but he sure as shit wasn’t born yesterday. A voice in his mind tells him this might be the liquor talking, not you. Or worse, he thinks you might feel like you owe him something for helping you out earlier. 
He wants you, but not like this. 
"I think you're a little drunk, darlin'," he whispers, his voice low and teasing. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, noses so close they touch. 
“So what if I am?” you giggle. 
“Kiss me, Miller.” His eyes fall to your lips.
You close your eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead.
"I should go," he murmurs, pulling away and standing up. "Get some sleep," he adds, his voice mingling with the music. Before you can reach for him, he's out the door, leaving you wet, tipsy, and confused. 
By the time Joel returned to his unit, the ache in his jeans was almost too much to bear. 
He fucked his hand twice that night, once to the thought of how you felt on top of him, your hips rocking into his, and the other to the thought of what your lips might feel like pressed against his. 
He wanted to kiss you. He wants to kiss you. 
And while his cock might have other thoughts on the matter, he’s never been one to take advantage. Joel knows he’s a bad man, but he’s not bad enough to do that to you. 
He’s done many hard things, but walking away from you at that moment might be near the top of the list. 
++++ 
You feel his fingers on your forearm, gently tracing up and down on the skin there when you open your eyes. He’s sitting on the bed next to you. His voice, a heavy mix of concern and warmth now, steadies your spinning world. You try and sit up. What the actual fuck is happening? Wasn’t he…just?
"Hey, take it easy," Joel murmurs, guiding you gently back against the pillows.
As you settle, the dizzying spin of the room slows, and you're met with Joel's intense stare. He's studying you, his eyes flickering with a mixture of unease and something deeper, something unspoken. 
"You okay?" His voice is a soft murmur, barely rising above the whistle from the broken window across the room.
You nod, but your heart feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest —not just from the disorienting fall, but from the closeness of him. The magnetic pull you've felt since the beginning is more palpable now, impossible to ignore. You blink away the last clouds of your dizziness and focus on him. His shirt clings to him, damp with sweat; his usually neat hair begins to curl at the edges, and there's a tightness in his expression that mirrors the pain you feel.
You’re aching, not in your muscles or bones; no, it’s deeper than that. It's like the pull of a wave threatening to take you under tow. 
"Yeah, just,” you sigh. “Joel, I feel so weird," you manage to say, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m so hot,” you say, and admitting it out loud overwhelms you.
“I know, baby, me too,” Joel responds softly, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder,
He’s so sweet and tender. The nickname lingers in your mind and plays on a loop. 
Baby. Baby. 
Warmth spreads up from your chest, a burning sensation that lodges behind your ribcage, familiar yet overwhelming. Tears start to prick your eyes, and before you can hold them back, they stream down your face.
You're crying now, not just from the discomfort but from everything—the closeness, the concern in his voice, the way he keeps calling you baby, and the deep ache it all stirs within you.
“Stupid fucking flower,” you say through your tears. 
“What’s that now?” 
“In the field—the flower, the colorful one I showed you. I didn’t know what it was at first, but then I remembered reading about it in a book about herbal remedies.”
“And you think this flower has something to do with what’s wrong with us right now?” he questions. 
“I don’t remember what it’s called, but I remember reading a warning about it –” 
He doesn’t say anything; he just looks at you, patiently waiting for you to finish your thought. 
“The flower,” you sniffle. “Well, the sap and pollen of the flower, I should say, have some strange side effects if ingested or put into the bloodstream…” 
“Go on, baby.” 
There it is again. Baby. 
“It causes extreme arousal, light-headedness, and a shit ton of other things I don’t remember.” 
“Oh. Well, that explains –” 
“Yeah,” you cut him off, already knowing what he wanted to say. You use the back of your hand to wipe away some moisture from your face, but there’s no point; you still feel the tears falling. You close your eyes and try to will the discomfort from your mind. 
“It's okay, darlin'," he murmurs, "I’m here. We'll just let it run its course, alright?" His arms envelop you, drawing you tightly against the solid warmth of his chest. Gently, he cradles the curve of your head in his hand, the rhythm of his heartbeat steady against your ear. You open your eyes, and through your wet vision, you look down and see that he’s still hard. 
“Joel, I –”  his hand floats to the column of your neck, holding you to look at him.
“What do you need, baby?” 
“I need you to fuck me.” 
Shit. No going back now.
“I can’t do that. We’re not in the right state of mind. I don’t want to take advan–” 
“Joel, please,” you say through your tears. 
He looks at you like he’s at war with his mind and body; your desperate doe eyes stare back at him. 
His cock twitches.
He’s been in pain ever since you hit the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to finish after you passed out again. How could he? He was too worried about you. Every fiber of his being was screaming to cum, but the concern he held for you overrode it all. 
“Joel, I’m begging you,” you plead.
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes, yeah—yes. Joel, I need you,” you respond quickly, already moving to drag the unbuttoned jeans off your body. He’s still unmoving, and his body feels like molasses—viscous and sluggish. You’ve rid yourself of your shirt when you command his attention again, “Joel!” 
“Fuck, yeah – okay,” he takes off his shirt, and you help him with his buckle. He undoes his jeans once more while you make quick work of removing your bra and underwear, leaving yourself bare in front of him.
“Lay back, baby, need to taste you.” You do as he says, letting your knees fall to the sides until you’re spread open for him. He comes to his knees on the bed, the mattress groaning under his weight. 
“God damn, darlin’ — could cum just from lookin’ at you like this,” he says, stroking his cock. You thought he was big when you saw him in the corner, but seeing him this close, really seeing him, is another story. 
He collapses onto his stomach between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. Gently, he presses his lips to the tender flesh of your inner thigh, delivering a playful nip that sends a shiver through you.
“Wanna taste you – you have no idea how bad I want to taste you,” he groans as he breathes in your scent, the tip of his aquiline nose bumps against your clit. You’re so keyed up already, a dripping mess for him, your aching clit just begging for a bit of attention. 
He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. He clamps his eyes shut and groans. “So fuckin’ sweet, baby.”
Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your mound and then gently parts his lips, allowing his tongue to lick through your dripping folds. 
“Please,” You cry, with one hand gripping the worn fabric of the bedspread and one tugging on his messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth. 
“I’ll take care of you, baby, don’t worry, ‘m here,” he whispers before returning his attention to you.
Your vision fills with glittering spots while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, you think, but you can’t be sure; your sense of time is fully warped. 
He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their death grip on the fabric. You feel your peak approaching. It feels different, like euphoria injected straight into your veins. 
Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick fingers into your wet heat.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he mumbles against your skin. He picks up his pace and then adds another finger, one your greedy cunt happily accepts. He hooks them slightly so they’re pressing against the spongey spot inside you that you can never seem to reach yourself. 
“Come on, baby. Wanna feel you.”
His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and then tension inside you releases all at once, snaps, and hurtles you into another dimension.
As if the cosmos has poured all its beauty into a single moment, the wave of your orgasm breaks—an explosion of white light, pure and cleansing, sweeping away all that came before, cooling the fire raging inside of you.
Joel works you through it, his fingers keeping a steady rhythm as you come down, coated in a gentle rain of shimmering particles, bathed in a serene and growing peace, and you catch your breath. 
“I’ve–I’ve never felt anything like that,” you pant, “That was amazing.”
“It was pretty pretty to watch, too,” he tells you, rising between your legs. His hand comes to his cock again, holding it by the base. He’s furiously hard, the tip of him drooling, the color of it a deep, rich shade of violet.
“I need you, baby, so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, voice wrecked. 
You spread your legs open a little wider for him, bringing your hands to your knees, spreading your glistening cunt open for him. 
“She’s all yours,” you coo, and he’s on you. He arranges himself above you, his forearms taking the brunt of his weight, yet the impressive heft of him presses down, enveloping you in his presence. His broadness looms, an expansive canopy; he eclipses your view, and all that exists in this moment is him. You wrap your fingers around his midsection, and he lines the tip of himself up with your wet and waiting hole. 
“You’re mine,” he tells you like it’s a fact, not a statement, as he pushes his hips forward and buries his cock deep inside of you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. There’s a dull sting, but it quickly dissipates as he pulls out of you slowly and then thrusts forward again. The slow drag of his cock against your walls, the tip of it kissing your cervix, sends you into a frenzy. 
“Faster – ah shit, harder –” you moan and he begins to ravage you without mercy, kissing and nipping at the razor edge of your jaw, the tip of your chin. Your moans are muffled against his skin, cries of pleasure that rise in pitch with each thrust forward. 
“Mmm, you’re so warm,” he huffs and moans above you as he fucks away at your tight core. “Feels so good, not gonna last long like this. Tight little pussy’s choking me too good.” 
The familiar, odd sensation washes over you again, that strange mix of feeling both insubstantial and overwhelmingly heavy. It's as if you're simultaneously a feather, drifting weightlessly, and a boulder, rooted deeply and immovably. This feeling lifts and anchors you, leaving you floating between reality and a dreamlike state.
You focus on the feeling of his thrusts.
Back and forth. 
In and out. 
Back and forth. 
In and out. 
You’re drunk off it, off him.  
He snakes his hand behind your body to grab your ass for extra leverage, allowing him to slam into you harder, his hips thrusting against yours. The thatch of dark hair at the base of him rubs up against your swollen clit.  You feel like you’re getting fucked into near unconsciousness, your eyes heavy and half-lidded. 
“Joel,” you moan, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’m so close, oh my god, please.”
Joel’s eyes roll shut as you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, holding on for dear life as he fucks you like a man possessed.
“That’s it baby, beg for it,” he tells you, and you do.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you cry out, “Daddy, please.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Joel groans as he feels your walls clamp down on him, your orgasm gripping you like a fever.
“Good fucking girl,” he praises. 
Tears once again stream from your face, this time from pleasure, as he splits you open even more. 
He repositions, bringing your knees to your chest, holding them together with his strong arms as he continues to push in and out of you. 
The tension builds, a gathering storm within him. Every nerve seems to tighten, coil, ready to spring. His world narrows and blurs until there’s only you and the tight feel of your pussy around him. 
“Gonna come,” he tells you, and his thrusts slow.
His breath catches, and he quickly pulls out of you. Then, the release comes— your legs fall to the sides again, and a spray of his cum lands on you, hot thick ropes of it drooling from his cock. 
He’s floored by relief, pleasure radiating through his body. It's like watching the sky split open with light after a storm—vivid, raw, and beautifully clear. 
The aftermath is quiet, a soft descent back into himself, marked by a satisfying stillness. 
He drops to the bed beside you, and you both stare at the ceiling, breathless, nothing but prey ensnared in a web of desire.  He looks at you, his deep brown eyes now soft and satisfied.
“So…Daddy, huh?”
Part 3 - Coming 5/19
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A/N Continued: Okay ngl, I am down so bad for these two. If you are, too, I would really appreciate a comment or a reblog. Your feedback and interaction really are so special to me. Tags: @syd-djarin @endlessthxxghts @thereaperisabitch @caramilena @promptly-mercy @alex-does-art-things @swankyorange @ayishahislost @bensonispunk @doblasftcisco @lizlil @pigeonmama @sullyselena @deansimpalagirl @theelectricmind @pedropascalsbbg @laramc-02 @elegantduckturtle @rainbow12346 @senoratess @eff4freddie @auteurdelabre @yxtkiwiyxt @javipispunk @reedrchards @miller-n-morgan @sawymredfox @casa-boiardi @punkshort @pastawench @survivingandenduring @aspecialgreenie @puduvallee @moel-jiller @sheepdogchick3
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rainyyynightssss · 1 month
Text
Twisted Wonderland
Reacting to you having trouble with other students
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Characters: Trey, Jade, Floyd, Rook
Notes: Some violence
Trey Clover
You sit next to Trey at a library table, shoulders brushing up against each other as you both look at the textbooks splayed across the surface. You had been having trouble some of your classwork and it seemed harder than usual since you come from a world without magic. Trey, noticing your struggles, offered to help you study which was a compromise since you first asked to copy his notes.
You've been trying to focus on the notes and tips he's giving you instead of the lingering touches as he directs your hand to the next page, or the small praises he gives you after getting a question right, or his soft breath on your cheek as he leans close to check your work. No, you've been diligently studying and not feeling any kind of heat in your face.
"And what about this one?" Trey asks as he taps his finger on the open page in the textbook. You look down at the words and think for a moment.
"Um..so sublimation is...turning solids into gas...without having to go through the liquid phase?" You half-guess. Trey smiles and hands you another chocolate covered candy that he had called 'motivation'.
"Right again. You're better at this than you think." He says as he flips the pages over to the next question. You sigh and rest your face on your hand.
"I really should be compensated for all this trouble." You mention.
"The trouble of doing your work?" Trey chuckles, "I can whip something up for you later. Your favorite, of course." He winks.
Just as you're about to launch into a discussion about your favorite dessert, something hard is knocked into the back of your head. You whip around and find a couple of Heartslabyul boys passing behind you. One of them is holding a heavy book and smirking while the other two try to hide their snickers behind their hands.
You have no idea what you could have done to these boys. Sometimes just breathing was enough to piss off students at Night Raven College.
"Whoops. Wasn't paying attention." One of the boys says flippantly as he shifts the book to his other arm, nearly smacking you again. You rub the back of your head, ready to tell them off when one of them eyes the bag of candies on the table.
"Oh, Trey! Can we have some? Please!" The boy begs and his friends follow suit. Trey stares at them with a blank look for a few moments before smiling.
"Sure. Here you go," He hands them a handful of the chocolate candies each, "They taste better if you eat them all at once."
The Heartslabyul boys run off after receiving the candy without a thank you or an apology. You narrow your eyes at Trey.
"Awfully kind of you to give candy to my assailants." You sigh dramatically but Trey shakes his head.
"Something tells me they won't be enjoying this treat." He smiles again.
Suddenly, across the room, you can hear a chorus of "ewwww"'s followed by some coughing and gagging. You gape and turn back towards Trey.
"What did you change the taste to?" You ask in interest but he merely winks at you.
"I have no clue. It's just supposed to be chocolate." He responds innocently. His smile turns into a frown as he gently rubs the back of your head where you were hit.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more. Though if it's any consolation, Riddle will probably deal with them after he finds out just how severe their lack of manners are." Trey offers.
You think his caresses on your head like you're something that needs care is consolation enough. But you don't say that, instead leaving your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. Trey closes the textbooks and wraps an arm around your waist, done with studying for today but he didn't need an excuse to want to hang out with you.
Jade Leech
You finish taking a couple's order down on the notepad Azul provided to you and walk back towards the kitchen. You've been taking a couple shifts at the Mostro Lounge in order to pay off some of the damage Grim has caused by being...everywhere. Azul was benevolent enough to take you in and you just managed to slip through signing a contract with him, much to his chagrin.
Jade took on the responsibility of showing you the ropes, a little too eagerly which you found suspicious. He did tell you everything there is to know about serving and walked you through it. He didn't get irritated after you accidentally dropped a dish or forgot to add an appetizer a table ordered. Or at least you assumed he didn't since his smile never changed. Though you did notice that waiters who messed up one too many times were taken to the back by Jade. You hope that'll never happen to you.
You pass by Jade as he carries an abnormal amount of plates on his arms towards a table. He nods at you with his smile, not a hint of strain on his face.
"You have a new group at table 13. They can get a bit unruly so I'll-" Jade starts but you take the plates containing drinks off his hand.
"No, I got it! Thanks, Jade!" You tell him before dashing off to table 13. While you are definitely in this for the money, you also couldn't help but want to impress Jade and show him that his training was not in vain.
As you approach the table, you can already hear the group of boys chatting and laughing. You set the drinks down and give them a smile, readying your notepad.
"Are you guys ready to order or do you need more time?" You ask.
"What does it look like?" A blondie responds dryly. The rest of the boys stare at you like they're wondering if you passed elementary school.
"That you're...ready?" You guess awkwardly. The blondie rolls his eyes and the rest scoff, their assumptions about your schooling seemingly confirmed.
"Obviously we need more time." Another says and you nod, turning around to leave.
"I'll be back soon then-"
"Where are you going? We're ready to order." You turn back around to find the blondie smirking. Your hands tighten on your notepad and you fight to keep your smile. How did Jade do this all the time?
"What can I get for you?" You keep your eyes focused on the notepad, hoping that will lower your irritation.
"Can I get...uh..." You listen to one of them mumbling before a loud yelp is heard. You look over to see Jade gripping the wrist of the blondie who is frozen in fear and wincing. His grip is so tight that the boy's hand is turning white. You also find that the hand being gripped is dangerously close to touching your bottom.
"Harassing waiters in our lounge is strictly against our policy. I'll have to ask you to leave." Jade says, still smiling as ever. Though this time, you could see the strain in him, not from fatigue but something more lethal.
"I-I wasn't-" The boy tries to plead but Jade only tightens his grip.
"Wasn't trying to touch them? Well, security cameras will be the judge of that." Jade responds and the boy breathes a little easier.
"And so will I." Jade adds before snapping the wrist of the blondie, causing him to scream in pain. The boy flies out of the booth and stumbles towards the exit, crying as he holds his flailing wrist. Jade turns back towards the group.
He doesn't have to say a word since the other boys quickly sprint out of the lounge. You look between the exit and Jade in shock.
"Uh, well, thanks, I think. That might've been a bit excessive..." You trail off and Jade merely wipes a spot on your shoulder one of the fleeing boys must have brushed past.
"Are you alright? You can take a break in the back. Azul does time them though." He tells you and you shake your head with a smile.
"I'm alright. I only have half an hour left anyways. Hopefully those guys won't be back." You eye the exit but Jade takes your arm and leads you to you next table.
"They have an incentive not to. And if they do," He leans down close enough so that you could see the sharp edges of his teeth, "You'll tell me, won't you?"
Floyd Leech
You sit at your desk in Professor Trein's class, listening to him drone on as you take down notes. You always tried hard to pay focus in classes, which annoyed a certain eel sitting right behind you. He often pestered you in this class and you wondered why he didn't have anything better to do, like pay attention.
As Trein turns around to write something on the board, something soft and crinkly hits the back of your head. You look behind you to see Floyd grinning and pointing at the floor. You roll your eyes as you see a crumpled up paper on the ground. Curiosity got the best of you and you open up the paper.
Bored??? I am! Let's ditch!
You write a big, fat NO over his words on the paper and throw it back at him. Trein faces the class again to lecture and you can practically feel Floyd's dramatic sigh as he flops back in his chair.
"Can I see your notes?" Your seatmate asks you as he peers over at your notebook. You scoot your notes closer to you. Just last week, your seatmate had 'accidentally' tripped you while you were walking up to the board.
"Haven't you been taking your own?" You mutter.
"Yeah, but I wanna see yours." The boy starts tugging on your notebook and you try to pull it back.
"No, would you let go?" You hiss as you try to keep hold of your notes. The boy grabs your wrist to try and pull your hand off but he freezes as a looming shadow falls behind him.
"Wanna use my notes? I've got plenty." Floyd grins, all teeth.
The boy stammers, unable to say anything. Floyd grabs his hair and yanks his head back, staring straight down at him.
"Can't hear me? Should I talk louder?" Floyd asks with a giggle as he pulls on the boy's hair harder.
"Leech!" Trein reprimands. Floyd huffs and lets the boy's hair go, sending him reeling into his desk. You glance back at Floyd.
"You didn't actually take any notes, did you?" You ask.
"Sure I did." Floyd hands you his notebook. There's a couple of bullet points about a new takoyaki recipe he wants to try. He also added some doodles of an eel and a tiny shrimp.
Rook Hunt
You sigh as you write your woes down into a journal you started keeping a couple months ago. A group of Pomefiore boys have been bothering you for a while. They constantly put down your looks, calling it critique without giving any helpful tips nor was any of it even asked for. Even when you tried to avoid them on your way to see the vice housewarden, they still managed to corner you every now and then.
You finish writing and toss your notebook on your desk that sits right under your window. You think things may be better tomorrow as you rest your head on your pillow.
***
You head down the path towards the illustrious path that houses the Pomefiore students. Rook had messaged you in the morning, urging you to come by and see a "most beauté activity". You have no idea what this entails but it might be worth checking out.
You find Rook in a grass clearing just behind the dorms. He has his fingers in a square shape as he gazes at something in the distance. He sees you and gasps in surprise, grabbing both of your hands in his.
"Mon lumière! I'm overjoyed that you've accepted my invitation!" Rook spins you around.
"I can tell," You laugh a little, "What's this activity though?"
"I'm glad you asked! You see, I've been wanting to sharpen up my archery skills. The art of the bow and arrow is simply dur mais juste." Rook tells you.
"And you remember I mentioned wanting to watch?" You guess.
"Exactement! I already have the targets set up and all you have to do for now is watch." Rook takes you further down the clearing and your eyes widen in horror. The Pomefiore boys that have been bothering you were tied up to a row of trees, their mouths gagged and a juicy, red apple sits precariously on each of their heads.
"...What is this?" You ask hesitantly.
"Like I said, mon lumière, target practice! Now stand behind me and watch as I pull the drawstring..." Rook's eyes are hyper focused as he points an arrow at one of the boys whose screams are muffled behind the rope.
"Rook, there is something very wrong here!" You shout in concern. He releases the tension in the bow and points the arrow at the ground. He stares at you for a moment before lighting up again.
"You're right! You should be the one pulling the arrow. Such an eye for beauty you have." Rook sighs happily as he stands behind you and places the bow and arrow in your hands. They shake unsteadily as you hold them. There was no way you were going to be able to hit the apples.
"Rook, this isn't-" You gasp as he uses your hands to pull the drawstring and the arrow shoots forward. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear the sound of four consecutive hits.
You slowly open your eyes and see four arrows perfectly shot in the middle of each apple, no doubt due to magical intervention. The group of boys sob in fear, not realizing it wasn't their heads that got hit.
You take a deep breath and look behind you at Rook who seems as pleased as ever.
"Did you know those guys have been bothering me?" You ask with narrowed eyes.
"How would I know that?" Rook responds with a smile.
"So you just happened to pick them out?"
"I needed targets. Who better than those who can't appreciate true beauté?"
You'll be moving your journal to a more secure location.
1K notes · View notes
changbinlov3r · 1 month
Text
Style | Y.J.
Pairing: Jeongin x afab!reader
Summary: you always wanted to do something crazy, something different from what your family expects you to. Who would have guessed that you'd meet Yang Jeongin, the guy who has the worst reputation around town and the one who's ready to deviate you from god's path.
Words count: 7,037
THIS ONE AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!
Warnings: badboy!Jeongin, churchgirl!reader, exaggerated description of conservative/religious families, dirty talk, protected piv, oral(f. receiving), degradation(very little), praise(even less), biting(I think that's all, let me know if I forgot something)
A/N: inspired by TS' song Style, one of my favs.
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You have been the pride and joy of your family since your birth, their perfect little daughter who is obedient and never goes against their word. You are a straight A’s student, the main singer of the church's choir, you’re never harsh and never vulgar, you're never free. That makes you mad, you have never enjoyed your life, like truly enjoyed it, you have been living for others this whole time and you’re tired of it.
“You know what?” Soyeon, your newest friend says, “we should go out”
“To go where?” You ask, confused. You two are seated together in your social studies class, she’s different from all your other friends and your parents would definitely kill you if they ever found out that you befriended someone like her. In your eyes, you know there’s nothing wrong with her but you know they would never agree with this friendship the moment they laid eyes on Soyeon.
She has tattoos all over her body and her hair is pink, she wears strong makeup and clothes that show too much skin, nothing like you. You had to beg your parents to let you wear jeans when you got into college, telling them the long dresses would make you stand out too much and at the same time that they gave you an earful because you were giving in to the sins of the world, they agreed that it wouldn’t be a good idea for their pristine daughter to get too much attention.
Your circle of friends in college is basically the same as the one you had in high school, mostly people from the church, people just like your parents, who judge others based on looks so it was shocking for you when Soyeon approached you first and it was even more shocking when you realized how much you both have in common. She also comes from a conservative family, but unlike you, she decided to rebel at a young age, she chose to be free.
“There’s a new club in the city, I think you’re going to like it”, she tells you, looking the place up on the internet to show it to you.
“I don’t think my parents would let me go”, you chuckle looking at the pictures and at the people in the pictures, you’d definitely stand out in there.
“And who's talking about asking for permission?” She giggles, watching your horrified face.
“I could never”, you shake your head frantically, anxiety growing in your chest just by thinking about it.
“Y/N, you’re always telling me how much you wanted to be brave and do something impulsive, this is your chance”, she pushes, seeing you bite on your bottom lip, wondering if it would be okay to do that just this once.
“But how am I going to explain to them the reason I’m going out at night?”
Soyeon chuckles, amused.
“Have you ever heard of lying?” She asks, sarcastically, making you blush.
“Stop”, you pout, making her laugh loudly.
“Just tell them you are going to have a sleepover with your righteous friends or whatever, I don’t think they are going to doubt you”, Soyeon suggests.
“Fine, yeah, I can do that”, you say, trying not to shiver at the simple thought of lying. You don’t think you have ever lied to your parents, too afraid of what would happen if you were caught, scared that you’d lose the little bit of freedom you have but maybe it’s worth it this time, maybe you’re going to find a whole new world.
You don’t know why Soyeon asked to meet so much earlier than the actual time of the party. Everything goes well with your parents, you never gave them reason to distrust you so they don’t even think too much of it, telling you to come back first thing in the morning for your prayers.
You go to Soyeon’s house, her parents love you, hoping that you’re going to bring their daughter back to the righteous path, little do they know that she’s the one who’s trying to deviate you from that very path.
Since she’s with you, they believe in everything she says about how you two are going to watch a movie in the theater and then she’s gonna sleep at your house. And you do go to the theater, or better, to the restroom there.
“What are we doing here?” You ask, confused, when she locks you both in the tiny space.
“What do you mean?” She seems as confused as you, looking for something in her bag and then she looks at you, realizing something and laughing. “Girl, bold of you to think I’d let you go dressed like that”, she says, staring at you up and down.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You ask, looking at yourself.
“Hm, there’s nothing wrong if you were really going to the theater”, she says, pulling out a few clothes out of her bag, “you’re going to a club, you need to look hot.
“Why?” You inquire again, tilting your head.
“Just because”, she loses her patience, handing you the clothes, “now put this on, I’ll do your makeup after you finish dressing.
“I don’t think this is right”, you tell her from inside the booth, opening the door to find Soyeon frowning.
“What is not right?” She asks, and you look down.
“Is this supposed to be a skirt?” You ask, pulling down the small piece of fabric that’s barely covering your ass.
“That’s how people dress, you’re the one who’s always covering yourself”, she explains, coming close to you. “Now, I’m gonna do your makeup, don’t worry, I’m going to take it easy this time”
“This time?” You murmur, making her chuckle, ignoring your question while she pulls her makeup accessories out of the bag.
You can barely recognize yourself when you look in the mirror, but strangely that doesn’t bother you. You are used to always feeling plain and boring but right in this moment, you feel interesting for the first time in your life. Soyeon really didn’t exaggerate on your makeup, she just put on some mascara on your eyes and a red lipstick on your lips. The silk tank top you’re wearing suits you best if you go braless and the skirt is still too short for your taste but anything over knee length is too short for you.
The club is crowded, you don’t think you ever went to a place so full of people and so full of life. People are laughing, kissing each other, dancing, enjoying themselves and that’s something so rare to see in your everyday life, it's delightful to you.
“Do you wanna drink something?” Soyeon asks, loud enough for you to hear.
“I think just water for now”, you tell her and she nods, your friend is not one to pressure you to do something you don’t want.
“I’m going to the bar, okay? I’ll be back in a minute”, she says, as soon as you both reach a booth.
You nod, watching as she struggles to squeeze herself in between the people dancing, you’re not sure if she’s going to be able to arrive safe and sound to the bar.
You look around, you think you know a few people from your school but you hope they don’t recognize you. However, there is a pair of eyes that catch your attention, making you stop to stare at him for a whole minute before he smirks, giving a step in your direction until you realize that he’s coming to you.
You know him, you know him so well. That’s the guy all your friends told you to stay away from, even your parents warned you about him. Yang Jeongin, the city heartthrob.
Jeongin is a known rake, he goes around causing trouble and breaking hearts and that’s something you don’t want anything to do with. Then, why can’t you move? Why does it feel like he’s pulling you like a magnet, like you can’t get up while he has his eyes on you.
You look around, trying to see if Soyeon is close by to save you from him but she’s nowhere to be seen and in an instant he arrives at your table, tilting his head and looking at you up and down. Jeongin raises a brow, watching as you fidget on your seat.
“I don’t think we have met”, he says, sitting down.
“We haven’t”, you say, drily.
“But I think you know me”, he smirks, “And I know you — I mean, the other version of you”
“Well, if you know me, you should also know that there’s nothing for you here”, you tell him, feeling nervous, a strange heat spreading around your lower belly.
He chuckles, sliding in the booth to sit right by your side, slipping his arm around your shoulder.
“Any knowledge I had about you went down the drain the moment you stepped in this party wearing this tiny piece of fabric you call a skirt”, he murmurs too closely, eyes fixed on yours, making your heart beat faster. You should definitely tell him to leave since you have the slight idea about where this is going but at the same time you don't want him to leave. God forbid anyone knows that you ever let this man touch you but you sure want him to. You can't even blame the alcohol since you didn't drink any but you can blame Soyeon for leaving you alone in a place where Jeongin is. Having him so close to you is making your head hurt, you feel your whole body turning hot, the throbbing on your upper body making you dizzy.
Something takes control over you, making you turn your upper body over to him, clicking your tongue next and smirking.
“Shall we get to know each other, then?” You hear your voice but don't know where that courage came from.
“I'd like that”, he squeezes his body even closer to you. Jeongin leans over the table, resting his chin on his hand while he rests his elbow on the metal surface. “You look stunning tonight by the way, very different from the way you look on the daily basis”
“So you really know who I am”, you ask, surprised.
“Of course, you're the college's model for good behavior”, he chuckles, “the amount of times I heard professors bringing you up as an example is crazy”
“Well, it's the opposite with you”, you shrug.
“Ouch”, he pouts, “why does it sounds like you don't like me”
“It's ‘cause I don't”
“I'm sure I can change your mind”, he leans in closer once more.
“Oh, pray tell, how are you going to do that?” You scoff, amused. There's no way this guy has gam-
“Have you ever had your pussy eaten?”
You almost choke on the air you just breathed.
“Wh-what?” You gulp, trying to recompose yourself.
“I'm sure you're gonna like me after I eat you out”, he smirks.
You roll your eyes, scoffing at him, trying to hide your embarrassment and how hot you're feeling.
“Do you say that to all the girls you try to sleep with?” You ask, crossing your arms in front of your chest, making your boobs go up, something that makes Jeongin's eyes go down to stare at your breasts, the smirk growing bigger in his lips.
“Only to the special one's”, he tells you, nonchalantly, raising a brow. Before you can retort, you see Soyeon coming in your direction with drinks in both hands.
“Sorry, it took ages for someone to get my order”, she says, tilting her head in confusion when she looks at Jeongin. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all”, Jeongin is the one to say, “I was just about to leave, it's nice to see you by the way”, he smiles at Soyeon while getting up. “If you change your mind, feel free to come find me”, he says, winking at you before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.
Soyeon sets the drinks on the table, sitting by your side with a puzzled face.
“What was that about?” She asks.
“Nothing”, you sigh, fanning yourself to try and calm down and ease your hot face.
“Well, by the way you are reacting it doesn't look like nothing”
“He was hitting on me”, you say, feeling embarrassed again. “I told him I'm not interested”
“Why?” Soyeon asks, more confused than before.
“What do you mean ‘why’? He's Yang Jeongin, the guy who everyone warns us about”, you answer like it's obvious.
“Nope, he's the guy the people from your church warned you about”, she chuckles, “I know him and he's not that bad, but it's true that he can't keep it in his pants”
“Even if it's not as bad as people painted him to be…”, you lean closer to her so you can talk lower, “... I never did anything, I don't know if it's okay for me to do it here”
“And who's the person who's going to tell you if it's okay or not?” Soyeon asks, “you should do what you feel like doing, don't think about your parents or your church, just think about what you wanna do”
You stare at Soyeon for a moment, biting on your bottom lip. You know she's right, you do, but are you brave enough to take the risk?
“Do you have a con…dom?” You ask, feeling your cheeks hot and a big smile grows on your friend's face.
“I sure do”, she answers, opening her bag and looking for it inside, grabbing two packages and giving it to you. “Don't feel like you have to do this, you can just try and see what happens. I have known Jeongin for quite a while and I know he wouldn't do anything you're not up to”, Soyeon assures you.
You nod, getting up. There's nothing wrong with trying, right? Your parents will never know and it's not like he's going to tell anyone too.
You walk in the direction Jeongin went, squeezing yourself in the middle of the crowd, looking around to find the man. There are so many different people, but you're sure you can spot him without issue if he's nearby.
You do come across him, eyes meeting his back while you watch as he whispers something in another girl's ear. There's an ache in your chest as you watch how she laughs about what he's saying like he's so funny. Well, stupid of you to think he would be waiting for you. You sigh, maybe this is a sign that you should just call it a night and go home.
As if the universe hears what's going through your mind, Jeongin turns around like he could feel your gaze and your eyes meet for a split of a second before you turn to look anywhere else, just to find someone you know. Fuck, it's a girl from your church, her family is really close to yours, what's she doing here?
You spin on your heels, deciding to run to the restroom for now, it's your best option. She's known to be a snitch, if she sees you there's no way she's gonna keep quiet about it to your parents and after that your life is over.
Miraculously, you manage to find an empty bathroom, going in and locking the door. You watch yourself in the mirror, your red lipstick is still intact. You wet your hands, throwing drops of water at your face but not enough to mess your makeup.
You're fine, you're alright, you can just sneak out of this club and get home safely without anyone knowing. You nod, turning around to open the door. And when you get out, you're going to forget any strange ideas you had about-
“Jeongin?” You ask, seeing the man standing in front of the bathroom door. “What are you doing here?”
“This is a public restroom”, he jokes.
“Ah, yeah”, you nod, stepping aside so he can go in and you can walk away.
“I was kidding”, he explains, “I thought I saw you looking for me”, he smiles, crossing his arms in front of his chest while he leans on the door frame
“Was I?” You pretend. You had just decided that you wouldn't let these impulsive feelings control you so why is every fiber of your body telling you to just grab this man by the collar and kiss him.
“Should I come in?” He asks, ignoring your cynical retort. “If you tell me to go in, I'll understand that you're interested in going further in this little game but if you're still not interested, you can just tell me to leave”
You take a few deep breaths, thinking about what you really wanna do, just like Soyeon said.
“Fuck it”, you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside, locking the door after.
Jeongin watches you with that damn smirk on his face.
“I won't do anything I'm not comfortable with”, you inform him, making him chuckle as he takes a step closer to you.
“Wouldn't want it any other way”, he says, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing your body against his. Jeongin leans closer slowly, taking his time enjoying how you lick on your lips anxiously and watch him with big eyes. Then he kisses you, his lips gently press against yours, so much more delicate than you thought he could be. His tongue brushes past your lips, going into your mouth and exploring every corner, dancing with yours as he shows you what to do. You kissed someone before but it was nothing like this, you never knew you could feel this hot with a kiss. Your belly feels like it's on fire, warmth spreading everywhere.
Jeongin's hands slide down to your thighs, brushing your skin slightly and making you shiver as his hands goes up, beneath your skirt.
“Is this okay?” He asks, squeezing your ass only covered by your panties and you feel dizzy, nodding frantically. Jeongin smiles, he's not usually so careful but he can guess that you're not very experienced, and the last thing he wants is for any partner to have a bad experience with him.
Jeongin lifts you up, carrying you to the sink and making you sit there, sliding his hands down to your legs to spread them open for him. Your skirt rides up and he can see your baby blue panties and the wet spot between your folds.
“Are you already this wet, baby?” He asks, sliding your underwear to the side as he brushes his fingers slightly in your entrance. Jeongin looks at you, looking for any hesitancy but you're looking at him with expectant eyes, waiting patiently for him to fingerfuck you. He inserts one finger inside you, “Who knew a good girl like you would let someone like me fuck her in the restroom of a club?” He teases, watching as you squirm in embarrassment but also how your walls flutter around his finger. “Hmm, do you enjoy hearing how much of a whore you are?” He thrusts in and out, feeling your pussy sucking his finger more and more as he degrades you, making him add one more.
“Don't say that”, you whine, grabbing him by the shoulders and digging your nails on his jacket, trying to contain the moans that try to escape your lips.
“Oh, but I think you like it”, Jeongin smirks, using his thumb to tease your clit while his other hand wanders beneath your crop top, grabbing one of your breasts, kneading and squeezing the flesh.
“Ah!” You whine, closing your eyes to the feeling. You never thought it would be so good to feel someone else's hands touching you like that, it makes you wonder why it took you so long to try.
As if Jeongin can hear your thoughts and want to torture you, he takes his fingers out of you, make you whimper to the loss of his touch.
“Shh, pretty girl. I'm going to make you feel good real soon”, he kisses you one more time before sliding his jacket down his arms, dropping it on the floor. He's wearing a tank top that looks painfully tight on his body, hugging every bit of his muscles and showing his toned arms.
You gasp when he takes the piece off, showing you his muscular chest, making you gulp and try to close your legs to rub them together to ease the tight knot growing on your lower stomach but being prevented by Jeongin's hips.
“Do you like what you see?” He asks, condescendingly. But contrary to his expectations, you nod frantically, probably not thinking straight anymore. Jeongin chuckles, leaning closer, biting on your earlobe. “After you come in my mouth I'm gonna show you something you're going to like even more”
Before you can ask questions, the man is getting on his knees in between your legs. He pulls your panties, sliding it down your legs, licking his lips to the sight of your glistening cunt. You can feel his hot breath reaching your sensitive spot, Jeongin kisses your inner thighs slowly, making you whine for him to do something, anything to help you feel any sort of relief.
Finally he dives in on your pussy, sticking his tongue between your wet folds and licking a huge strand until he reaches your clit. Jeongin sucks on the hardened bud, circling it with his tongue, digging his fingers on your hips as he pulls your pussy closer to his face, leading your legs over his shoulders. You taste delicious, sweet and wet, he feels like he could stay with his face between your legs forever. When he feels your hips bucking in against his mouth, he groans, eyes fixed on your pleasured drunk face.
Your hands fly to his head, pressing him against your cunt without even realizing, his nose poking on your clit just makes it worse and when he inserts two fingers in your hole at once, you feel your whole body shaking. Your toes curl and a loud moan escapes your lips as Jeongin slows down the movements on your sensitive spot, enjoying seeing you coming down from your high.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, standing up. You open your eyes to stare at him, his face glistening with your juices and you have the inexplicable urge to kiss him, so you grab Jeongin by the neck and crash your lips on his.
He groans in between your sloppy kiss, feeling his painfully hard cock throb even more while listening to your sweet sighs. He feels like he's about to explode when he feels your hand touching the buttons of his jeans, pulling away to look at what you're doing.
“I wanna touch you”, you explain, feeling your cheeks hot but too drunk in pleasure to even feel embarrassed.
“Oh, pretty”, he smirks, your hands freeing his cock in a simple move, making Jeongin bite on his bottom lip to hold on the moan about to come out when he feels your fingers grabbing on his cock.
“I don't know what to do”, you whine, looking at him with expectant eyes, he really wanna curse right now but he doesn't want you to think he's angry.
“Here”, he covers your hand with his, leading yours up and down his shaft. “Like this”, he closes his eyes, leaning on your shoulder and letting you work alone.
“Do you like it, Innie?” You ask, softly. Your movements on his cock makes him whimper, he hates being called that but why does it sound so sweet coming out of your mouth?
Jeongin lifts his head, looking at you. You have your bottom lip stuck between your lips, your eyes are glossy, your red lipstick is all smeared and your breathing is erratic.
“Fuck, you're hot”, he answers, making you giggle, putting more pressure on the caresses you're giving his length. “Can I fuck you, pretty girl?” He asks, making you halt your movements. His hands cup your face and he kisses you, smiling once he pulls away. “We don't have to”, he assures you, “you said you won't do anything you're not comfortable with and I agreed”
“I want to”, you say, feeling your face hot. “It's just that- I never did this before, so I don't know what to do”, you tell the truth. You're having mixed feelings about this whole thing, you really want to do this but you can't shake the thought that something bad is going to happen if you do something to displease your parents.
“We can go slowly, okay?” He asks, pulling you out of your deep overthinking. You nod, giving him the condom that you had stored in the pocket of your skirt. “Oh my, you're dirtier than I thought”, he chuckles, opening the packaging and putting on the protection.
He positions his cock in your entrance, checking once more with you if everything is okay.
“If it hurts too much, I'm going to stop”, he tells you and you nod, feeling him sliding inside you slowly. You gasp, the stretch is rougher than you thought and when he reaches a certain point it starts hurting too much. He stops when he sees the tears running down your face, making him frown in worry. “Are you okay?” He asks, you look at him and nod.
“It just hurts a bit but I can take it”, you assure him, seeing him smile. Jeongin leans closer to you, trying not to move his hips for the time being.
“You're so good, baby”, he praises you, kissing below your eyes, on your tears stained cheeks.
He kisses your lips, feeling you relaxing on his hold and that's when he moves, his cock going all the way in as you whimper in his mouth. “Does it hurt a lot?” He asks, but you shake your head.
“It's good now, I think I'm good”, you whisper, “can you move?” Jeongin nods, thrusting in and out slowly, letting you get used to his cock. Your moans make him believe that you're enjoying yourself. “Oh Innie, Innie, that's so good”, you mumble, feeling like you can see stars.
“Shit, y/n, fuck”, Jeongin groans, feeling his orgasm approaching. “I'm not going to last, baby, I'm gonna come”, he groans, leaning on your shoulder once more and biting on the soft skin, making you cry out.
“Me too, oh- oh”, you moan loudly feeling your release, the faltering thrusts of the man inside you and his low moans tell you he just came too.
You two stay silent for a whole minute, trying to process what just happened. You can't believe you just had sex in the restroom of a club and with Jeongin of all people, but even though you know no one other than Soyeon is going to be excited about that, you can't stop the big smile that grows in your lips.
Three knocks on the door make the both of you come back to reality, you jump from the sink, trying to fix yourself to look presentable outside and before you two can talk about what just happened Soyeon’s voice comes out.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” She sighs.
“Yeah”, you answer while you try to fix your lipstick that's all over your face.
“We have to hurry, a girl from your church saw me and it's just a question of time before she finds you too”, she tells you, making you look at Jeongin.
“I gotta go”, you inform, even though he hears what Soyeon just said.
“Yeah”, it's the only thing he says and that makes you disappointed. You shouldn't have expected much of someone who just fucked you in the restroom of a club but you thought you felt something different, guess you were wrong.
When you walk out of the restroom, Jeongin comes down from his gaze. Fuck, he can't believe he let you go just like that but he was too shocked about the things he felt a few minutes ago. Why did it feel so different this time?
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You can't stop thinking about Jeongin, the way he held you that night is stuck into your mind and the way he kissed you made you want more but you can't have him not now and not ever. While you have been torturing yourself and overthinking, Jeongin kept living his life to the fullest like that night never happened, like you never happened.
“That Jeongin guy is so vulgar, I heard he’s got girls left and right, doing God knows what with him”, one of the girls of your church says. You feel your cheeks hot, you know exactly what they are doing with him because you were one of those girls.
“I don’t think we should be talking about that”, you murmur, biting on the insides of your cheek.
“Ah, you’re right”, she nods, smiling empathetically to you, “we shouldn’t talk about such worldly things”, the girl grabs your hand, looking around to the other people and smiling gently. “Shall we talk about the song we will be presenting on Sunday?”
You nod with the others, but you pay no attention to whatever she’s saying or anyone for that matter. Your thoughts traveling far to those ungodly sensations Jeongin caused you.
In your lunch break you don’t really want to be with your church friends, you know that at some point, something about sins is going to come up in the conversation and you’ll have to hear how you were a slut, even though they don’t know that they’re talking about you. So you go to the opposite side of heading to the bathroom, it’s not the most hygienic place to eat but at least you’ll be left alone.
That was your idea, until you feel someone grab you by the wrist and drag you to an empty room. You were ready to curse at the person when your back is pressed against the wall and you have the chance to look at the culprit’s face.
“Jeongin?” You ask confusedly, looking at his sharp eyes.
“The one and only”, he smirks, making you roll your eyes.
“What do you want?”
“Aw, baby”, he pouts, “why does it sound like you didn’t miss me?” He asks, taking a step closer to you — if that’s even possible, since you two are already glued.
“Because I didn’t”, you lie, avoiding his gaze, trying to push him away from you but getting your wrists held by his hands the moment they land on his chest. “And by the way, are you crazy? How can you just drag a girl to an empty place like this?”
“I’m sorry, are we still at that time where men and women can’t even be left alone to talk without being forced to marry?” He asks sarcastically, “we already did so much worse than just talk though”
“Just tell me what you want and leave me alone”, you huff, trying to control yourself. His body so close to yours does things to you, thoughts you don’t know if you’ll be able to control.
“Well, even if you didn’t miss me, I missed you”, he suddenly looks too serious, not a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
“Well, I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl”, you scoff, trying to hide your bitterness about the subject.
He sighs, biting on his bottom lip.
“What you heard is true, but I can’t stop thinking about that night, about you”, he confesses, making your heart melt for a moment. So he wasn’t as alright as you thought he would be and that gives you some peace of mind, to know that you weren’t just another notch in his belt. However, reality comes crashing in soon after, as you remember that you two could never be together.
“And what do you want me to do about it?” You ask, even though your sentence sounds hostile, you really want an answer.
“We can try and be a thing, I don’t know anything about couple’s shit but I can try if it’s with you”, he scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly and that confession would sound a bit cute if you didn’t know better.
“Jeongin, we can’t be together”, you clear things out, feeling a sudden pain in your chest.
“Why not?” He looks at you like you’re saying something unbelievable and that makes you chuckle.
“Because, we come from two different worlds. You wouldn’t have ever looked at me if it wasn’t for that party”, you bite on your bottom lip. “It’s that girl you’re interested in, the bold and pretty girl who takes risky decisions”, you manage to push him away this time, he’s too shocked by what you’re saying to even try to prevent you. “You’re probably just enchanted with the idea of me and in a few days you’re going to get tired and even though for you I’ll be just another ex-girlfriend, for me… Unfortunately, I can’t recover after you”
You grab your bag that had fallen on the ground, continuing to speak.
“Until I get out of my parents' home, I have to follow their rules and they would never agree with me dating someone like you. My whole life will be a mess after you leave, but yours is going to be as normal as it was before you met me”, you smile sadly to him, waiting for a moment while he stares at you with a scowl in his face before you nod, turning around and leaving him behind.
You feel like throwing up. If he never came after you at least you could pretend that night never happened, that it was just as insignificant to you as it was to him. Why did he have to come after you and make things so complicated? That makes everything so much worse, it’s so much more painful to think about what you two could have been.
You try distracting yourself with your classes and the church choir, trying to get more tasks so you won’t be able to think about Jeongin. You need to stop thinking about him. There’s a point where you even think you might be going crazy, when you see someone just like him at your church on Sunday but there’s no way he’s there, Jeongin would never step foot in a place like that and you’re sure the other people that attend wouldn’t like him there either.
You help get the lunch ready at home, your parents are acting strange and treating you so nicely that you think one of them might be dying and they are trying to sooth you before telling the truth. That’s when you hear the sound of the doorbell, frowning, you didn’t know you were expecting visits.
“Can you get the door, honey?” Your mother asks and you nod, walking to the entrance and opening the door just to find someone who looks exactly like Jeongin, but there’s no way that’s him.
“Good afternoon, y/n”, he greets you, what happened to him? He’s wearing khaki pants and a light blue sweater over a white dress shirt. His hair is styled slipped to the side, not a strand out of place. You close the door fast, in panic.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, holding the knob of the door so your parents won’t open it before he goes away.
“I was invited”, he says nonchalantly, like it’s something he’s used to doing.
“Aren’t you going to invite our guest to come in?” You hear your father’s voice, looking at Jeongin like he’s an alien. He smiles at you, tilting his head while you open the door, suspiciously.
Your parents greet him with a big smile, something you never thought you’d see them doing towards Jeongin.
“Did you have trouble finding the house?” Your mother asks, as she puts some rice on a plate for him.
“Not at all”, he answers politely, “you have a beautiful home”, he smiles charmingly, making the older woman giggle.
“I’m sorry, but can you explain how you know each other?” You ask, confused with their interaction.
“Honey, Jeongin found us at the church earlier and we have never been more proud of you”, she smiles as your father nods.
“Proud of what?” You feel your head spinning, the only thing Jeongin could have told them was about the night you spent together and you’d probably be homeless right now if your parents ever found out about that.
“Now now, don’t be so modest my dear”, your mother smiles. “Jeongin told us how you have been unstoppable about your mission on bringing his soul back to our lord”
You blink once, twice…
“I did what?” You ask, frowning, Jeongin’s hand sneaks right to your thigh, squeezing the flesh, almost making you squeal.
“He told us everything”, you father stops eating, “how you searched for him while he was lost and guided his soul back to our God’s path”
“I told your parents how I became a new man because of you, y/n”, Jeongin says, smiling kindly to your family, “and I asked them if it would be okay if we got to know each other with the intention of marriage in the future”, he says like its nothing, making you choke on the air you just breath.
“Marriage?” You almost yell.
“Only after I’m done with all my studies and when your parents consider me a man worthy of you, of course”, he looks so genuine, you would surely believe him if you didn’t see the corner of his lips slightly upturned.
“And of course we agreed”, your mother says, “someone who got lost once has more chances to get lost again, so who better than you to be by his side, helping him get through the worldly desires without deviating from the right path?”
You nod, not really understanding what's happening but going with the flow.
“May I take y/n for a walk after we eat?” He asks your parents, they look at each other and nod, telling him to go ahead.
The rest of the lunch is unbelievable, Jeongin even quotes the bible, making your family impressed. After everyone eats, he helps your mom collect the dishes and after a few minutes he comes back from the kitchen, smiling kindly at you and offering his hand to you so you can hold and get up. You walk together for a couple of minutes, you’re still too into your own head to ask him anything, everything about this whole situation doesn’t seem real.
“You are insane”, is the only thing you say when you see his car at the end of the road, you look at him just to find his piercing eyes watching you.
“I’m just someone very determined”, he shrugs.
“So what now, you’re going to pretend to be a good boy forever?” You walk straight to his car without even realizing it.
“Not forever, just until you get out of your parents house”, you spin on your heels, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“Why are you doing this?” You ask, confused. “You could have anyone you wanted”
“Not you”, he tells you, simply. “And I want you”, he takes a step closer and when you step back, you feel your back press on the door of his car, making him grin, walking even closer to you and pressing his body against yours.
You don’t want to reject him, you never wanted to in the first place and to think that he managed to find a way so you two can be together, it makes you flustered.
“I want you too”, you murmur, feeling your cheeks grow hot.
Jeongin smiles, leaning in to kiss you but stopping before his lips could touch yours, sliding his hand behind your back to pull the handle of the door.
“That’s good, ‘cause you have no idea about how much I’ve been wanting to taste you since I saw you this morning at the mass”, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to be able to swing the door open, pushing you inside of the back seat of his car.
You’re wearing the long dress you always use to go to the church and it makes Jeongin even crazier to see you dressed like this than it did when you wore those tiny little pieces at the club. This way no one else can see you the way he does, everything about you is for him to see, you're all his.
“Innie, we shouldn't do this here”, you whimper when he rides your skirt up, revealing the wet spot in your panties.
“That's not what your pussy is telling me”, he chuckles, pulling the piece of fabric aside and brushing his fingers between your folds. “Fuck, you're soaked”, he groans, leaning down to lick your clit, making your hips thrust involuntarily to feel his mouth in your needy hole.
Jeongin digs his fingers on your hips, preventing you from moving while he licks and sucks on your core. The wetness of your cunt is too much for him, it's overwhelming and your smell makes him go crazy.
“Can't we go to your house?” You whimper, looking around, trying hard to keep your eyes open even though your body is forcing you to close them to enjoy the pleasure.
“Nope, I promised your parents I would have you back home in thirty minutes, we are running out of time”, he raises his brow to you, daring you to protest more but you just give in, enjoying his hot tongue on your cunt and letting yourself come on his mouth.
On the way back to your home, Jeongin promises to keep appearances for your parents but he tells you that what he wants more than anything is to take you out of the righteous path. He says that with that damn smirk on his lips and you're sure he's gonna succeed.
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A/N: if you enjoy my work, don't forget to give me some feedback. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated and are the things that keep me motivated to write. You can also buy me a coffee ☕
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mssainz · 19 days
Text
PART 7 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Nothing just wholesome
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Cael is excitedly showing Carlos his toy car collection. “I have this Volkswagen Golf GTS from Uncle Danny. And this is my Ferrari Sf90 Stradale that Mama bought me on my birthday,” Cael said, presenting his toys to his father. “You have some really impressive cars, my love. Which one is your favorite?” Carlos asked, gently stroking Cael's hair.
Quickly, Cael rummages through his bag to find his favorite car. “This one, Papa. I have many favorites. But recently, mine’s this LaFerrari. Uncle Charles gave it to me when he won a podium.” Carlos smiled at the way he pronounced LaFerrari, with an emphasis on the 'r' sound. “Wow, you also have a LaFerrari? What do you like about it?” Carlos asked, pleased that Cael was so assertive and easy to converse with.
“It's incredibly fast, Papa. And Uncle Charles said it uses electric hybrid power. I don't really know what that means, but 'hybrid' plus 'power' sounds cool to me,” Cael replied, causing Carlos to chuckle at his innocence.
From the doorway, you've been watching your boys talk about cars. They've been inseparable since the afternoon. Clearing your throat to catch their attention, you ask, “It's already time for dinner. What do you want to eat?”
Carlos turned to Cael, “Baby, what do you want to eat?”
“Anything delicious, Papa. Something without pistachios,” Cael responded, causing Carlos to laugh as he recalled Cael's reaction to pistachio ice cream. “Okay, anything delicious without pistachio coming right up,” Carlos said, lifting Cael, who giggled in response.
“Let me cook for you two,” Carlos suggested as he passed you, heading for the kitchen. “Okay. Thanks, I guess,” you replied, following them downstairs.
In the kitchen, Carlos handed Cael back to you and began to prepare the meal. “Your fridge is well-stocked for someone just on vacation here,” he commented. “Does Cael have any food allergies?” he asked you.
“No, luckily he doesn’t have any food allergies,” you replied.
“Not even strawberries?” Carlos asked, aware of your own allergy.
“No, he is not allergic to strawberries,” you confirmed.
While Carlos cooked, you and Cael played at the counter. Carlos would occasionally glance over, smiling at the domestic scene.
“Why am I getting so many kisses from you, Sebastian Cael?” you asked, amused by your son's affectionate nature.
“You did nothing, Mama. I just love you,” he replied.
“Can I get kisses too?” Carlos interjected, also wanting some affection.
“Of course, Papa,” Cael said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I love you, Mama. I love you, Papa,” he added, hugging both of you.
You enjoyed the hug but felt uncomfortable with the close proximity to Carlos. As you were about to point out the food spilling from the pot, Carlos noticed and rushed to the stove, causing both you and Cael to laugh.
After dinner, you took care of the dishes while the boys continued their playtime until well past 10 pm.
"Carlos, I think it's time for you to go. It's already past ten, and Cael needs to sleep. You should get some rest too," you said. Carlos looked at you, surprised at how time had flown.
"No, Mama," Cael instantly clung to Carlos when he heard talk of bedtime. "Baby, it's already past your bedtime. You need rest. Papa needs to rest too," you tried to convince your son.
Carlos attempted to gently remove Cael’s hand from his neck. "Papa, no! Don't leave, Papa," Cael protested, starting to cry. Tears blurred your vision as you felt a pang of sympathy for him. Carlos returned your gaze, his own eyes brimming with tears.
"Papa, please stay," Cael begged. Carlos comforted his son, trying to explain the situation. "Oh baby, as much as I want to stay, Papa has to go to prepare for the upcoming race," Carlos told the still sobbing Cael.
“Aww baby,” Carlos said, wiping away his tears. You approached them, gently rubbing Cael's back. “Cael, look at Papa. I have to go tonight, but I promise I'll fetch you on Sunday and take you to the paddock to watch me race. I'll even let you ride in Papa’s Formula 1 car. Is that okay, my love?” Carlos proposed, hoping to appease his son.
Cael, still sniffing and sobbing, managed to nod. “Stop crying, baby. Papa has already agreed to let you watch his race. We'll go to the paddock, okay? You'll watch him race in the Ferrari garage, honey,” you added.
Slowly calming down, Cael agreed to come with you. “Bye, Papa. Drive safely,” he said, kissing Carlos goodbye. “Thank you, baby. Papa will see you on Sunday, okay? Be a good boy for Mama, hmm?” Carlos said, ruffling his son's hair. Cael gave a small nod in response.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Carlos said to you, receiving a nod and a smile in return. “Drive home safely, Carlos,” you reminded him before walking him to his car with your son. Carlos kissed Cael on the cheek and, without thinking, kissed your temple before entering the car. You didn't have time to react as you were holding Cael, but your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture.
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Carlos arrived home, grinning as he headed to his room. He couldn't shake off his smile; the upcoming practice race didn't even cross his mind. He was merely thrilled about the day he had spent with you and Cael. Unexpectedly, he found his father standing in the corner of his room.
"Dios Mio, Papa, what are you doing there?" Carlos asked, startled.
His father replied with a raised eyebrow, "You've been humming and smiling like a teenager since you got here, Carlos. What's going on?"
Carlos continued to smile at his father, responding, "Nothing, Papa. I'm just happy."
His father squinted at him, pressing for an answer. "Are you drunk or on drugs?"
"No, Papa, I'm completely sober. I'm not on drugs either. Something really special just happened today," Carlos began.
His father interjected, "Did you sign a new contract?"
"That would be nice, Papa. But something even more special happened," Carlos said, pausing for effect. "I met my son!"
His father put his hand on his forehead, "You're on drugs. I'm sure of it."
"Papa, no. I'm telling the truth," Carlos said, showing him his phone wallpaper. It was a picture of you and Cael, smiling at each other in the kitchen.
"Wait, is that Y/N? You and Y/n have a son? When did you get back together?" his father asked, forehead furrowed in confusion.
"We're not together yet, Papa. But, we do have a son and today, I finally introduced myself to our son and spent time with him," Carlos explained.
"So you're telling me I have a grandson?" his father asked for confirmation.
"Yes, Papa. His name is Sebastian Cael Sainz. But, please don't tell Mama yet. I want to tell her myself, or maybe even surprise her with Cael," Carlos requested.
"Well, I can't tell her now. She's already asleep," his father replied. Carlos chuckled at this.
"So when can I meet our little Sainz?" his father asked.
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Carlos' Wallpaper
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AN: I was also sobbing while writing the part where Carlos has to go home. I hope you like this part. Let me know your thoughts or if you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank y'all!
TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo
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velocesainz · 16 days
Note
Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to
A/n: this was a very interesting request and it took me quite a while to really get the plot line. Hope you enjoy!
One heart broke six hands bloody
F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist
Summary: Charles and Lando are in a relationship with reader and they slowly stop paying attention to her and missing important events. The last straw is when they miss your birthday.
Warnings: sad, angstyy, hurt
Pairing: Charles x Lando x reader
Reader pov:
It had been nearly five months since they started acting distant to me.
I don’t know why.
We were so good all together
It was like we completed each other
But recently they’ve really started to distance themselves and ignore me.
Constantly say they have meetings and leave home when I know they don’t drive I’m in contact with their teammates
Were they both cheating on me?
I woke up in our shared bed with nobody by my side.
I went on about my day realising they both had left for some sort of meeting with their respective teams
They returned home late at night completely wasted
“Where were you two? I’ve been worried sick! I called you both so many times, why didn’t you guys pick up?” I questioned
“Oh shut up mom.” Was all Lando said before they both left to go to bed
The next day was one I would usually be excited for but maybe not this year
My birthday
I would usually celebrate it with my two boyfriends but they seem to not want to spend time with me at all
I walked into the kitchen to see them scrolling on Charles’s giggling and whispering to Lando about something. They would do that with me too but I guess not anymore.
“Hey guys, what’s for breakfast?” I asked them seeing they had made their breakfast already
“Oh..we didn’t make you any. We thought you would do it yourself” Charles said
I sighed and went upstairs to get ready, my appetite knocked out by his words
I got dressed and left the house watching them not care
I hung out around Monaco since I had no friends here, just Charles and Lando
It started raining and I was freezing on my way back to our apartment. As I walked in I found them on their game not bothering to focus on anything but that and each other
“Hey I’m back” I announced as best as I could in my feverish voice due to the intense shivering
“Yea yea whatever just make us dinner” Lando said
What is up with them?
“You can do that yourself. In fact you guys should have done it for me at least today of all days”
They looked at me and asked “What are you talking about?”
I give up on these two
“It was my birthday today and you guys didn’t even bother to wish me or spend time with me. You both have been so secretive and distant from and it feels like you have fallen out of love. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit any longer”
I walked up to my bedroom and started packing the essentials
Charles pov
How did we not realise we were hurting our dearest so much?
We were ignoring her as we were going to propose to her and knew Lando wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he started talking
We were so stressed about getting the perfect rings that we completely neglected y/n
Me and Lando looked at each other and chased after her to the bedroom to see her packing her things
“Cheri please don’t leave us we apologise for our horrible behaviour” I begged
“We were working on something very important and in that stress we completely neglected we’re extremely sorry” Lando said
“I don’t care for your explanations. My state of mind has not been good thanks to you two and I refuse to worsen it. I’m leaving and that’s final” she said
All our hearts were breaking as she said this. We ruined a beautiful relationship because we cared about materialistic things over our actual love for each other.
Now there was nothing we could do anymore.
She packed her bags and left the apartment telling us not to follow her and we’d broken her heart enough I’m sure she wouldn’t want to listen to us anymore.
One heart broke and left six hands bloody.
A/n: I’m sorry I took super long to finish this request. Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave feedback! Kissies ✨
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