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#for 4 days straight for the check ups n
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Panic Stations - LN
Summary: Lando's pregnant girlfriend's morning sickness gets so bad she's hospitalised and Lando is at a race weekend with no ability to help
No part 2 requests please
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Leaving y/n was bad enough but at only 4 months she'd been advised by midwife to not travel while in such a fragile state. Especially since the morning sickness should've passed by now but hasn't. It's normal for it not to as well, it just usually has passed by this point.
The midwife is on-call for y/n and Max's girlfriend Kelly is staying with her while their boyfriend's are gone for the race.
Lando left as last minute as he could and has been on the phone to y/n every spare minute he has.
Of course it was during qualifying that y/n took a bad turn and Kelly insisted on getting her to the hospital where they decided they needed to monitor her because she isn't keeping food down and not getting properly hydrated.
"Hey, Lando." Kelly greets picking up y/n's phone as she steps out the room since y/n had finally got comfortable enough to sleep and she doesn't want to wake the young woman.
She also knows what it's like to be pregnant, and she knows that y/n's experience is much worse than hers was so far. So she is trying to help as much as possible however she can. Right now that means letting her rest.
"Hey, why are you guys in the hospital? I checked y/n's location when she didn't reply to my message. What's happening?" Lando questions cutting straight to the point.
"Y/n wasn't keeping food down at all. So we called the midwife, she told us to come to the hospital and they just want to keep her here for a few days at least, just monitor her. Get her on the right anti-sickness medication and put some weight back on." Kelly explains as calmly as possible.
Lando feels a new wave of nerves completely wash over him. He knew leaving her this time was going to be hard, but her being hospitalised has him feeling like feigning illness or just calling an emergency.
"She is fine. She's asleep, she's comfortable, they're rehydrating her. The baby is completely fine, they just want to keep it that way. I promise I'll get her to call you once she's awake, if she can't get through she'll leave a message." Kelly assures him since even she can sense his anxiety through the phone.
"Ok. Ok. Thank you. Really thank you so much." Lando mumbles then sighing heavily. "I should go, thanks for keeping me informed. Can you just...let me know if there's any news that she doesn't tell me?"
"Of course. You just focus on the race right now and remember you can fly back and see her straight after you're done tomorrow."
Despite her attempt to reassure Lando, it does little to actually calm him and he's fidgeting and on edge the whole time.
The quali debrief, he hardly says a word and the moment his phone rings he's up and out without even saying anything to the team or Andrea.
"Y/n? Baby?" Lando answers earning a small laugh that he doesn't expect to hit him like a wave. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine-better than I was. But this damn baby of yours is a pain." Y/n laughs earning a small smile though he still isn't feeling as relieved as he hoped to feel hearing from her.
"Oh they're only my baby now?"
"They are when I'm literally hospitalised because of them. No child of mine would be annoying." Y/n jokes before sighing. "I'm going to be watching you tomorrow. Don't let this effect you, ok?"
"I'm trying." Lando mumbles since it's really not that easy. "I don't like leaving you."
"Well, hopefully this medication will keep away the morning sickness and I'll be able to come out to races till the 6 month mark like the midwife said at the start." Y/n states making her boyfriend hum. "Lando...I can't read your mind..."
"I just want to be there with you. I'm supposed to be taking care of you and I'm not even in the same country as you."
"I went into the this pregnancy knowing you couldn't always be there. I know you care, Lando and the worry making your voice break every time you talk let's me know it's genuine...but I'm ok, the baby is perfectly healthy and moving around in there. It's all ok."
"I'm getting straight on a flight after the race. Zak knows, the team will just have to understand that I have an emergency I couldn't leave for and so I have to leave as soon as media is done." Lando states making her hum. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm not going to complain about you coming back to me sooner, especially because I need you to grab some things from the apartment. Kelly brought a few things but I know you'll know what I want that I haven't thought of."
"Of course." Lando finally laughs a little.
Since Lando doesn't want to let her go from the call till he could really avoid it, he kept her on the phone and just told the team that y/n needed him.
-
Max ended up going back early with Lando and went to the hospital just to pick up Kelly since she's still there just to make sure everything is ok with y/n.
'"Hey-oh is she asleep?" Lando whispers appearing in the hospital with Max.
"Yeah, she just fell asleep maybe half an hour ago." Kelly confirms as she stands up. "She did say she wants to you to wake her up when you get here, but I'll leave that up to you."
"Thanks. And thanks again for being here for her, I know you got P-"
"Oh P has loved visiting y/n, and I think she's enjoyed having P around. If not then she's been lying."
Y/n almost definitely loved having P around, she thinks the little girl is one of the most entertaining kids ever. Mainly when she picks on Max on stream but generally she just thinks she's funny.
"Still, thank you. It's good to know she's got someone here when I can't be here."
Kelly nods before Max brings the younger man in for a quick hug, mainly hoping to bring him a little bit of comfort and reassurance that he's there now and y/n is well within reach.
The two leave, presumably P had been taken by her nanny since she'd no doubt get bored quickly in a hospital.
Lando, meanwhile, sighs dropping the bags him and Max had stopped by his apartment to pick up before heading to the hospital. He moves around looking at y/n and frowning at the sight of her IV.
"Are you the boyfriend?" A nurse asks appearing in the room making him jump a little.
"Yeah." Lando nods while sighing. "Is she doing better?"
"She's great, just lost a little bit of a weight from not keeping food down and she was dehydrated. But we've already been feeding her well and making sure she is putting on some more weight. High fat foods is her prescription for now. I'm sure we can trust you to manage making sure that's the case." The nurse smiles seeming to check the IV. "Some pregnancies are more of a struggle than others. But she's clearly got good support and you obviously care a lot."
Lando nods rubbing his hands together before sighing as he looks at his sleeping girlfriend.
"I'll leave you with her." The nurse smiles scribbling down a note on her clipboard.
Lando sighs looking at y/n, debating following through on the request Kelly relayed to him of waking her up. He does sigh climbing on the free space on the bed. Thankfully, the hospital bed seems pretty spacious so he's not squishing y/n by laying with her.
"Y/n..." Lando whispers suddenly feeling impatient to hear from her directly that she's ok. "Baby?"
Y/n groans before she shifts around, a small smile on her lips.
"I missed you." Y/n mumbles finally letting her eyes open as she feels Lando's hand move to her small bump. "I'm ok, I'm better actually. Way better than how you left me."
"Good. That's...what I needed to know." Lando sighs earning a smile. "Did they say how long you're in here for?"
"Too long...a couple more days." Y/n pouts then looking at him for a moment. "But at least they fixed me up good."
-
To the surprise of no one, not least y/n. Lando did everything to have her at the next race weekend.
"Lando, we've seen you very proudly flaunting your girlfriend in the paddock. How is she doing?"
"Never better. She had really bad morning sickness, so the doctors wanted to keep an eye on her. But she's all good, can come to the races again." Lando smiles brightly. "Baby is very well too."
"Everything we like to hear. Well we won't keep you from her any longer. You guys take care and congratulations again."
"Thank you. You guys have a nice day." Lando nods before heading off with the McLaren PR girl following him. But Lando is still only focused on one thing which is returning to y/n between every single media duty or just general jobs he needs to do through the day.
Y/n is in fact not far from the media pen talking with Laura Winter who seems to be handing over a small gift of congratulation to the young woman.
"Thank you-oh my gosh." Y/n gasps then grinning as she peaks in the bag. "Oh Lando will love these, thank you so much."
Lando makes himself known by gently taking the gift bag from his girlfriend's hands and peaks inside while she rolls her eyes and shakes her head at him.
"Oh wow, thanks Laura." Lando laughs making Laura smile brightly clearly proud of her choice of gift getting approval by both the parents.
The gift is a little beanie with an embroidered number 4 on it and papaya colour baby-sized crocs.
"Going to be the babies first hat and shoes." Lando grins hugging the woman with one arm. "Anyway, I have to force feed y/n. But thank you."
"High fat diet." Y/n whispers to Laura who laughs suddenly not expecting such a comment. Lando guides y/n to the unit where she makes another comment that sets him off. "I'm not really hungry at the moment, Lan."
"Are you not feeling well? You took your anti-sickness medication before breakfast, didn't you?" Lando states checking his phone since he documents what time she takes the medication and what day just so he can track it.
"Baby, I took the medication. But you ordered me like 10 pancakes with a shit load of fruit and syrup." Y/n laughs but she sighs looking at Lando's expression. "Ok, maybe something small and light. But nothing huge. Please. My stomach is already shrinking with a growing baby pressing on it. I can't fit as much as you want me to eat."
"Calorie dense. Got it. I'll grab you something." Lando smiles quickly kissing her. "Sit down."
Y/n sighs sitting down and finding he's sat her with Oscar.
"Hi, Osc." Y/n greets with a smile and nod.
"Hey, being force fed again?"
"He's going to counteract the medication if he keeps it up." Y/n hums while Oscar nods little before tilting his head to look behind her. "Please tell me he's not piled stuff onto a plate."
"No. I think he might've grabbed something for himself too." Oscar states almost sounding like he wants to be right but isn't very confident about it.
"Lando..." Y/n grimaces seeing him place the plate down.
"Some of it's for me." Lando states quickly in his own defence earning a hum from the young woman as she picks at some chips. "Love you."
"Yeah, love you too. Even if you panic at the slightest thing." Y/n laughs while shifting so she can rest her legs over his closest leg.
Turns out having something to eat triggers a new hunger that she didn't expect to feel, but as per recent cravings. She wants something sweet.
"Where you going?" Lando asks, interrupting his own conversation when y/n moves her legs from on top of his.
"I want something sweet." Y/n mumbles making him smirk a little as she stands up and adjusts her dress. "Shut up."
"I didn't say any."
"You were thinking it." Y/n huffs biting him bite his lip to keep himself quiet. He gets up following her regardless of hating that he's right.
"The cheesecakes look nice." Lando comments standing behind her earning a hum as she leans back on him a little. "You could get some and then we can ask them to save you one slice of each for later."
"I'm going to get so fat." Y/n murmurs feeling Lando gently kissing her neck.
"Shut up." Lando tsks while hugging his arms around her before he decides to speak for her. "Hey, can she have one slice of each cheesecake?"
"Of course." The caterer nods with a bright smile. "Congratulations on the baby, I'm never sure when might be alright to comments, but the two of you look so happy. I had to."
"Thank you." Y/n smiles slightly flustered over the woman's words before she hands the boxed up slices to Lando who thanks her before guiding y/n away.
Y/n oddly spend the rest of the day carrying her slices of cheesecake around so she can take odd bites here and there, also offering bites to others. Mainly people within the McLaren team who are more than happy to accept it, sharing their thoughts on the flavour.
"Ok, I finished them. I think I gave away like 10 bites to other people. But I just ate the better part of like 6 slices of cheesecake and I'm not even sorry for it. It was the best decision." Y/n states as she pushes the box into a bin. "Worth it."
"I'm glad to hear it." Lando smiles as they move to his drivers room for the end of the day.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03
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lilyarchived · 6 months
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distanced [simon "ghost" riley]
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a/n: can you tell i like writing angst?
warnings: swearing, hurt to comfort, fem outfit, a little ooc if you squint, 1.201 words oops
summary: after a fight with ghost, you don’t pay any attention to him for the whole day, deciding it’s what he wants anyway.
“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” you sniffle, turning your back and grabbing your keys, storming out of the little apartment complex you two had been sharing for 6 months. his breathing was heavy, his huge form heaving up and down as he just watched you leave. ‘that’s it, then?’ you think to yourself, hesitant to keep walking to your car. god it was freezing. you go to fix your coat but you haven’t brought one. sighing, you quicken your pace to the car. it was dark out. 
your drive to your old apartment was quick, it was 2 am and the only cars out were people who had night shifts. you just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that’s all; yet that seemed to set him off. screaming and tears were all that you remembered. you remembered how you flinched when he raised his hand to fix his hair. you remember his horrified look. you remember getting in your car and, oh. that’s now.
you reach your apartment and the first thing you do is lay down for 10 minutes to cool down. after deciding that’s enough moping around, you take a good look at your surroundings and decide it’s time for redecorating. you spent the whole early morning moving furniture around and hanging up new posters and renewing bedsheets, and adding new scents to your humidifier, and blasting feel good songs, and.. and.. you miss him.
never mind that, you finish up and decide to take time for yourself to unwind, showering, skincare, reading, and doing all sorts of your hobbies you haven’t gotten the chance to do. sitting comfortably on your polished couch as you flip through the pages of your book and take a long sip of your warm coffee, you start to appreciate life and yourself just a little bit more. that doesn’t help the fact that there is a part of you longing for him, missing how he’d usually be behind you cuddling, some documentary playing in the background as his soft snores fill the silence.
stop it! god! get a grip, [Y/N]! stop thinking about him! what’s so good about Lieutenant Simon “ Ghost “ Riley anyway!? it’s not like he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, not like he has that one soft look whenever it comes to you, it’s not like,, you love him. a long and exaggerated sigh came out of you as the realisation hits. you do love him. but what does it matter now? it’s been 4 long hours since you’ve seen him, he hasn’t even called! you check your phone again to look for any missed calls but all you get is a message from soap saying “yer late 2day?” ‘ohhh no.’ “shit.” you mumble as you search for your keys as you race to your car and get to the base as fast as you can. 
you blast through the debriefing room wearing a brown tank top with a brown cardigan hanging loosely, your moss green long skirt ruffled as you plop your messenger bag on the table, hair claw barely keeping your wild hair up. headphones still hanging on your neck as you apologise for being late. “glad to see you’ve dressed up first, eh?” price remarks with a small smile as he continues talking, your cheeks blushing from embarrassment, forgetting to get into uniform since you had left in such a rush. you straighten your hair as you take notes during the whole meeting, all while feeling a familiar pair of eyes scan your body.
you’re purposefully ignoring him, going straight to your office once the debriefing was over, despite his calls for your name. he didn’t wanna spend time with you? that’s fine, you’ll give him what he so desperately wants. you lock yourself in the room to take at least 3 minutes to just get a hold of yourself and breathe. you finally get up to do some of the paperwork you’ve been putting off, and get to price’s office to be assigned more.
“this is unusual, you want more work?” he raises an eyebrow at you before filing some more paper. “yes sir.” a hum is all you get out of him. you stand there for at least another minute waiting for more orders, that is until he calls in the man you’ve been dreading to see. “WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD YOU-” you shut up instantly as you hold your breath when his big frame comes in. “go help him out with drills, since you so badly want to work.” your captain’s sassy ass voice is making your eye twitch, but you nonetheless comply. you were the first to step out of the room infuriated and hot-headed, awaiting more orders from your lieutenant.  
as soon as you finish up helping the new recruits as ordered, you ignored your boyfriend's orders of wanting to talk after the drills. you speed walk to your room to lay down, bruised feet and sore back, whining and groaning at the pain. you immediately sit up as you hear your bedroom door creak open, wondering who it is since you had it locked. you go through the list of who could have your key and the only one to cross your mind is your boyfriend you’ve been ignoring for the whole day. and to no surprise it’s him, simon riley, who walks into your door and kneels beside your legs.
“what’re you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and groggily shuffling your hair. he just sighs and starts massaging your legs, hoping you would take this as a silent apology. “god stop it, simon.”
he doesn’t listen to your complaints as he pushes your small frame (compared to his, i mean c'mon this man is a giant) on the bed, laying you down as he cuddles on top of you. “si- i can’t breathe.” he only shifts a little to the side so that he wouldn’t accidentally crush you with his sheer strength. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry like that.” your eyes flutter shut as you calm your breathing, still being bear hugged by your lieutenant beside you. “was so worried, thought i’d never see you again.” his deep vibrating voice tickles your ears, making you slightly happy. the warmth you’ve been longing for was back.
“don’t you ever do that to me again.” you whisper, finally hugging him back and facing him for the first time in a while. “yes ma’am.” he replies, moving your stray hair strands back to see your face better. “won’t ever let you go again.”
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a/n: outfit i was thinking of ,, anyway this was kinda like forced, i’ve been wanting to write this for so long and only got the time to do so now sooooooooooooo hope u like it mwua mwua stay hydrated
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macfrog · 9 months
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you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one
requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)
lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️
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pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)
word count: 7.8k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”
It’s Friday night.
You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.
It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.
Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.
Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.
“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.
“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”
“He won’t be pissed at you?”
“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”
She shrugs, agreeing.
“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”
Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.
It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.
It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.
“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”
You lean back, bored expression on your face.
Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.
“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”
He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.
“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”
He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”
“Don’t wanna.”
“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”
“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”
His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.
“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”
Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.
Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.
“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”
“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.
Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.
His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.
He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.
You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.
But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.
Probably not a coincidence.
Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.
His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.
“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.
You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?
Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.
Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.
Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.
Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.
“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.
You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.
Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”
“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.
“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”
It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.
“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.
“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”
“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”
“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”
You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.
You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.
“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.
“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.
He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”
“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.
“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”
Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”
“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”
“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.
Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.
“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”
“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”
You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.
Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.
He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.
His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.
Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.
“I hate work parties,” you sigh.
Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”
You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.
“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”
Baby. This fucker.
“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.
He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”
He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?
Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.
You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?
You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.
Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.
Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.
“What?”
She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”
They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.
You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.
“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.
“Huh?”
“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”
“Why is everyone heading across the street?”
He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”
“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.
“I know. I throw a good party, right?”
“So good, people are leaving it.”
He tuts. “Coat. Now.”
“I didn’t bring one.”
“You didn’t bring a coat?”
“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”
“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”
He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.
“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”
“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”
He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.
“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.
He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.
His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.
One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.
You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.
“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”
“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.
“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”
You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”
You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.
You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.
No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.
You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.
The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.
Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.
A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.
The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.
“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?
You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.
It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.
His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.
Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.
“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”
“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.
You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”
He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”
You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.
Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.
“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.
“Really?”
“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.
He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”
“Dick.”
“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”
“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”
You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.
“Change, please.”
“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”
“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”
He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.
Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”
“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.
He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.
You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.
I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.
As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.
She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.
“Where you goin’?” he asks.
“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.
Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”
“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”
“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”
Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.
“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”
You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?
Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.
That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.
They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.
“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.
“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.
You nod. “You?”
“Mhm.”
His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.
You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.
The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.
“Sorry,” you mutter.
He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.
“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”
The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.
You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.
You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.
“You okay?” he asks.
You nod lazily. “Tired.”
Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.
It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.
“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”
“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.
“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”
You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”
“Be safe, baby.”
“You be safe, too. Bye.”
You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.
You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.
All. Fucking. Weekend.
In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.
In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.
Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.
It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…
No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.
It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?
And is your cunt beginning to throb again?
You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.
“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.
“Huh?”
“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”
“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”
“Yup.”
“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”
“Cool, thanks.”
You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.
Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.
“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”
“Anything good?”
He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.
“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.
You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.
“That bad, huh?”
“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”
He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”
Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.
He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.
“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.
“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”
His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.
“Good job, baby.”
You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.
You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.
“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”
“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”
You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”
“That can wait until after.”
“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”
He steps forward. Your heart stutters.
“You’ll be in here with me.”
You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”
“I need you in here. To take–”
“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”
He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.
“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”
Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.
Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.
You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.
Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.
“Makes for a nice view, too.”
You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.
Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”
Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.
Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.
Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.
“Will you fucking quit it?”
“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.
You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”
“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”
You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.
“My mistake.”
You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.
“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”
“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”
“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”
Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.
“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.
You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.
For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.
You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.
He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.
His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.
It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.
You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.
You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.
“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”
“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”
Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.
You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”
Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.
“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”
“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.
He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.
“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”
And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.
“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.
“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.
The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.
It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.
Joel feels you, knows you’re close.
“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”
“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”
“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”
That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.
You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.
There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.
He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.
You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.
His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.
“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.
He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.
“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”
“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.
“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”
“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.
He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.
You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.
A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.
You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.
The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.
“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”
You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”
This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.
Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.
Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.
You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.
“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.
You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.
“My m-mouth.”
“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.
It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.
On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.
With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.
He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.
“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”
You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.
Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.
“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.
Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”
He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.
His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.
Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.
When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.
“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”
He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.
He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.
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ellemj · 3 months
Text
Dreaming About Me?: 12 Days of Smut #8
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: Dreaming about Bucky during a stay in a safehouse leads to a morally-grey situation.
Warnings: profanity, teasing, masturbation, mutual masturbation, mentions of unprotected sex, wet dream, fingering, slight voyeurism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2k
A/N: This one felt pretty weak when I was writing it but I had a rough day lmao, hopefully the last 4 days will make up for it. I don't know how many of you read these A/Ns but...the Christmas day post will have something to do with Needs & Wants, do with that what you will.
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            The cool metal fingers slide your panties down your thighs, as far down as he can get them until you finish the task by kicking them off of your ankles and letting them disappear somewhere within the mess of bedsheets. His vibranium hand glides over the curve of your ass, disappearing between your legs and giving you the expectation of pleasure, but refusing to touch you where you need him most. Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, each nerve ending sparking with electricity just from being so close to him.
            “Bucky, please.” You whine, fisting the bedsheets and pushing back against him as much as possible, trying to encourage him to touch you more. You’re basically spooning in your current position, or at least you would be if he’d let you move any closer to him.
            “So impatient.” He tsks, laughing darkly after the words leave his mouth. His lips attach to the skin of your neck, sucking and biting gently, surely leaving you peppered with red and pink marks that will darken later on. “Do you want me to touch you?”
            “Please, I need it.” You moan out, stretching out your neck in hopes that he’ll continue his unrelenting ministrations there.
            You’re awoken abruptly, squeezing your thighs together and gripping the bedsheets tightly in your left fist, just like in the dream that you didn’t get to finish. You relax your legs, losing the delicious feeling of friction between them just as you realize how wet your panties are.
            “Y/n?” Bucky’s voice is quiet and breathy as he checks to see if you’re awake. You feel your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. You can only hope that you weren’t talking in your sleep, or more that you weren’t moaning in your sleep. You slowly turn over on your opposite side and once you’re facing him, you find him only a few inches away from you. He lies facing you with the covers bunched up around his waist, showing off his toned chest and rippled abs.
            “Did I wake you?” You ask innocently, trying to hide the fact that you just had a dirty dream about the man who’s lying right there next to you. But honestly, there isn’t a single person in the world that could fault you for the content of that dream. Just looking at him right now makes it feel as though you’re still in a wet dream.
            “Yeah, you were…” Bucky’s voice trails off as he tries to decide how to word what he’s about to say. You squeeze your eyes shut, ready to flee the shitty little safehouse and run straight out into the woods to be struck by lightning or maybe a falling tree to be put out of your misery. “You said my name.” Bucky’s sure of it. You definitely, one-hundred-percent said his name. It wasn’t even his name alone, it was paired with the neediest please that Bucky has ever heard. It’s why his dick is straining so hard against the fabric of his sweats right now.
            “Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve been dreaming.” You mumble, turning back over and resuming your previous position, squeezing your legs together again, but for a different reason this time. You know how heightened Bucky’s senses are, and you know that his sense of smell could easily pick up your arousal from how close you currently are. That’s the last thing you need to happen.
            “Dreaming about me?” He knows the answer is a resounding yes, but he wants to hear you admit it.
            “Maybe it was a nightmare.” You lie, earning a soft laugh from him.
            “Bullshit, you moaned my name.” He says, clearly ready and willing to discuss what he thinks he just witnessed. He’s slightly annoyed and offended that you’d try to lie right to his face after lying next to him and making such needy sounds for the past two minutes. He knows he’s right. You were having a dream about him while he laid beside you and listened to you moan and whimper for two minutes straight. You moaned his fucking name.
            “I did not.” You argue, knowing full well that you probably did moan his name out loud, but absolutely refusing to admit it. You’d rather tell a hundred lies and piss him off with your dishonesty than admit to him that you were dreaming about exactly what he thinks you were dreaming about. He’s your colleague, and currently, your partner on a very tricky undercover mission. You don’t need to complicate things for either of you.
            “Are you going to tell me what we were doing?”
            “Absolutely not.”
            “So, it was a sex dream.” Bucky decides. You can tell from his tone of voice that he has a smug smile painted across his face. You groan and throw the covers back, stomping away to the bathroom.
            “Go back to sleep.” You grumble as you cross the threshold of the bedroom door and disappear into the dark hallway beyond. Bucky lies in bed for a few seconds after you’re gone, smiling to himself at this new development in your relationship. Can he even call it that? A relationship? Probably not, but he sure as hell doesn’t feel like he can call it a regular partnership between colleagues. You’ve only been on a total of three missions together, each one involving the two of you undercover as a couple, and each one involving an inordinate amount of public displays of affection. At first, you both tried to argue your way out of being sent out on such an assignment. You preferred simpler missions like stealing intel or recovering stolen SHIELD property, always working alone. Bucky preferred basically any mission that didn’t involve him having to put on an act. Yet, somehow, you both ended up being naturals. That’s how you ended up in this safehouse tonight, acting as bait to gain the enemy’s attention while Sam and Sharon break into a secure facility to steal something that’s of minimal interest to you. While there isn’t any type of surveillance inside of the small house, you know the second you turn on a light or step out onto the front porch, you’d be watched like a hawk.
            You’re in the bathroom splashing cold water on your face while Bucky lies on his back in bed, running his hands through his hair. He tries to rationalize with his vascular system. He needs his hard-on to have completely dissipated by the time you get back in here, or it’ll only get worse. He’s just about to tuck it underneath his waistband when he hears the shower begin running. He actually laughs out loud this time, but not loud enough that his voice carries to the bathroom. He’s positive that you’re about to take a cold shower. What the hell else could you be doing?
            You’re not taking a cold shower. You’d considered it, but then you asked yourself why you should let this moment go to waste. You’ve been on three missions back-to-back in the last week and you’ve barely had a moment to yourself. You’ve barely had a moment to do anything for yourself. So, you simply turned on the shower faucet and let the water run as you seat yourself on the floor and spread your legs. It may be a bit morally-grey, getting yourself off while thinking about your work partner, who happens to be sitting just down the hall. But morally-grey is going to have to do for now, because you can’t sleep like this. Sliding your right hand down the front of your shorts and panties, you draw in a sharp inhale as the pads of your fingers meet the excessive wetness between your legs. You knew you were horny but fuck, that little dream about Bucky really did you in. You know you have to be quick, so you start circling your fingertips around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure and angling your open legs just right. You’ve always been so good at pleasuring yourself, sometimes able to make yourself reach an orgasm in under a minute if you’re really focused and turned on. Somehow, this time it’s even easier. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the only thing on your mind is Bucky Barnes. You close your eyes tightly and rub fast circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, letting the dream from earlier replay in your mind. You can almost feel Bucky’s hand in place of your own and your chest begins to rise and fall quickly with each breath you take.
            “Fuck.” The whimpered curse leaves your lips so quietly that you don’t even worry about whether or not Bucky can hear you, because you’re sure that he can’t.
            But he heard you. Of course he fucking heard you. If you thought that his heightened senses were good enough to pick up the smell of your arousal through your pajamas then you should’ve assumed that his heightened sense of hearing could pick up your whimper from fifteen feet away. The melodious sound drifted down the hallway and straight to his ears, causing his already hard cock to let out another little drop of precum against the fabric of his boxers. He strains his ears as he tries to determine if the sound was really what he thinks it was. When he hears a second soft fuck followed by what sounds so much like his name, he’s pretty sure you’re touching yourself. He wants nothing more than to break down the fucking door. He wants to break down the door and see how you’re falling apart for him, without even having his hands on you. But he knows that isn’t an option. Instead, he chooses the most morally-grey option available.
            Bucky reaches into the waistband of his sweats and boxers and wraps his hand around the shaft of his cock, quickly setting a good pace as he begins stroking it. His hand glides up and down, spreading the abundant amount of precum along the entire length as his head falls back into the pillow. He knows it’s wrong, but if you’re doing it then why can’t he? Another moan falls from your lips down the hall and Bucky’s cock twitches in his hand. He didn’t expect his body to respond so much just to the sounds you make. He can tell by the quick breaths and uncontrollable curses escaping you that you’re close already, so he quickly works to catch up. He isn’t sure why he’s so set on finishing at the same time as you. If anything, he should want to finish first so he can quickly clean himself up and get back into bed before you notice anything amiss. But Bucky feels an undeniable urge to finish with you. Truthfully, he wishes he was finishing inside you, but for now, he can settle for simply cumming at the same time.
            You’re so close to your orgasm that you can’t stop yourself from letting out a few moans and curses. You tell yourself that the sound of the running water will drown you out and Bucky won’t hear a thing, but a little part of you is hoping that he not only hears you, but that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. You imagine him touching himself at the mere sound of you, stroking his cock at a pace that matches your own, chasing his release right alongside you. When you finally fall over the edge, letting bliss overtake your entire body, you moan out his name just like you did in your sleep earlier.
            “Bucky, please.”
            He imagines that’s how you’d sound when you’re begging him to cum inside you. So, as soon as the words have left your mouth, Bucky’s own orgasm washes over him in waves as he fucks his hand. He imagines you taking every drop of his release, filling you up and then listening to your pretty little voice thank him for cumming inside of you.
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propertyofwicked · 4 days
Text
SECRETS part 4 - LN
content warnings: fluff, angst, drama (the whole shabang).
ur girl is going back to working full time tomorrow so if we have slow updates blame my place of work. also, im still recovering from the 4am wakeup and lando p3
part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> next part
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“max pick up the damn phone,” y/n said, taking great strides across the paddock towards the car park. once again, the phone call had gone to voicemail. she clicked his contact details, ringing him again. only this time, it didn’t even ring. the phone went straight to voicemail. and to add to the matter, max’s car had disappeared from the car park.
y/n sat on the empty floor of the empty parking spot her brothers car had been in, opening up her phone to check the time and send a message to max, she probably should’ve waited for the mix of fear and anger to fade, but here she was, tapping aggressively at the screen of her phone.
if you think you can ignore me forever, you’ve got another thing coming
dont think you can jump to conclusions and throw a childlike strop about this.
but of course, the messages stayed on delivered for hours. it was at least 2 hours before lando’s caller id popped up on her phone, still with no word from max.
“hey, where did you go? mum said something about you walking off,” lando asked her the moment she answered the call.
“currently? i’m sat on the floor of the car park. where are you - ill walk over now,” she said bluntly. he stayed on the line until she entered the mclaren unit.
“y/n? what do you mean max has left?” panic rising in his voice as she walked up to him, his hands coming to rest on her waist.
“i mean he’s left. gone. driven off,” she said with a shrug, “he won’t answer my calls, hasn’t read my texts, he’s just gone.”
“he might be at the hotel? we’ll drive over in a bit and see?”
“i don’t think we should do anything, i think we might have done enough damage for one day.”
“y/n your brother has just driven off. you should at least try and check if he’s at the hotel.”
“fine, but i’m going alone.”
“let me try and talk to him first, you never know something might’ve happened with P?” lando said, still stroking her hips softly, desperately trying to think of any reason that his best friend had up and left.
4 unanswered calls later, and lando and y/n found themselves sat on the sofa in his driving room again, her head laying on her lap as he stroked her hair, trying to resolve the anxiety.
“i don’t care what he thinks, y/n. i feel so strongly about you and i think i have for years.”
“i think i have too. but i hate the thought of people disliking me, let alone my own brother.”
“i know, angel. he’ll come around soon, i promise.”
“that man held a grudge against me for years when i accidentally scraped the side of his kart when i was 12,” she said, laughing sadly at the memory of their parents having to sit them down in the living room and make them apologise to each other. the moment was quickly interrupted by her phone ringing, max’s caller id popping up on the screen.
“ma-”
“no. don’t talk to me. you two have lied to my face for years about this. lando promised me he would never even think about you in that way. and you, i don’t know what ive done to you for you to go behind my back and fuck my best friend but it’s not on.”
“max i-” lando tried to reason with him.
“oh, of course he’s there. just waiting for the moment i left to start fucking my sister, didn’t you?”
“it’s not like that, max.”
“no? then what is it like? ‘cos from where im standing it’s pretty clear he’s been waiting years to take advantage of my little sister,” he argued down the phone, venom rolling off his tongue.
“take advantage of me?” she scoffed, moving to sit up and hold the phone next to her mouth, “who the fuck do you think you are to talk to or about me in that way? who gave you the audacity to believe you have any control over who i choose to date? you couldn’t care less about protecting me, you only care about protecting yourself," she said, her voice raising and her finger moving to point as if he were stood in front of her.
“he’s not right for you.”
“that’s your opinion max. if you can’t trust me, or lando for that matter, then why should i bother giving you a moment more to talk down to me?”
lando sat silently next to her, playing with his own fingers. this was not his fight to fight right now. he’d speak to max privately later, right now, he knew y/n needed to stand up for herself, and god was she smashing it.
“why can’t you just listen to me?” max sighed, defeated, “i know what’s good for yo-”
“go fuck yourself,” she said, hanging up the call, and dropping her phone on the floor besides her. lando’s arms move to behind her waist, pulling her back to rest into him on the sofa. the room fell into silence.
“im sorry,” she mumbled.
“don’t be sorry. this is on him, and me. i should’ve told him the truth the first time round. hell, i should’ve told you the truth earlier.”
“i’ve ruined your big day, lan. p2 - you should be celebrating, not arguing with your best friend.”
“im with you - that’s celebration enough,” he said, happy to see her smile for the first time in hours. she moved to lay her head back down on lando’s lap, this time looking up at him. a knock on the door brought the two of them back to reality, and cisca walked in, adam trailing slightly behind.
y/n contemplated moving, jumping away from the boy who was currently running his hands through her hair, but it had only been 4 hours of hiding whatever was going on between the two of them and she was already bored of keeping up the pretence.
“y/n, love, did you find max?” cisca asked, eyes softening at the scene unfolding in front of her. had she secretly wished for this for years? maybe.
“yea, he um, he went home.”
“he’s not happy about this, is he?” adam said, pointing between the two of you, yet even he couldn’t help but smile slightly.
“not happy, fuming, absolutely raging - i guess you could say that,” she replied, laughing slightly to ease any tensions.
“he’ll come around lovely, he can’t stay mad at you. you’re his sister after all.”
“i love that you think so highly of my brother, cisca. he will go to the grave holding this grudge if he can.”
“ill talk to him later ang- y/n,” lando said, correcting himself quickly, not comfortable enough yet to be overly affectionate in front of his parents.
“good luck with that,” y/n joked, patting him on the arm sadly.
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later that evening, y/n found herself sat on the floor of lando’s hotel rifling through her bag to find her pyjamas. earlier, her and lando had driven to her hotel room, to find that max had packed his stuff and left as expected. she didn’t want to be alone, and lando didn’t want to leave her alone. her phone began to ring, and she answered it praying it wasn’t max.
“y/n the videos of you are going feral on twitter right now,” her best friend, caitlin, shouted down the phone the moment she picked up.
“stop it - what are people saying?”
“erm, some people think it’s cute?” he friend responded, voice laced in slight worry.
“…and the rest of them think im a slut?” y/n added, but her friend only responded with a hum.
“what’s max said?”
“from what i remember, he drove off leaving me stranded at the track and then rang me to say i was making a mistake, i was a liar and he never wanted to speak to me or lando ever again.”
“taking it well then,” the girl responded, y/n could hear her eyes rolling. at that moment, lando emerged from the bathroom, with just a towel hanging around his waist. any words y/n intended to say got stuck in her throat. he took strides towards her, noticing she was on the phone and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before moving to his own suitcase to find a change of clothes.
“y/n…are you in lando’s room right now?”
“maybe?” y/n responded in a guilty tone, quieter than she had before, glad lando couldn’t hear the girl on the other side of the phone. however, he seemed to clock on to the question from the small grin on her face.
“girl why did you answer the phone? go spend time with your new controversial boyfriend.”
“he’s not my b- you know what, i’m gonna go.”
“dont do anything i wouldn’t do, stay safe!” her friend added cheerily, laughing as she ended the call. cheery was the furthest emotion from what y/n felt at this moment in time.
once y/n was in her pyjamas, she moved her way back into the room, lando was sat up in bed, his back resting on the headboard, phone in hand. he looked up as she walked in, patting the spot next to him for her to join. her face fell into a look that screamed apprehension.
“y/n nothing bad will happen if you get into this bed and cuddle with me.”
“something bad already happened,” she said, climbing under the duvet next to him nonetheless. his hand reached behind her waist pulling her into his chest, her head coming to rest on him.
“im happy this happened, but im not happy about every thing that’s happening as a result," she told him, her eyes blinking slowly as the exhaustion from todays drama caught up with her.
“i know baby,” he responded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “get some sleep. we’ll sort this out tomorrow, i promise.”
★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶
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jarofstyles · 7 months
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Letting Loose
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Another installment of best friend’s dadrry!!
Now.... Listen. It's filth. Straight up, but their dynamic is building so you can see some stuff starting... hehe. PLEASEEEE let us know if you want more of them. xoxo 
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Part 3
Reminder that Y/N is an adult and met him as one too <3
warnings- smut, choking, spit play (sorta), daddy kink, age gap, degradation, name calling, mention of ex, jealousrry, forbidden/taboo relationship, breeding kink xoxo
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Y/N knew what she was doing.
She was taunting him. Teasing him. Making him mad. Harry was a possessive man, and both of them knew it. He had declared her body as his multiple times, now becoming every time they had sex. And ever since Lia had gotten a girlfriend, she had been out of the house a lot more- which meant that Y/N had been in the house without the risk of her friend catching her on her knees for her father.
Harry was a generous man in all capacities. He had let her stay when her apartment flooded, had always provided food and paid for her when they all went out, left money out for them to order pizza, even paying for their trip to Cancun after graduation. But it seemed his generosity knew no bounds when it came to Y/N, unfiltered.
His hands snuck underneath his shirt, mouth connecting to her bruised neck as she finished applying her nightly skincare. Lia had gone on a ‘mountain retreat’ with her girlfriend last night and wasn’t due home for another 4 days, which Harry was taking full and complete advantage of.
With an empty house, having Y/N there felt a bit like a different universe. Harry had been indulging in his touches, grabbing at her and pulling her into his lap, swimming with her in the pool, holding her to his chest while she made breakfast. He was borderline clingy, but he knew that’s how he was when he liked someone. Attached at the hip.
When he got his divorce, he had strayed far away from this sort of thing. He had his one night stands but ultimately had decided to lay off if anything romantic since his marriage had ended up being a disaster. Lia had been the one good thing to come out of it- and he knew he was playing a dangerous game, sleeping with her best friend, but it was more than that.
That was something else that scared him. This girl, this sweet woman who had come into his life in such a way that should make him take 10 steps back, had him closer to her than ever. Closer than he had allowed himself to be with anyone else. She was just… refreshing. Invigorating. Their conversations had been enjoyable pre-sex, her mind always impressing him with the things that came out of her mouth- but now that he got to see her with almost no boundaries? His admiration for the woman had increased tenfold.
Just laying in bed talking, bringing up moral questions and things that she believed, their fingers lazily linked together as she talked with her hands and moved them about- it was one of the things he loved the most. Then there were moments like the current one, where he hadn’t given her a moment alone in the bathroom.
“H, please.” She hummed, taking the peach face toner and placing it down. “You’re making me spill.” His mouth on her neck had distracted her from the task at hand, shakily applying the toner to a cotton round as she tried to finish her routine before moisturizer. It was a very strict and thorough one.
“M’sorry.” He sighed, pulling away from her neck but making no motion fo take his hands out under her shirt. Her skin was warm and silky, stomach clenching as his hands sprawled out over it. “Just… gets to me when I see my marks on you.” He rested his cheek against hers, looking at their reflection in the mirror.
While it was apparent that he was older than her, they looked.. good. He had been surprised the first time he saw it, how she had melted into his grip and blinked into the reflection with a nod. It didn’t look like a father and daughter- thank fucking god- but it looked like they were a good looking couple. One that people would perhaps understand the gap considering they were both good looking and Harry wasn’t an old bag quite yet. He did have some graying at the temples, but Y/N had let him know how much she liked the idea of him being a ‘silver Fox’.
“I know.” She peeped, looking at them in the mirror. A dark mark resided on the curve of her jaw, the other hidden under the skirt and on her thighs. “Can’t be so careless when Lia gets back, though. Unless you want me to make up a whole story about some guy I’m seeing again. We both know how much Daddy doesn’t like that.” Her tone was teasing, a faux pout taunting him about the subject.
So, maybe, possibly, he had fucked her within an inch of her life the last time she had used that excuse. That she had blamed it on one of those stupid boys she met at the bars and said they’d gone out and done the deed in the car when in reality, the origin of the marks had been from a few days prior when she had been at Harry’s office riding him on his couch. Risky, all things considered.
His jaw set as he pulled his hands out from her top, turning her around so he could look into her eyes. “None of that. You don’t have to get so… detailed in those stories either.” He huffed. “We both know that none of those boys could give you half of what Daddy gives you. None of the orgasms, none of the pretty gifts, none of the sweetness. So I don’t want t’hear about these fake hookups.”
Y/N liked this. When he got huffy and possessive, when he got the fiery glare and clenched jaw. She loved to taunt him and make him show her just how much he hated it. “No? Those boys can’t give me what Daddy can?” Her fingers trailed over his chest, tapping over his necklace. “That’s what your appeal is, isn’t it? Being a real man. Giving me all the things they haven’t gotten the experience to do. Even if it makes you a dirty old man to show me, you will.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth, fully expecting the next move.
Harry grabbed her hips and hauled her up to sit on the sink top before tangling his hand in her hair. “Watch it.” His warning made her shiver slightly, head tilted back by the firm grip he had in her hair. “Just hours ago you were on your knees begging for this ‘dirty old man’s cock down your throat.”
Y/N keened, a giggle leaving her throat as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled him closer, legs spreading so he could stand in between them. She loved to rile him up, to watch the flame burn inside of him. Getting his possessive reaction, this jealousy fueled her. She wouldn’t go off and do anything with anyone else- there was no desire or reason to. Harry had fully satisfied her every need. It was just nice to feel desired. To see him bristle at the thought of anyone else touching her because he wanted her all to himself. “I did. And I enjoyed every second of it.” Her voice was still slightly hoarse from the act. “Don’t need to get so jealous. You know I will end up with you. M’just covering for all the marks you’re giving me.”
“Don’t like thinking about it. Y’go out and reject all of them, I know you do. But the idea of it irritates me.” He exhaled, feeling her slightly damp fingers brush under his own shirt. Her head tilted back, her face bare from any makeup and glowing from the rigorous skincare routine she had just performed and pouted slightly up at him. “Don’t give me that lip, Petal.” His thumb caught it, tugging it down slightly before it snapped back into place. “Just like it when you remember that you’re Daddy’s girl, is all.”
The softened tone made her stomach dance, leaning into his hand with a content sigh. He took such good care of her. Y/N knew that she was playing a risky game but this sort of shit was worth it. “I am. M’your girl.” She peeked up at him with her own hazy eyes, letting her fingers catch on the waistband of his shorts. “Are you going to show me that I’m yours?” Dipping them in, she felt the prickle of his hair. Neatly cropped, trimmed to perfection, he kept just enough that made her mouth water. Enough to tickle her nose when she was able to get him down all the way.
“I’m going to make sure you remember for days, sweet girl.”
—-----
The sound of skin slapping filled the warmly lit bedroom. His bedroom was a sanctuary, somewhere off limits for anyone besides him- and much to anyone else’s surprise if they knew, Y/N. Soft, warm light emanated from a vintage lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle glow on the room while Harry looked down at the girl sprawled out underneath him, clutching the white sheets he had spent a stupid amount of money on. He only wanted the best for her and her body. Knowing she would be staying the whole week, sleeping with him the whole week, he had made arrangements to have the best of the best. To show her what was possible.
“There you go, baby. Just like that.” The depth of his voice made her shiver under him. Her cheek was pressed to his pillow, knees up and back arched as Harry took her from behind. It was the second round, her body deliciously sensitive but aching for more. Aching to please him and make him let loose on her body. A large, warm hand held her waist as he guided her back on to his cock, watching as she fucked herself on him. Pressing back into him and filling herself up, letting her ass hit his hips and ripple and move just the way he liked it.
“S’good?” She mewled, eyes hazy as she stared vacantly across the bedroom. “You like when I do this? Just want t’be a good girl for you, Daddy. Want you to feel good.” Her voice was wrecked, slurred as she had her cheek smushed against the softness of the icy white pillowcase. Her mouth watered, sure to drip in a little bit, but all the girl could do was take it. Sex had never been this good with anyone else in her life. The older man knew exactly what he was doing and how to do it.
Harry had always been such a patient, calm, controlled man since she had met him. Never raised a voice, never did a single thing inappropriately. He had played all the right cards, but since she had seen him again and everything had changed between them, she could see another part of him. A part she was desperate to help let loose.
The older man had a wildness, a depth to him that was unexplored. A taboo part of his desires that he had never allowed himself to look at. Y/N could see it, could feel it unraveling with each day she spent with him. She made him feel safe but invigorated, which was exactly what she wanted to do. This was something so wrong in theory, but it felt so right. There was no way his hand fit that perfectly on her waist for no reason. She had taunted and tugged at the seams keeping his deepest, darkest desires hidden, trying to unravel them for him. To fulfill the pieces he didn’t know had been missing.
“I do, baby. You are a good girl, my good little girl. Make me feel so fucking good. Never get enough of you, always want you with me. Want to be inside of you every single fucking day.” The man knew that if he had his own way, she would be the one he woke up to every morning and the one he went to sleep with at night. This entire week of playing house had woken up a bigger urge, a primal urge for the girl. An ownership. He was greedy and selfish, but he was loving every fucking second of it.
“You can. You can fuck me however you want, do whatever you want to me. Anything in the world. I just want to make Daddy happy.” Her voice was whiny, face rubbing against the pillow he slept with as he watched her ass recoil with each throw back of her cunt. His cock was glistening with her arousal, wet and slick from her past orgasm. She was going to have bruises on her hips, on her thighs, on her breasts from his handling of her. There would be no denying the fact that she had been fucked deep and thorough, that he had spent time and effort into making her writhe underneath him. “I’m your girl. You said it, I’m all yours to do whatever you want. Be dirty with me, Daddy. Let go. Fuck me how you want.”
Harry didn’t know how else he could want her. This much was a fantasy come alive. The sweet, tight cunt clenching over his cock was heavenly enough. Her encouragement didn’t stop, though.
“Know you're holding back from me. Tell me how much you love it. You love fucking tight, young pussy? You like the change from soulless sex with your ex wife who could barely get you half hard?” Her giggle was cut short by a harsh slap to her ass, the sting making to fall into a moan. “Mm, fuck. I love that. You do, don’t you? Know that it’s risky but you like being inside of me. M’the best pussy you’ve ever had. Admit it.” Y/N’s panting words had him clenching his jaw- mostly because she was right.
He had gone from subpar, emotionless sex to this. To an exciting, adventurous, dirty woman who he most definitely shouldn’t be sleeping with but was too addicting to the heart and to his cock. A woman he liked too much to call a friend with benefits, but was too risky to publicly announce as his girlfriend- even if he desperately wanted to.
The words had a thread snapping, his body crowding hers as he pressed his chest against her back as his cock continued the deeper thrusts, knocking her thighs together a bit more as he covered her body with his own. His hand fell flat against her pillow, a deep chuckle leaving his lips- one that sent a dangerous zing up her spine.
She had done it.
“You are. You’ve got the best cunt I’ve ever fucked, the best mouth I’ve ever fucked, and as soon as you let me in that pretty little ass? That will be mine, too. Most useful set of holes that’s ever walked through my door.” His rough tone had her moaning, success spreading through her body as his opposite hand that wasn’t keeping him up slipped under the pillow to grab her throat. “Been so nice to you when you just antagonize me. You want me to be really dirty, baby? My sweetheart wants to hear what really goes on in my mind every time I see her?”
“Yes, yes, yes. Please, Sir. Please. I want to know everything.” She was showing her hand, showing exactly how badly she wanted to know what went on in his head. “Tell me. Tell me, I wanna do it all for you.” Y/N would love it if he was a little mean, if he was a little more rough. She knew he treated her delicately because of who she was but that was exactly why she wanted him to lose it. “Treat me like your holes, Daddy.”
Harry had been slightly shocked at the words, though he shouldn't have been. Y/N had always shown that she was a dirty girl, but the depth of it was still to be discovered. It obviously went past a bit of exhibitionism.
“My sweet girl wants to be treated like a set of holes?” He laughed breathily. “Fuck. What am I going to do with you. Silly, silly girl.” He tightened the grip on the sides of her throat, feeling her squeeze around him. His thrusts increased in speed, weight bearing down on her to make her feel him everywhere. He wanted her to be engulfed in him.
“Every time you walk in that fucking door, I want to drag you away. Want you hanging off my cock every time I get the urge, because I know you’d love it. Been dirty since day fucking one, dragging me into that poolhouse and making me be a bad father. S’that what gets you off? Fucking your friend’s dad?” He snarled, breathing against her ear as his balls slapped against her cunt, getting them just as wet as he wanted.
“Y-yes, Just you, Daddy. Only ever you.” Her weak reply came out, hand covering his that held her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he gave it to her good, a new level to their activities unlocked. She had peeled back another layer of the man.
“Better have fucking been. But I know you’re a slut. Just for me. S’only ever been just for me. Just like you said, hm? Needed an older man to give it to you and then you got addicted. Poor little girl. Addicted to the one cock you shouldn’t crave.” His faux sadness made her whine, slickness dripping out of her cunt. The sharp thrusts and his tight grip, how she could barely move was one of the best things she had ever experienced.
“It’s mine.” Was what escaped her. The little thing had enough energy to say that, the stimulation to her body and the slap of his balls against her clit driving her dangerously close to her second orgasm of the night.
“Is it? Oh, silly little girl. What a desperate, selfish slut. You want my cock to be all yours?” He grinned against her skin, biting against her neck as he groaned. “It can be. You can have it. Drain me so fucking good, take all my cum so well, hm? S’what you deserve. Be a little set of holes for Daddy to stuff his cum into. You’re so good at it a-already. Fuck.” He hissed as he felt her cunt contracting, close to her orgasm. He could feel it, feel how close he had gotten her.
“You’re going to cum from that? God, look at you. Thought you were such a nice girl when my daughter first brought you home. Now you’re just a pretty cunt for me to cum inside. Think m’gonna keep you, though.” His prick was so wet it almost slipped out as his hips slammed into her, her quivering cunt urging him on. “Think I should make you stay. Should get my cum nice and deep and knock you up. What d’you think?” His grunted words sent her into a squirm, nodding reverently against his hand.
“Yeah- yeah, I’d want it. Can do it, keep me.” She babbled, eyes watering as she felt completely and utterly pathetic. The larger man was giving it to her just how she needed, the lightheadedness of his fingers rhythmically squeezing her neck and his dick fucking her better than any other thing she had felt having her right on the edge.
“Yeah? Gonna take my cum and give me a baby?” He laughed, drunk on pleasure. “That’s it. M’gonna do it. Drain my cum into your pussy and mark you as mine. Let it catch, let you get full of my baby and let everyone fuckin’ know who’s girl you are. F-Fuck, baby.. Please.” He grit out, mouth opening as he felt it. He could feel her falling over the edge, a broken moan escaping her swollen lips as he body squirmed underneath his own.
She gushed around his cock, whimpering out his name as the words and his actions had her falling over the crest. The slick, filthy sound of her drippy cunt being pounded by his cock and the grunts coming from the man above her filled the room as she could feel him finally starting to crack. His arm quivered, cock twitching in her pulsating pussy as he finally unloaded inside of her.
“Oh- oh my god, fuck.” He slurred out against her shoulder, biting down and getting a squeal from her as he growled against her skin. The most feral he’d ever been. His thrusts slowed but didn’t completely stop, Harry hellbent on fucking his cum as well into her as he could. He wanted her filled. Releasing the skin with his teeth, his tongue ran over the bite mark in apology, a grove of whispers growing from his lips.
“There we go. That’s my fucking girl.”
“Took me so good.”
“Wrecking me, m’so obsessed with you.”
“So proud of you.”
“Take such good care of me, sweet girl.”
They were followed with kisses, Harry lazily turning her head and connecting their mouths despite the odd angle as he finally stopped, letting himself stay buried inside of her. He could feel she had drooled a little bit, fueling his ego as he let them both cal down from the aftershocks of their orgasms.
“Mmm.. That’s what I’m talking about.” Y/N giggled tiredly, resting her cheek back against the pillow as he stroked the sweaty hair away from her face. “Told you I wanted you to let loose, that’s what I wanted. My god.” It was so good, she felt drunk. Drunk on good dick, apparnetly.
“Yeah.. well now you’re in trouble.” He mumbled, though the smile on his face indicated it wasn’t seriousl. “Didn’t know I had that in me… But now that I do, you’re the one who’s going to have t’deal with it.” He kissed her cheek, smirking to himself about how it had been so good she had let tears fall. This was a new high for him.
“I better be. We established that I’m yours and you’re mine. If I find out otherwise, m’gonna chop your dick off.”
Harry winced, shaking his head quickly. “No, baby. No. Don’t think I could get hard for anyone else at this point.” It was too true.
This girl had him completely and utterly fucked.
“Let me sit here for a minute and then I’ll take us to clean up. I’ll help you redo all your skin stuff.” He nuzzled against her cheek, placing a few little pecks on the hot skin. “Sorry I ruined it.”
“Trust me- I am never going to be mad at you for that when you fuck me that good.” Y/N snickered. Her heart did swell at the offer though. This man was unreal. “I’d be a fool to complain.”
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morganbritton132 · 8 months
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I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???
I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)
I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.
Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”
Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”
Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.
The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.
Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  
“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”
Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.
Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.
So, he knows.
He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.
There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.
Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.
He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!
It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.
 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.
Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”
“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”
Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”
“That happened one time!”
Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”
“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”
“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.
“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.
“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”
“Technically, I married him.”
“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”
“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
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kitten4sannie · 2 months
Text
ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ
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ᴍᴀꜱᴋ ᴋɪɴᴋ/ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ ➠ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ
pairing: intern! jongho x boss! reader (fem)
genre: office au, smut
summary: to relieve some stress after another long day of being the boss, you decide to visit your favorite dom at your local playroom. what you were not expecting, however, was to come face to face with your office’s intern instead.
w.c: 2.8k
warnings: hard (somehow still soft) dom! jongho, sub! reader, established bdsm relationship, jongho wears a teddy bear mask hehe/reader wears a kitty one, pet names (sweetheart, kitty, kitten, are we sensing a pattern here? TT), name calling, praise/degradation, use of hand cuffs, jongho puts reader over his lap ^^, paddling (ass/pussy), spit play, hair pulling, toy usage, strength kink, manhandling, overstim, brief oral (receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: never worked in an office before but this is my ideal office ✨fantasy✨ but also like jongho would be the cutest ??? intern??? he’d just come in and give you a cup of coffee with his sweet little gummy smile ughhhhh :’) enjoy, loves!
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“I’m really sorry to inform you of this right before the weekend starts, Ms. L/N, but we need to see at least a  20% increase in sales by next month,” your higher-up told you through the speaker phone sitting on your desk, almost distracting you from putting on your coat. 
“20%, sir?” you replied cordially, trying to dispel the attitude you wanted to give him at that moment.
“20%, Ms. L/N. You’ve been doing quite well this quarter, but my boss is breathing down my neck, asking me for more…I do apologize, but it’s what we need from you.”
You walked around the front of your desk, sitting on the edge of it to process the information, unconsciously reaching underneath the sleeve of your form-fitting blouse to rub at the rope burns still embedded in your skin from your last visit to your local bdsm playroom, wishing you were there again, not having to focus on numbers and percentages, but on the pain and pleasure that was enveloping your body. 
“Ms. L/N…?” the man said softly into the speaker when he didn’t get a reply from you.
You came out of your temporary fog, sitting up straight and fixing the hem of your tight skirt, despite no one being there to witness your perfect posture. “I can handle 20%, sir. I’ll get those numbers up for you.” 
“That’s why you’re my favorite branch manager, Ms. L/N. Enjoy your weekend. Make sure you unwind,” he said, exchanging goodbyes with you, before he hung up. 
You were definitely going to do a bit of unwinding, that was for damn sure.
As you collected both your personal and work items, putting them into your sleek briefcase, your branch’s intern knocked on the thick glass door of your office, allowing you to see his perfectly styled, ink black hair through the section of the door that wasn’t completely opaque. 
“Come in, Jongho.” 
Once the permission was granted, Jongho entered your space to give you a small wave and a gentle, charming smile, resting his own briefcase against his thigh. “Just thought I would come and check on you, Ms. L/N. It’s already half past 8, you know, and you deserve your weekends more than anybody in this building.” 
“Oh, please, it’s off-hours, call me Y/N,” you sighed, wishing you could swap the roles of your position in power, wanting to be the one who was told what to do next. “But, thank you…that means a lot. I always try to cram in as much R&R into my weekends as humanly possible.” 
“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he corrected himself, holding the door open for you, his inviting aura and cologne relaxing your rigid demeanor just a tad. “Shall we go?” 
Once inside the sanctity of the elevator, the both of you watched as the bright red numbers on the digital screen slowly counted down.
When you got down to the twenieth floor, you were suddenly reminded of your daunting task, murmuring, “20%…and next month he’ll want 30…that bastard…”
Jongho acknowledged your passive mumbles about the ridiculous increase in sales you had to somehow pull out of your ass, hoping to ease your mind with his straightforward statement, “Hey, no number talk in the elevator, Y/N. That stays in the office.” His gaze softened. “You know better.” 
You quieted down, hoping Jongho couldn’t tell how wet you suddenly were, offering him a gentle chuckle. “Right, no more numbers.”  
Jongho tilted his head to the side, his gelled, parted hair falling into his eyes a bit. “Tell me, what do you do to unwind, Y/N?” 
Your fingers squeezed around the handle of your briefcase. You couldn’t possibly tell him that you enjoyed getting tied up, punished till you were drunk on pleasure, and fucked by masked men and women until you reached your own personal nirvana, now, could you?
 “I like to do lots of things,” you began, turning your head to look at him, realizing he was already looking at you, his gaze intense, but grounding. “Anything that doesn’t make me feel like a corporate drone anymore.” 
Jongho nodded knowingly. “It’s important to let go from time to time. To relinquish that power you hold.” 
You nodded at his words, unconsciously licking at your lips, having to break eye contact with Jongho first, your attention going to the adorably small teddy bear keychain he had on the handle of his briefcase, smiling at it. “What do you do for fun, Jongho?” 
The corners of his lips curled into a smile that you weren’t looking at, his eyes returning to the rapidly lowering numbers on the wall, gently cracking his knuckles to fill the brief silence. “These days, I like to do a bit of roleplaying.” 
“Like…DND?” you asked, swallowing dryly, the ding of the sliding elevator door about to draw you towards it. 
“Something like that,” Jongho replied, his smile now akin more to a smirk, following you out of the elevator into the lobby. 
࿏࿏࿏
“Good to see you back, Miss Kitty,” A man with deep-set eyes, plump lips, and short, choppy hair greeted you at the playroom’s lobby, the rest of his features obscured due to the bunny mask he was wearing. He leaned forward against the sleek receptionist desk, resting his chin on his palm as he pulled out a cutely decorated day planner, his tight butler get-up creasing to accommodate his new position. “Who would you like to visit today?” 
“The Bear,” you replied instantly, shifting your weight from foot to foot, your own equally tight office ensemble making you feel constricted in the best way. “Is he free right now?”  
The handsome bunny butler opened the planner and used a pen with a small plastic bunny at the tip to write in a time and date, drawing a few hearts around the words.  “He’s always free for you, Miss Kitty,” he replied smoothly, before walking over to the door with a key and unlocking it for you. He placed another key, this one with the image of a cartoon bear on it into your hand, giving you a suggestive, though cordial smile. “Enjoy your stay.” 
Once past the lobby, you were faced by many other rooms and doors, each one presenting you with a cute cartoon caricature of various animals. You immediately walked towards the one that displayed the same bear as the one in your sweaty hand.
Upon unlocking the door, you were met by a familiar setting. Minimalistic bedroom furniture decorated with lace doilies and soft, plush teddy tears filled the inviting space, the only thing keeping it from completely embodying someone’s sweet grandma’s bedroom were the egregious amount of sex toys, paddles, and whips that lined the wall, small plastic teddy bears decorating the handles of some of the items to further complete the cutesy aesthetic.
The only bear that interested you, however, was the one sitting on the edge of the large mattress in a simple black suit that looked a bit too familiar, his large thighs threatening to rip through his perfectly tailored pants, his sleeves rolled up past his thick forearms, his pretty raven hair falling past the sleek plastic of his mask that was complete with teddy bear ears.  “It’s such a joy to have you back in my playroom. Now, what are you in the mood for today, kitty cat?” he asked you in a low, calculated tone, licking over the top row of his teeth. 
You felt a shiver go up your spine, taking slow steps until you stood in front of him, licking your lips at the sight of his hands settling on his thighs. “To be paddled and fucked raw, sir.” 
Jongho nodded his head knowingly, reaching up to stroke the side of your hip. “Mmm…my kitten’s had a rough day, I see. I’ll be sure to take good care of you tonight.” 
“Thank you, sir.” 
“The pleasure is all mine.” He stood up, cracking his knuckles out of habit, opening and closing his fists to prepare for what he was about to inflict on you. “If at any time, you want this to stop, you’ll use your voice and tell me to, correct?”
 “Yes, sir.”
“Good, good.” Jongho slowly walked over to the wall, his loafers clacking against the wood floor, picking out a paddle and a few other items amongst the large selection. He twirled the paddle around in his hands, gazing back at you through his mask, piercing you with his dark eyes. He kept his sight on you as he made his way back to the bed, spreading his thighs open when he sat down. “Now, you know the drill, don’t you, kitty?” 
You nodded, quickly positioning yourself across his lap, feeling delightfully petite and usable now that you were relinquishing yourself to your dom. 
“That’s right, sweetheart, feels so nice being on my lap like this, hm? Your pussy’s dripping for me just from the thought of getting paddled red, isn’t it?” Jongho spoke, his voice coming out slow, draping over you like honey, rubbing the side of your upper thigh in gentle circles, watching the way you squeezed them together. 
“Yes, sir,” you answered breathily, squirming around once his hands were on your ass and squeezing it roughly through your thin skirt. 
“Did you bring a change of clothes, pet?” 
“Yes, s–”
Rip. 
Jongho had torn through your designer skirt up the middle with one swift tug, sighing at the sight of your ass squeezing through the torn material, running the edge of the paddle over the exposed skin. “How many, kitten? How many till your ass is raw and red for me?” 
You closed your eyes for a moment, your cunt pulsing steadily, knowing what you needed for your own personal satisfaction. “Twenty…” 
Jongho’s eyes widened slightly behind his mask, running the broad side of the paddle down your ass, using his other hand to tear open sections of your tights. “Twenty it is, pet.” He then wrapped your hair around his hand to create a makeshift ponytail, pulling it back to watch the way you arched your back for him, your ass raising higher up in the air for his own personal satisfaction. “Time to count.” 
Twenty paddles is what you asked for and twenty paddles is what you received, each and every one sending a supreme jolt of pleasure through your body, your fingers squeezing into Jongho’s thick thighs, drool leaving your moaning mouth the second he got to double digits. He rubbed the paddle over your bruising ass in between spanks, rubbing the wetness around your partially clothed cunt from in between your trembling thighs, his cock hard and pressing into your abdomen. “Your pretty pussy deserves to get paddled too, doesn’t it?” he asked you in your ear, squeezing your clit between two fingers, suddenly tearing your panties open, giving him direct access to your dripping cunt, finishing his power move with a direct slap to your slit, making you gasp. 
“Six…teen…Please, sir, give it to me,” you requested, looking up at him with shiny eyes through your cat themed mask. 
Smack. Rub. Smack. Rub. Smack. Jongho turned your cunt into a puffy, leaking mess with ease, giving you one last, incredibly hard smack on the ass with his paddle, before he reached over for the bubblegum pink toy that was sitting on the bed. “Such a good kitty, taking everything I give you. You need something inside you now, yeah? Something to fill up your tight little cunt?” 
A few beads of sweat dripped down your temple past your flushed cheeks. “Twenty…God, yes, please, sir.” 
Jongho smiled to himself, suddenly lifting you up and maneuvering your body like you were a simple doll, positioning you on the bed so that your lower half hung in the air along with your gushing cunt, your ankles near your head. He turned the toy on, letting it vibrate inside his calloused hands, too busy sending a few strings of spit directly onto your heat. “Take it nice and deep for me, kitty,” he directed, holding you steady for him, the toy slipping directly into you. 
You moaned in response, grasping tightly at the sheets, unable to do anything except take the vibrator as deep as it would go, the ribbed edges of it pleasuring your tight inner walls. “Fuck, gonna cum for you, sir…”
“Not until I tell you to,” Jongho reminded you, relentlessly dragging the toy in and out of you, occasionally taking a break in between thrusts to watch the way your cunt contracted around nothing, taking the opportunity to send a wad of spit inside your hole, plugging you back up with the toy each and every time. 
It was when Jongho left the toy fully submerged inside your cunt with the vibration set on max that you were actually going to lose your mind, your fingers digging painfully into your own thighs. “Please, can I cum, sir? I’ve been so good, so good for you,” you babbled, tears pricking at your eyes. 
“Yes, sweetheart, you’ve been an absolute doll for me. Now go on and squirt, kitty. Give me your milk.” Jongho removed the toy completely and replaced it with his hot tongue, fucking your hole and rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles until you screamed, your hot arousal spraying onto his face and wetting his hair, some of it dripping down his mask. 
“Thank you, sir, thank you so much,” you sighed out, completely melting against the bed, blinking hazily up at him. 
“Anytime, doll,” he replied softly, readjusting his mask, a familiar smile gracing his glistening lips. 
Once you recovered, you got up onto your knees, pawing at Jongho’s pulsing cock through his work pants. “You still haven’t fucked me raw, yet, sir…” 
“And I clearly haven’t done my job,” he began in a low voice, straddling your lap, positioning your wrists above your head, a soft click resounding in both of your ears, having handcuffed you to the bed. “If I had, you would have no memory of anything…” He bent down towards you, his lips ghosting along the skin of your neck, the heavy metallic sound of his belt being popped open filling the silent air next. “…except for me, and pleasure I give you. Isn’t that right, kitty?” 
“That’s right, sir,” you purred, spreading your thighs open further for him, encouraging him to grasp and grope at them once he took his aching cock out, letting it sit heavily on your abdomen. 
“But does your pretty red cunt remember the shape of my cock, kitten? After all these times I’ve fucked you completely raw and filled you with my load, it’s surely had to, right?” he asked you softly, as though he hadn’t said such a dirty thing to you, spreading you open with two fingers, pushing the head of his cock into your willing hole inch by inch, eventually filling you up to the brim. 
You pulled your wrists against your constraints, moaning wantonly, unable to do anything about your current situation except take what you were given, your cunt routinely getting stuffed with Jongho’s thick cock until you were babbling incoherently. “Sir…! So good, your cock, it’s so good!”
“I know it is, kitty,” he nodded, strands of his wet hair occasionally brushing over your face, pulling his hips back and expertly slamming them back into you, forcing a fresh wave of slick out of you, which formed a rim around the base of his throbbing length. “You’re so tight around my cock, so ready to take my cum inside you…” 
“Please, please, please…” you whined, tugging and tugging at your restraints, your body pulsing with indescribable pleasure the longer Jongho pumped himself into you like a well-oiled machine, not even realizing when your mask began to fall off your sweaty, flushed face. 
Jongho was in the same state as you, overwhelmed with pleasure, his own mask slipping down the slope of his nose, the tie around his head loosening with each deliberate, though sloppy thrust, your slick, joined bodies melding into one over and over. “Cumming, kitten, cumming inside your pretty cunt,” he groaned out, holding your hips with a cement grip, looking deep into your eyes. 
And just like that, you both fell apart completely, your overflowing arousal mixing harmoniously with the seemingly endless cumshots Jongho pumped into your clenching cunt, your masks having fallen off long ago. You simply gazed at each other in pure awe, sweat dripping along your flush bodies, the soft click sound of handcuffs being unlocked joining the background noise of pants, moans, and the steady stream of mattress springs squeaking underneath the moving bed.
࿏࿏࿏
The elevator took its time lowering you and your intern down to the bottom floor of your shared work space at the end of another tiring performance, regrettably filling a role you wish you could be at the receiving end of instead. The numbers on the small digital screen grew more and more irrevelant the longer you and Jongho shared seemingly polite smiles with one another. 
Jongho tilted his head to the side, his hair falling in his face, his eyes containing a sparkle that you were fully aware of. “Are you going to relax again this weekend, Y/N?” 
“Mm, yes I definitely need it after my last meeting with my boss,” you sighed out, leaning in his direction, your shoulders touching. “They’re asking for a bigger increase in sales this time…30%, they say.” 
“Ahh, ahh,” Jongho tutted softly, shaking his head, the palm of his hand pressing against the small of your back, his dark eyes gleaming. “No numbers, Y/N.” 
“No numbers,” you repeated gently, a delightful shiver going up your spine, the ding of the elevator reminding you of where you were currently, and where you would be going very soon. Your eyes began to gleam as well.  “Except when I count for you. Right, sir?”
Jongho jingled his little teddy bear key chain around in his hand, his lips curling upwards. “Precisely, kitty cat.”
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457 notes · View notes
ferrarrigirl · 3 months
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i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶
Full House
Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader
Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.
A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx
You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”
You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”
Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.
Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”
“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.
“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”
“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.
“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”
“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.
“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”
“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.
“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.
“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Are you okay babe?”
“Yea-“
“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.
“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”
“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”
Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.
“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.
“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”
You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”
He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.
“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.
He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”
“Not Mom, its Dad.”
Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.
“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”
“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.
“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”
A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”
‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”
He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”
That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.
“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”
“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.
“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”
“I see, what did Ava say?”
“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”
Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.
“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face
“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”
“It’s just not fair Dad.”
“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”
She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”
“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”
“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”
“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”
“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.
“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”
“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.
“Wait, so did you beat Los?”
“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”
“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”
He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”
“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”
“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.
“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.
“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.
“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”
“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”
Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.
596 notes · View notes
linnienin · 10 months
Text
⁓⁕🍷 🌸 V e n u s ⁕ a n d ⁕ h o w ⁕ y o u ⁕ c h i l l 🌸 🍷⁕⁓
Disclaimer: Take what resonates. I'm not a professional astrologer, i just am an avid researcher and i use my personal experience when writing my posts (Also, pls, don't copy my work, i spend lot of time on it, thanks)
Ahhh Venus, the planet of love. We use it to talk about our relationships and misadventures in our love life. But it also is the planet of feminine energy, enjoyment, relaxation and indulgence. How do you chill using your Venusian energy? Let's find out looking at your Venus's sign and degree
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
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⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
⁕ Aries / 1-13-25 degrees : *aggresively flying on the couch* play TV, *loud setting on*, watch the tv for 1 minute, gets bored, *roll off the couch*, goes to the kitchen, sees people, start a little chase (Jason Momoa meme entered the caption) 👀👐. After annoying people for a bit, do a little workout, tries to lift a 700 kg cause they *confident*, fail, they still confident, opt for the 0.5 kg, now they happy 😊💪. Dance lover. Enjoy drinking energy drinks. Not really a sipp-er, more of a chugg-er lmao. Carbs are their heaven, they cannot have enough (cause they move a lot, they need the energyy). When laying on the sofa need to put their head on someone else's shoulder or legs or head to feel safe and receive the physical contact they really crave. Enjoy taking short cold showers. Like playing chess (they're good at strategizing and know when to attack and they're bold about it). Cut their hair as a relaxing activity (until they have no hair left to cut lol), likes dyeing them too, preferabily with bolder colours.
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
⁕ Taurus / 2-14-26 degrees: The yawn-er. They're MASTER at chilling. They chill doing everything, i'm not kidding, are they at home, are they at work? They be chilling allll the time. Lovers of the sofa, bed, and others soft big surfaces. Chill by taking their time doing everything, they be starting cooking at 9 a.m. to serve a meal at 1 p.m. ✨Sloth with grace✨. Quality over quantity. Enjoy passing time doing nothing...literally. They be like fixating on a thing and looking at it for an hour straight. Mad control of their focus. Meditating without realizing It. Probably sip chamomile. They like to think time doesn't exist, they got all the time in the world (until they wake up one day, look into the mirror and realize they forgot to shave their mustache for all this time). Hella romantic, enjoy picking up flowers, endless walks in nature, veery slowly, they be stopping every 2x3 to admire a little bug passing by.
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
⁕ Gemini / 3-15-27 degrees: Tea time with their personalities. Lmao, no but they literally chill by checking in with their thoughts and their ideas. Loves listening to podcasts and documentaries. Multitasking hobbies. Yup, i have no clue how they even relax by doing 1738283 things at a time but it's a way to shut down their thoughts for a while. Yeah, i know, i just told you they chill by thinking too, but sometimes it becomes too much and they have to switch the brain off. Relax by painting their nails. Get experimental with makeup. Write fanfics but leave them unfinished 👀. Admire their pretty handwriting. Enjoy reading and talking about gossip a looot, too much hehe. Like to play games that require a broad knowledge on everything (ex Trivia). Thinking about doing stuff but actually not doing it lmfao, they just love to think about soo many ideas, that is a way to relax, but then they don't even write them down and poof, they're gone and they can't remember them and they get mad about it :(
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
⁕ Cancer / 4-16-28 degrees : Cuddling with their pillow 24/7 (cause deep down they feel alone... 🥺). Play animal crossing. Imagine their future family, even tho they're actually stuck in the past lol. Most likely to binge watch series for a whole day and get emotional about it because they get too attached to the characters. If they could they'd never leave the house...ever lmao, total homebodies. Relaxing by spending time alone or with very closed ones, friends/family. Probably likes to collect plushies, funko pops, or mini cute figures of their favourite fictional characters ✨. Cooking and baking can be a relaxing activity to them, especially if they do it for their family or their guests. Have 'grandma's hobbies'... knitting/crocheting for example lol. Enjoy so much making photo albums, and even more looking at them from time to time. Love going to the sea, early mornings walking barefoot on the sand and admiring the immense ocean and the sun rising, they're fans of little details and very romantic/sweet scenarios. They enjoy being helpful to others, so they'll probably ask people if they can do something for them (especially if they see people struggling doing something, they'll gladly volounteer to offer their help).
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
⁕ Leo / 5-17-29 degrees: Stars wannabe. Intensely crying in front of the mirror portraying a desperate girl that has been cheated on, then recompose themselves and admire how good they just were pffft. Put on glasses even at home to feel extra, hit the door while walking cause they can't see a thing, get on the floor purposely, decides to play the blind character, gets up, * sudden dramatic enhancement of the other senses*. Dancing with the starssss. No seriosuly, they should apply, but as the professional dancer cause they so good! (and well they're not stars.... yet 👀). Like the other 2 fire venuses they enjoy moving their body so workouts are very appreciated, but leos especially loove hiit workouts, go build that cooore. Lovers of loong passionate and romantic dramas, they wanna feel all the emotions and they stay loyal to a specific series so they wish it could go on forevahh (hello..."Beautiful" lmao). ✨ Randomly transform their home in a runway show. Start walking like a model to feel themselves ✨ List all the things they can do and skills they acquired to feel good about themselves, then they list all the things they wanna work towards to use that self esteem boost to enhance their motivation and work towards their future goals.
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
⁕ Virgo / 6-18 degrees : Killing the chilling. No seriosuly, these people seem like they can't 100% chill properly, and some of them may take 'something' to feel completely detached and lost from reality for a bit... 👀 They chill by making plans. Always trying to find things to do and learn to always get better. Working on themselves is their favourite project. Scanning the room in bed instead of chilling, seeing if there's something they need to adjust or clean. Overthinking the heck out of their lives...wait weren't you supposed to chill? Nevermind 🙈. Roasting others...in their minds hehe, they won't let others see how much they enjoy analizing their mistakes. 'Lemme give you advice on this thing' , others: uhm... ok but chilllll. And you ask Virgo venuses whyy they continue to give advices even when people don't listen to them. Well... saying 'I told you' is more satifying than hearing 'i don't care' 😘 (underlying validation issues). Well...i mean, they could chill while crafting, i give you this, it's probably the only time where they get near the definition of chilling...but hey hold on, cause soon enough they gonna find out details about how they're not perfect at what they do so kill the chill again and let the procrastination beginnn (wait... is procrastination's Virgo's way of chilling?)
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⁕ Libra / 7-19 degrees: They wanna experience the finest things in life. They go to that fancy restaurant, get that fancy dress, buy those fancy flowers... they wanna feel cuddled by life and specifically... lifestyle. They need to feel they value by surroundings themselves with valuable things. That's why they chill by going shopping or talking to new people, because where they see value in, they get value from. It's all about feeling good about themselves. Have a sweet tooth (but enjoy eating overall, it's like they enjoy the experience of taste, they're not really picky ultimately). Can splurge on personal care, lots of tools for facials or expensive skincare (cause after eating sugar they need to mantain the perfect skin lol). They work a lot on the mantainance of the self. That's why they have a good eye for fashion and aesthetics, because they have been researching and analizing everything that's out there to understand what's better for them, but they still haven't found out their true style due to their indecisive nature 😂. Plus let's admit it, they like to change often and renew themselves to maintain that 'interesting persona' 👀
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⁕ Scorpio / 8-20 degrees : Drowning their nose in personality tests. Seriously, when these people wanna chill, all they got on their mind is how to understand that mind even more. They're detectives of their own psyche. Lovers of shadow work. Let all those intense questions unfold! Obsessive researchers. They find a topic they like, they delve deep into it until they've found enough to feel satisfied and jump on another theme to obsess themselves over. Probably watching a lot of documentaries on criminals and unresolved cases trying to find the final answer themselves. Masters at playing Cluedo. Read everybodies's minds in every single setting, it makes them relaxed by feeling in control of the room's energies, and yeah... even during lunch between family members lmao. Need plenty of alone time. They're secretly training to become wizards/witches 👀. Probably like to sip pomegranate juice or any other juicy and thick flavoured drink. Sometimes they forget to even eat because of how invested theyre in their researches lol. I know you're already attractive as hell, but y'all take care of your bodyyy
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⁕ Sagittarius / 9-21 degrees : The boy/girl scout. Those people HAVE to move, they can't stay still or they'll start to stress out. They love a good trip somewhere new, visiting places abroad, taking that bus/train and not knowing where it'll take them (they get lost easily lmfao but they don't mind it, it's part of the thrilling experience). Documentaries lovers: can't go out? Let them wander with their minds. Like to change activities often as they get bored quickly. Enjoy trying to eat different types of food from different cultures. They like to go shopping a lot, to have little souvenirs of all the places they've been to (can tend to overspend depending on other placements in the chart). The one who find excitement in daring to do what everyone else don't want to do. Can love to pertake in volounteering activities, especially if they require them to sail to another country, they enjoy being helpful to other people in need (if underdeveloped can have hero complex). Probably enjoy playing on the Wii in competitive games, they're always up for a competition, even for the slightest thing, like "who can finish up this bottle of water first?? Ready? Start!" (they can announce little challenges like this veeery randomly and everyone will follow their lead, it's crazy haha)
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⁕ Capricorn / 10-22 degrees : Counting their money. Sorting their bills. Sooo relaxing right, especially when the money in your bank account keep groowingg 👀 (they probably watch cash envelope stuffing videos + budgeting on YT). Relax by doing the same routine every day, they can do it without even thinking, and that to them is relieving. They enjoy the adulting process, so actually...going to work can feel like chilling to them lol, they like to feel a sense of responsibility, it makes them feel motivated to always grow, and having a sense of order and stability, that's what makes them feel relaxed and safe. Constantly reading self-help books. Probably sipping their wine while chilling or an expensive drink or a concentrated drink (blueberry juice peraphs). They like high quality items, so they usually shop designer clothes/accessories, they love those labels lol. They love the sofa, don't ask me why lol, most people love the bed, capricorn venuses love the sofa, periodt (can it be because the space is restricted and Cap being ruled by Saturn, planet of restrictions... well, could be).
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⁕ Aquarius / 11-23 degrees : The videogamer. Have way too many hobbies that have nothing in common. Wanna splurge on those headphones too? You already have the bunny ears ones, the cat ears ones, the led ones, guyzzz you have a whole collection of them lmao. Are probably into reading about the unknown mysteries of the universe. Conspiracy theories lovers (they just love when they can confuse others people's minds with all their absurdities). The ones who find excitement in daring to do what everyone else don't want to do. Collectors of technology stuff, yup, they still have the gameboyy 🥺. Unpredictable af but they enjoy being this way so people can always question them and think of them as interesting. Introverted people that need to recharge by being alone. Probably Webtoons and manga lovers. Enjoy pertaking in protest marches, feeling part of the crowd (sense of belonging) and feeling they can contribute to a greater cause. They feel the need to do something crazy once in a while, so if you see them bunjee jumping randomly, or trying others 'dangerous' activities don't be surprised (pls, be careful, and don't try anything illegal....understood?👀...pfft, i already know you're gonna roll your eyes, and think, here we go, another sheep that is trying to tell me what to do lol)
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⁕ Pisces / 12-24 degrees : Do you think thinking about "what ifs" is relaxing?? Y'allll pleaseee, i know the feeling is good when you imagine your perfect reality...but...you literally take it as a hobby and do it way too much...to your own detriment 😭. They looove watching romance movies and dramas, it's their bread and butter (to give food to those daydreams right?🙃). Play music ALL day and get lost in their world, and then suddenly it's time to go to bed and they realize they lost another day to daydreaming, now they got to the nightdreaming phase of the day lol 😂😭. Loves taking baths, the contact with water feels truly healing to them, they could stay in the water 24/7. Can be extremely good at painting or drawing, or singing (and other artistic activities too), and relax by doing these activities. Just asking, but are y'all ok with the low blood pressure?😢(also curious, do you tend to have low blood pressure?). Can relax but lose themselves watching the phone,especially social medias. Until they realize they're literally watching and living an illusion, they think they live by watching everyone else's lives and connect with them through the screen, but they're not living their own life by going out there, and experiencing the world as main characters, not just extras of their own lives.
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Congrats! You've reached the end! ✨
Hope you enjoyed this post, always rememer that we are not just one placement, so if you didn't resonate, that's ok, i'd love to know your feedback in both cases (if you did or did not resonate), it is always very appreciated 🥰
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Wish you a wonderful day! 🍷 Yours, Linnie 🌸
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moonscriptsx · 7 months
Text
Daylight || 02 (M)
PART 1
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I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
SYNOPSIS:  Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.
PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]
GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]
WORDS: 12.7k.
WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.
A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰
PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles
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The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.
Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.
“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.
A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.
“Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.
“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”
“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”
Sleeping in…?
Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.
10:45 am.
“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.
“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”
“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”
But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.
“Sir I’m —“
“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”
Your eyebrows furrow at that.
“No,” you reply, confused.
“So why the formalities then?”
“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”
“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”
Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.
“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.
“It wasn’t enough for me.”
Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.
There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.
“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”
A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.
“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”
A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.
“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“
“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”
“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.
“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”
You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.
“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”
“Excuse me — hey!”
There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.
“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”
“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.
“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”
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It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.
“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”
“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”
“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”
You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.
“My asshole boss.”
Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.
“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”
It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.
“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.
“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”
Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.
Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.
“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”
Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.
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“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”
The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.
Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.
Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.
05:54 PM.
Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.
Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.
Ms. (Y/N),
Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.
P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.
Choi Seungcheol – Personal Representative of Choi Industries
Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.
Much regards, Jeon (Y/N).
“KIM MINGYU!”
You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.
“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.
“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”
“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”
“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”
Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”
“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”
“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.
“It’s not that big of a deal -”
“What’s going on?”
You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.
“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”
Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.
“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”
“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”
Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.
“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”
Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.
“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”
You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.
“What did you do?”
He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.
Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.
“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.
Wonwoo’s jaw sets.
“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.
“Jeon (Y/N).”
A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.
There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.
“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”
A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.
You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.
“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.
“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”
“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”
Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.
“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”
His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.
“Now.”
Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.
“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”
Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.
“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”
“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.
“Mr. Jeon –”
“Wonwoo,” he corrects.
The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.
“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.
Wonwoo’s frown deepens.
“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”
Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.
“I – What..?”
Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.
You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.
“Answer me, (Y/N).”
Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.
“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”
Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.
“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Mr. Jeon –”
“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”
A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”
“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.
“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”
Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.
“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”
“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”
“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”
Anger flashes in his eyes.
“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.
“Wonu.”
Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.
“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.
“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”
There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.
A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.
You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.
“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.
“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.
There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.
His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.
“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”
You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.
“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.
“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”
You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.
“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”
Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.
“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.
The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.
“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”
Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.
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“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”
Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.
“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.
Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.
“Well, yes, but —“
“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”
“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”
“WHAT?!”
The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”
“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”
“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”
Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.
“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”
You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.
“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“
“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”
“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”
“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”
“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”
“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”
“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”
“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”
You sigh, knowing he’s right.
“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”
Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”
“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”
“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”
Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.
“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”
Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.
“Alright, now who’s hungry?”
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You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.
Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.
You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.
You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.
“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.
“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”
“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”
There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.
“Gyu, please. Just tell him I’m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”
You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.
But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.
A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.
With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.
Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.
You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.
“How – how did you get my address?”
Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.
“You’re avoiding me.”
His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.
“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”
Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.
“You and I both know that that is a lie.”
Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.
“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.
“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”
There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.
“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”
Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”
The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.
“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”
Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.
“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”
A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.
“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”
“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”
Your gaze softens at his words.
You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.
With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.
“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”
A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.
Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.
Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.
Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.
“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”
You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.
A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.
A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.
“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”
There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.
Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.
You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.
“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.
“Down the hall to the right.”
It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.
“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”
Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.
“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.
“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”
You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.
“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”
Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.
“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”
A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.
“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”
Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.
“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”
You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.
A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.
“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”
Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.
“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”
Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”
The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.
Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.
He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.
Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.
“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”
Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”
A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.
“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.
Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.
“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”
A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.
Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.
“(Y/N)...”
Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.
Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.
“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”
The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.
“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”
A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.
“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”
A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.
“I’m the only one who deserves it.”
Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.
“Wonwoo – oh, fuck – !”
He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.
“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”
He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.
“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”
His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.
“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”
You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.
“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”
The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.
“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.
“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.
“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.
“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”
Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.
“Damn right, you’re mine.”
Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.
Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.
“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”
The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.
“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.
You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.
His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.
Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.
“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.
“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”
Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.
“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”
Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”
“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”
Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Even if I cost you your job?”
You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.
“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”
Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.
“That can be arranged.”
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[15 new messages]
From: Soonyoung Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon… ... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is… … so you’re welcome ;)
From: Joshua Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;
From: Gyu Wonwoo is missing He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back (Y/N)???? Hello???? This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!?? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!
To: Gyu She’s busy
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From: Gyu I – OH??? MY GOD???????? IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!! Also – ew Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again
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Epilogue
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“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”
Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.
“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”
Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.
“I knew I could count on you.”
The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.
“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”
Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.
“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”
“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”
Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”
His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.
“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”
Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.
“Nothing I’m not already used to.”
It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.
In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.
Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.
You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.
“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”
Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.
“Noted.”
Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.
“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”
You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.
You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.
“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.
“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.
He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.
Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.
“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”
Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.
An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.
“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.
“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”
You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.
“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.
“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.
“I love you,” he corrects.
Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.
“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.
“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.
“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.
“But I only want to be around you.”
Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.
“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”
Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.
“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”
You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.
“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.
With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.
“I love you too, Wonwoo.”
909 notes · View notes
sugrhigh · 25 days
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR 4 - ( c.s )
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part three
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- cursing, slightly suggestive MEOW
neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader
a/n: PART FOUR! i promise u guys are not ready for what’s coming next 🫨 thank u to everyone who’s been reading along i love u all so very much!! my inbox is always open and i hope ur having a wonderful day (also doesn’t that first pic look so much like chris i screamed)
@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @cupidsword @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs
“wow, someone looks extra hot tonight.” cassidy comments as she walks into your room, which is laughable coming from her.
she’s an angel, literally glowing in her multi-colored halter. you swear you shop at the same places, and yet she somehow always finds the gems.
“god, says you.” you joke, unable to keep a straight face as you stand up from your desk.
but you’re all done up too, dressed in a red tube top and some black jeans that flare out a little, hugging your hips just right. and yeah, you’re a bit smug knowing that you’re going to chris’s party looking extra great, but you embrace the post-pregame confidence.
“are you sure you want to go? we really don’t have to.” cass asks as you pass by her into the upstairs hallway.
“i mean, why not? i can never turn down free alcohol.” you shrug, and it’s part of the truth.
paying for yourself at the bar is never as fun, and the chances of somebody buying your drinks is usually slim. plus it’s on shithead’s tab tonight, which makes it that much sweeter.
“i totally agree. i just…” her smile falters a little, and she sighs, “i just don’t want you to get hurt or anything.”
it makes you pause, hearing her say that. you’d ended up talking to both of your roommates after chris came knocking on your bedroom door, and they’d been rightfully wary of his excuse.
but her words kind of confirm your worries; that chris is someone to be feared, someone to keep at a distance. like you won’t be able to resist the charm.
like you’ll fall.
“he can’t hurt me if i don’t let him.” you reply, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself.
“okay, i won’t push it. i know you’re tough, but i can’t help but check in.” cass nods at you before you head down the stairs.
“i appreciate it, but i’m good, so let’s go get bombed.” you’re grinning again, still buzzing from the two drinks you’d finished while doing your makeup.
ramona is already downstairs, bopping along to the beat of the music she has playing on the tv. she’s midway through a shot of tequila as you round the corner to the kitchen, swallowing so she can bite down on a slice of lime with her free hand.
you and cassidy both chuckle at the grimace that passes over her face.
“you ready party animal?” cass teases.
“always.” she replies once she’s calm, placing the tiny glass into the sink before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of alcohol.
each of you shove your old beat up shoes onto your feet, and mona turns off the television seconds after. you can still feel the bass vibrating, but you know it’s coming from the house beside you, which makes your heart jump into your throat.
you walk out the door, one behind the other like a row of ducks as you trample through the thin layer of snow from a few days prior.
tonight, you can tell chris has his own mix on, because you recognize the yeat song that’s currently playing. you’ve always liked his taste more than the others.
you’ll never admit that to him, though.
it’s way louder now that you’re up close, and you can literally feel the party raging. ramona leads the pack, stepping inside and swinging the door open for the rest of you.
the darkness swallows you once you step inside, but your eyes adjust quickly. you recognize some people as you shift through the crowd, regulars who are usually here and a couple of guys on the team.
you try not to look for chris, instead choosing to focus on the back of ramona’s head while you guys shuffle to the kitchen for drinks. there’s a few people chatting as you step through the archway, one of them being ben. his sandy blonde hair is pushed away from his face, and he smiles at your arrival.
“hey there neighbors!” he greets each of you guys with a side hug, clearly already drunk even though it’s only eleven.
you just thank god he set his cup down, because you know he would have spilled it all over.
“benjamin, always a pleasure.” cassidy laughs at his slightly sloppy demeanor.
“chris is gonna be really happy.” ben shoots a smirk your direction, and you roll your eyes, opting to move to the bottles of cheap vodka on the counter.
“i really don’t care.” you snark, pouring a hefty bit of alcohol into your cup before setting the handle back down.
“feisty tonight, woah!” he holds his hands up in surrender.
your friends follow close behind, making their own drinks and pouring them equally as strong.
“where’s your girl, benny? haven’t seen her around in a minute.” ramona asks with a small smile, clearly trying to change the subject.
“she’s out at the bar. girls night or something.” ben shrugs as you add some sprite to your drink and take a sip.
it’s extremely bitter even with the mixer, but you choke it down and deal with the burn. you’re still not tipsy enough, so you’re playing catch-up to try and reach the level you want to be at.
mona nods at this as she slides back up next to you, cassidy joining moments later when she’s done making her drink.
“well, tell her to come around soon, i miss her.” she requests.
“i miss her too, i’ll pass the message along.” ben points a finger at her like he’s locking in a promise, loopy grin morphing his features.
“alright, we’re going to dance, but i’m sure we’ll see you later.” cass waves her free hand goodbye before you all make your way back into the masses, shoving your way into the living room.
it’s pretty packed tonight, as usual, and a sheen layer of sweat already covers your skin. you run a hand through your hair while cassidy meshes into the crowd, making enough room for you guys to move around.
bodies bump against yours as you all dance to the music together, sipping your drinks and laughing at each other’s silly moves. you swear you’ve seen connor now too, and yet you still haven’t spotted chris.
you suppose this is a good thing, because the sensation of being inebriated is only just beginning to wash over your body, and you don’t want to deal with him sober.
so you dance, and drink, and dance and drink some more, letting the hazy lights illuminate you as you bop around with your friends.
you’re knocking back the last of your fifth beverage of the night when you feel someone come up behind you, hand snaking to hold your waist gently. your first assumption is chris, and your heart leaps into your throat, but you’re wrong.
it’s a guy you don’t recognize. his black tapered hair is a mess on his head as he gazes at you hungrily.
“dance with me?” he asks over the music.
cassidy and ramona are seconds away from stepping in, but you shake your head at them to indicate you’re fine. for once, you don’t really mind being hit on, especially because he’s kind of cute and you’re definitely drunk.
it’s not like it means anything anyways.
so you back up slightly, his front flush against your spine as you move your hips, rolling them into his own.
your friends grin devilishly as the two of you sway together, so close it almost feels like you’re one person. his hand presses flat against your stomach, holding you so he can feel the friction of your ass grinding against him.
you swear it’s only been a second before the crowd parts slightly, revealing a pissed-off looking chris as he barrels his way past the other people in the living room. his eyes are ablaze, and he yanks you away from the mystery man the second he’s close enough.
“get lost, jamie.” he snaps at the boy you were with, whose eyes are wide in fear now.
he must be an underclassman then, because he scurries away instantly, too scared to stand his ground against the captain of the team and the host of the party.
“what the fuck, chris? i was having fun.” you cross your arms over your chest, slurring ever so slightly as you glare at him.
he doesn’t respond to this; instead, his chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, and his dark gaze trails up and down your body. he grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the staircase without a reply.
your friends watch in awe as he drags you away, though neither of them bother to interfere. they’re swallowed by the swarm moments later, and your stomach flips at the fact that they’re gone.
it’s just you and him now.
the foyer blurs by as you reach the stairs, and you nearly stumble trying to keep up with his pace. you’ve only just made it to the privacy of the upstairs hall when chris drops your arm, whirling around to face you.
“what is wrong with you?”
your mouth falls open slightly at his tone, at how animalistic he looks standing before you, blocking you against the wall. his white shirt is unbuttoned slightly, and you can smell that fucking dior on him.
“what the hell does that mean?” you retaliate, already flushed in anger.
“i didn’t even know you could dance like that, let alone with my teammate.” chris snarls.
“everyone can dance, and i had no idea he was on the team. it’s not like you were talking to me anyways.” you stand your ground, meeting his judgmental gaze head on.
“did you want me to?”
“i mean, you’re the one who invited me to this stupid party, so i kind of expected to at least see you.” you tell him truthfully, and you know it’s the alcohol talking now.
“one second you hate me and the next you’re angry i’m not giving you attention. i can’t figure you out, and it drives me fucking crazy.” he continues to stare down at you in frustration, glancing between your eyes and your lips.
you hate how fast your heart is slamming against your ribcage. every time he’s this close to you it’s like the air is sucked out of the room. you can’t even breathe.
“why did you really pull me away, chris?” you ask quietly.
you already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it out loud for once.
“because you should only be moving that pretty ass of yours against me.” his voice is low, and he takes a step forward.
you cancel out his movement, completely backed up against the wall now. he can’t help but let his eyes roam down to your chest, to your exposed cleavage.
you’ve been taunting him all night, though you weren’t even aware. chris has just been watching you in your element, staying to himself and letting you do your thing with your friends for a bit.
after his last conversation with you he felt like maybe he should back off, but then seeing you with somebody else was even worse. it shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t be so fucking obsessed so soon.
but you’re looking at him with those wide eyes, soft lips parted, and there’s no way to resist. one hand travels to the back of your neck and the other grabs at your waist, pulling you into his own hips as he smashes his mouth to yours.
it’s somehow even more passionate than the first time, messy and rough, how you both like it most. chris bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away a minute later, kissing your cheek and jaw, then down your neck.
his cold fingers make their way underneath the hem of your shirt as you feel his teeth close down on the sensitive skin. a strangled moan escapes your mouth before you can bite it back.
“i like that sound a lot, princess.” he says into your ear before his lips focus on that hollow sweet spot you love so much.
you know he’s going to leave a mark, but it feels so good you don’t care. yet you choke down the whimper you feel crawling up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much you like it.
“c’mon, i know you want to.” he mumbles against your throat, and you can literally feel him smirking.
arrogant bastard. two can play at this game.
you put your hands on his chest so you can drive him backwards into the opposite wall. he’s surprised by you taking the lead, and you press your body flat against his, connecting your mouths roughly once more.
chris’s hands roam to grip your ass, a delicious pressure that you shouldn’t enjoy so much. your fingers nimbly travel to the waist of his jeans, and you feel his body tense under your touch.
you can’t help but grin into his lips as you move your hand lower, underneath the band of his boxers, grazing the warm skin of his hip tantalizingly slow.
you shift your focus to his own neck, sucking harshly and running your tongue over his skin until you finally hear him groan, a noise that you relish. his fingers dig into your flesh harder, and you can feel him grind against your thigh.
but you already got what you wanted, so you break away and take a step backwards. the shock on chris’s face after your abrupt departure is clear, his lips raw and hair tousled.
“and you had the nerve to imply that i’m the one who wanted this.” you smile and shake your head, making a move toward the stairs.
“you’re seriously just going to leave?” he asks in disbelief, which makes you turn.
“what did you think was going to happen, chris?” you smirk, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before swiping your thumb along your bottom lip.
his own mouth slowly turns up as he stares at you with a certain kind of ferocity in his eyes, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his messy hair.
“nothing, i guess. but whatever we didn’t get to will happen eventually, you know.”
“no, it won’t.” you reply, a bit too quickly to be convincing.
“i think it will. who knows, maybe next time you’ll let me use my mouth somewhere else.” chris says lowly, hand ghosting across your hip as he passes by you, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression of self-satisfaction.
then he heads back down the stairs, vanishing around the corner like nothing had even happened.
days ago you were swearing up and down that you’d never kiss him again, that nothing would happen. and now you’re standing alone in his house while the music thumps, knees weak and breathing heavy with a hickey on your neck.
the scariest part of all is that you’re still craving more, even though you don’t want to.
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tigertales9 · 5 months
Text
Hard Reset III
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut
Description: This fic covers the week 4 loss to the Titans.
Time/Place: Sunday, Oct. 1, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio
A/N: This is the third fic in the Hard Reset series. It's also a shameless sex-fest. I promise there will be more actual plot (and sex!) in the next fic.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 10/1/23 (after the week 4 loss to the Titans)
You check your watch as you pace around the kitchen, your mind grasping at what to say to Joe when he gets home. You roll your shoulders to relieve some tension as you think back to the game.
~ ~ ~
The 27-3 loss to the Titans felt like a huge step back after the Monday Night Football win against the Rams. The entire game was a disappointment to put it mildly. Every single phase -- offense, defense, special teams, play calling -- was lackluster as hell. The only positive was Joe's calf injury didn't seem to get re-tweaked, but you never know how it will react from one day to the next. Joe had once again requested you and his parents not greet him if the Bengals lost, so y'all were already in the car heading for the exit when the clock ticked down to 0:00. You beat the team charter flight back by a couple hours, and Joe's parents decided to head home since they knew he wouldn't want company.
~ ~ ~
The sound of the garage door opening pulls you back to the present, your pulse picking up when Joe walks in and locks eyes with you. "Hey," you greet, quickly walking forward to give him a hug. "Hey," he mutters, dropping his bag before wrapping his arms around you. "Sorry you traveled all that way just to see a shitshow," he continues, giving you a look that's half grin/half grimace when you pull back and look up at his face.
"It wasn't a shit …"
"Yes it was," he interrupts, heaving a tired sigh. "Don't sugar-coat it."
"Yes, sir," you mumble. "How do you feel?"
He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Physically, not too bad. Mentally, like total shit."
You swallow hard and give a quick nod, a little disconcerted that he seems to be looking right through you; before you can think of something to say he speaks up again.
"Listen, Sam's gonna pick me up in a few minutes. We're having a team meeting at his house tonight."
"The whole team?" you ask.
"No, just the Captains and a few other guys." He picks his bag up and heads for the stairs before continuing. "We've gotta figure some shit out, make sure we're on the same page then put it to bed." He pauses halfway up the stairs and finally makes good eye contact with you. "The entire season is on the line; somebody has to light a fire under our asses and …"
"You're just the man to do it," you interject, giving him what you hope looks like an encouraging smile.
"Exactly," he states, before disappearing upstairs.
He reappears a few minutes later wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, quickly checking his phone when it chimes with a new text. "Sam's here," he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead before heading for the door. "I may be late getting home. Don't wait up."
Your eyebrows head for your hairline as he breezes out the door. "Love you, too," you grumble under your breath after the door closes behind him. You try not to take his abrupt departure personally, but you're feeling a little sorry for yourself when the door slings open and he walks back in. "Did you forget something?" you ask.
"Yeah," he answers, striding up to you. He leans down and gives you a lingering kiss before pulling back. "Love you," he states. "Love you, too," you answer, giving him a big grin as he hurries back out the door. "Telepathic ass," you chuckle once he's gone. "I swear that man can read my mind."
~ ~ ~
A couple hours later you wake up abruptly and sit straight up in bed, your heart pounding for several seconds until you realize the noise that woke you is just Joe in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He eventually walks into the bedroom giving you a sheepish grin when he sees you. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he mutters, crawling into bed and basically faceplanting into his pillow.
"It's okay," you soothe, turning onto your side to face him; you run your fingernails up and down his bare back, smiling at his muffled groans. "That feels good," he mumbles into his pillow, a shiver running down his spine when you slide your hand into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp.
"Did y'all figure some things out?" you ask, admiring his tall frame which is clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs.
"Mmm-hmm. Mainly that I sucked today and we won't win shit until I get better."
"The whole team sucked today, not just you."
"Thanks for admitting I sucked."
You roll your eyes and give his ample ass a loud smack before rubbing it.
"Don't get me started," he warns.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I know where this is headed, but I don't feel like having sex tonight."
You withdraw your hand and scoot away from him. "Sorry," you whisper. "I just thought … nevermind."
"Listen," he sighs, flopping over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "I don't want pity sex, and there's no way you're turned on after how awful I played today."
You narrow your eyes at the slight slur in his speech. "Have you been drinking?"
"A little."
"Then I won't tear your ass up about projecting until you sober up."
"What do you mean projecting?"
"You know exactly what I mean." You take a deep breath before continuing. "We've had this conversation before."
"Refresh my memory."
"Should probably wait until tomorrow. I'm in no mood to sugar-coat it tonight."
"Fuck sugar-coating," he snorts, "tell me what you're thinking."
"Fine." You push up into a sitting position and look down at him, the hallway light providing just enough illumination to make out his petulant expression. "When you lose a game you get really down on yourself, and you project that feeling onto me. But -- like I've said several times before -- the way I feel about you is not determined by whether or not you win fucking football games, okay? If you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"I just …"
"I'm not finished," you interrupt. "I'm starting to think you're the one who doesn't want sex after the team loses, which is fine, but you need to quit blaming it on me." You slide out of bed as you finish your mini tirade. "I'm not sleepy anymore," you state as you head for the door. "I'm gonna go get some work done."
You walk down the hallway to your office, shutting the door behind you before dropping into your desk chair with an annoyed sigh; you click your desk lamp on and run a hand through your hair. "Way to overreact, dumbass," you grumble under your breath, immediately feeling guilty. "You know he always needs extra affirmation after a loss and instead you chewed him out. Better go apologize."
You stand up and head for the door, stopping in your tracks when you hear a soft knock. "Come in," you call, biting your lip as he walks into the room. "I'm sorry," you blurt before he can say anything, quickly closing the distance to wrap your arms around him. "I overreacted."
He returns your hug for several heartbeats before leaning back to lock eyes with you. "You don't need to apologize. I need to stop being an insecure brat every time I lose a damn game."
"You don't really think I lose attraction to you after a loss, right? I used to think you were just teasing, but I seriously can't tell anymore."
He shrugs his broad shoulders, the action causing his forehead curls to bounce. "I'm mostly teasing, but I've been feeling pretty bad about myself lately so I guess I've been fishing for compliments more than usual." He gives you a sheepish smile. "And I was def hoping to have sex tonight. I guess I laid the pity party on a little too thick, though."
"So -- to be clear -- when you said you didn't feel like having pity sex …"
"I really meant I wanted you to seduce me. To show me you still want me even though I played like shit."
"Okay, that's good to know. I mean, that's what I normally do when you get in this mood, but it's starting to feel like I might be boundary stomping."
"You're not boundary stomping." He slides his hands down your back and cups your ass before easily lifting you up, smiling when you wrap your legs around his waist. "If I really didn't want sex I'd let you know, but don't count on that happening anytime soon," he states, punctuating his words with a throaty chuckle that sets off a steady throb of arousal in all the right places.
He walks to your desk chair and drops into it with you straddling his lap, his lips immediately on your neck after he pulls your t-shirt off and drops it on the floor. You lean your head to the side to give him better access, moaning at the feel of his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts, his agile fingers teasing you with barely-there touches before pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples just hard enough to make you gasp his name. "You like that?" he whispers against your ear, his hot breath causing a gush of wetness in your core. "Yeah," you whimper, grinding your crotch against his obvious erection as he continues to tease you.
He eventually drops a hand down and rubs your clit through your panties before slipping his fingers inside to play with your wet folds, his deep voice in your ear sending shock waves of pleasure down your spine as he slides a long finger inside you, adding a second finger when you beg for more. "So wet for me," he growls, making a feral noise deep in his throat when you start riding his fingers, slow at first then faster, your breathless whimpers leveling up to louder moans when he latches his pretty lips onto a nipple, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks on the hardened peak.
"Don't stop!" you urge, biting your lip when he pulls off one nipple and moves to the other, giving it a gentle nip with his teeth before sucking it into his hot mouth. "I'm so close," you whine as he grinds his thumb against your clit while pumping his fingers inside you, a steady stream of whimpers spilling from your lips as your climax hits. You bury your face in his fragrant neck and gasp for breath, feeling lightheaded by the intensity of the orgasm, existing in a state of total bliss for several minutes until your dainty desk chair gives an ominous-sounding creak.
"Uh-oh," you pant, leaning back to lock eyes with him. "I think both of us in this chair is too much."
The chair makes another, even louder creak and Joe raises his eyebrows. "Why do you have such a flimsy-ass desk chair?"
"Because it's cute and comfy. Plus it's perfectly fine when it's just me sitting in it."
"You calling me fat?" he asks playfully, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.
"No, you goober," you giggle, easing yourself off of his lap to settle on your knees on the floor between his manspread thighs. "You're tall and muscular and big," you state. "Deliciously big," you continue, ghosting your fingers over his impressive erection while licking your lips. "Let's lose these," you whisper, pulling his undies off and tossing them to the side.
You take your time enjoying the view before dropping open-mouthed kisses up the long length of his thick thighs, his soft, blonde leg hair tickling your lips as you work your way up to his crotch; he sucks your essence off of his fingers as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, the look on his face making you want to do deliciously naughty things to him.
"You're gorgeous," you whisper, sliding your hands over his abs, smiling when his muscles tighten under your touch. The heat radiating off of his big, hard body makes you more than a little lightheaded, and his scent -- a purely masculine musk -- literally makes your mouth water. You decide to let him know. "You make my mouth water," you groan, continuing to drop kisses near, but not quite on, his hard cock.
"No I don't," he scoffs, color rushing into his cheeks at the compliment.
It always amazes you when he gets shy about his good looks; in his mind he's still a nerdy guy, and he's not quite comfortable with the fact that he grew up to be a total sex god. You give him a sultry grin as you double down.
"You 100 percent make my mouth water. Want me to show you?"
He studies your face for a bit before responding. "Yeah … show me."
"Okay." You take your time gathering the excess saliva on your tongue before opening your mouth, letting the spit drizzle down on his shaft while holding eye contact with him. "So fucking hot," he hisses, his cock twitching as you lean down and flatten your tongue against it, licking base to tip before lapping at the precum on the plump, velvety head. The sensual, uniquely masculine taste has another flood of saliva pouring into your mouth; you lean back and lock eyes with him as you gather the moisture again, this time spitting it in your hand before wrapping your fist around his thick shaft, jacking him with smooth, steady strokes for a minute before dropping your head back down to tease him with your lips and tongue, slowly replacing your hand with your mouth as you take him deep, your gag reflex firing a few times before you hit just the right angle to deep throat him.
He buries his hands in your hair as you pleasure him, the words of praise spilling from his lips interspersed with soft grunts and groans that go straight to your core. Tears roll down your cheeks, and he brushes them away then lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the salty liquid before hissing in pleasure as you lightly scratch your fingernails over his balls.
"Shit, babe, hold up a sec," he grits out. "I don't wanna cum yet." You pull off of his erection with an audible pop, wiping a hand over the spit and precum coating your chin while panting to catch your breath. "Just let me know what you need," you offer, your pulse picking up at the feral look on his face. He loudly sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth, the action and noise so suggestive that you feel your core throbbing in unison with your racing heartbeat.
"I need to taste you," he purrs, his voice husky with desire. "Then I need to fuck you."
The throbbing in your core escalates, and you cup a hand over your soaked panties to try and ease the almost-painful ache; his gaze flicks down to your crotch before returning to your face, the carnal promise in his smile making your pleasure points hum with anticipation.
"How sturdy is your desk?" he asks, eyeing it as if sizing it up for a naughty, vigorous romp.
"Not sturdy," you mutter, gasping in surprise when he quickly stands up and reaches down, wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up before striding for the door; you wrap your legs around him and bury your face in his neck as he walks to the bedroom.
He sits you on the edge of the bed and slides your panties off in one smooth motion, dropping to his knees on the floor between your spread thighs; you lean back on your elbows and watch as he lowers his head and flutters his tongue over your clit before plunging his tongue inside you, the noise you make causing him to lock eyes with you as he repeats the action. "I'm gonna cum in ten seconds if you keep that up," you whimper, biting your lip when he lifts your legs over his broad shoulders. "Then let's slow it down," he purrs against your most sensitive flesh, the vibrations from his deep voice causing a shiver of pleasure to shoot through you. "I'm gonna take my time," he continues, dropping delicate kisses and licks on your aching folds while avoiding your clit.
After what seems like an eternity on the edge, you decide to take matters into your own hands; you slide a hand in his messy curls and give a tug, using the leverage to grind your pussy against his face in a way you know he loves. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growls once you let him come up for air, his eyes dark with lust when he raises his head to look at you. "I'm seriously about to cum," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat when you quickly lift your legs off of his shoulders and slide off the bed, straddling him and reaching a hand down to line his cock up with your slick entrance before taking him balls deep.
He makes a noise that's half groan/half growl and 100% primal when your core clenches his thick length; you dig your fingers into his muscular shoulders and start riding him hard, whimpering on every down stroke at the feel of him bottoming out. He leans you back until your back is pressed against the edge of the bed, the new angle causing him to hit your sweet spot on every stroke. "Just like that!" you pant, moaning when he drops a hand down to tease your clit. "Fuck, baby," he hisses as his climax hits, the hot spurts coating your core as he pinches your clit with just the right amount of pressure to pull your trigger.
The sound of your mutual heavy breathing is the only noise you hear for several minutes; when you finally open your eyes and look at him, you have to smile at how totally fucked out he looks. "I think I passed out for a sec," you pant. "Me too," he chuckles.
~ ~ ~
Thirty minutes later -- after a shared shower where both of you laughingly complained about your shaky legs -- y'all are lying in bed, trading yawns and agreeing to sleep late the next morning.
You're just on the edge of sleep when he speaks up. "Babe? You still awake?"
"Yeah."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
The silence stretches out for a minute before he speaks up again. "It's kind of stupid, I guess. Maybe I'll keep it to myself."
"What is it?" you ask, sitting up so you can look down at him.
He scrunches his perfect nose up. "We have two games left before the bye week."
"Yeah, Cardinals and Seahawks."
"If I play really awful like I did today, and we lose both of those games, will you still secretly marry me during the bye?"
You give a snort of laughter before you realize he's not laughing with you. "Are you serious?"
"A little, yeah."
You take a deep breath before responding. "Remember that convo we had earlier tonight when I said if you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything?"
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbles.
"Well, let me drive that point home a little harder." You brush his curls off of his forehead and give him a smile before continuing. "If you play like total dogshit in both games, throw twenty picks, lose fifty to nothing, and cut a huge fart in the post-game pressers, I'll still want you more than anything. I can't wait to secretly -- and eventually not-so-secretly -- marry you. Does that answer your question?"
"Yeah," he laughs along with you for a minute before quieting down. "Sorry I'm being such a needy baby lately."
"You're being human instead of a robot," you soothe, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. "It's a nice change," you say cheekily, giggling when he flips you over and lands a loud smack on your ass. "Don't get me started," you echo his words from earlier.
He rolls you back over and pushes up on an elbow, looking down at you in the dim lighting. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I know where this is headed," you purr, licking your lips just before his mouth captures yours.
493 notes · View notes
magicalbats · 5 months
Text
Kinktober Day 18: Spanking
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Rating: R-18+
Word Count: 7590
Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, over the knee spanking (my favorite cmdmdmd), paddling with a hairbrush
A/N: I really hope this one isn't too messy, I haven't been feeling super great and I am posting this at *checks clock* 4:26 in the morning skdnfksnf so please be gentle with me! 🙈
The Duke of Meropide was a truly infuriating scoundrel! 
You’d been arguing with him in his office for almost an hour now and it felt like all you’d done is go around in endless circles. One moment he would in all seriousness shoot down a suggestion or a point you’ve made, and the next he would abruptly ask you about tea or cookies with equal sincerity. You couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and you were quickly reaching the end of your patience with him. Had the topic of reform and rehabilitation of ex inmates not been so very important to you, you’re sure you would have stormed out of his office a long time ago. 
“For the final time, my lord, I care for neither your white tea nor your black tea.” You intone as mildly as you can manage given the state of your nerves. “Please, just listen to me for a moment. That is all I ask.” 
Perfectly casual, Wriothesley reclines back into his tall chair and brings his hands together over the bend of a propped up knee. “I have been listening. Quite attentively too. However, I just don’t see how your proposal is going to work and I think you might be barking up the wrong tree, miss. My apologies for saying so.” 
“No offense taken.” You clench your jaw so tight it hurts. “But why do you think it isn’t going to work? Have I not explained the steps to successful rehabilitation enough for your liking?” 
“No, you’ve been perfectly thorough. Excessive, even.” 
Spine snapping straight at that, you pin him with a furious look you don’t even try to conceal but he just waves it off without missing a beat. 
“The problem is, I don’t think you understand how the Fortress of Meropide functions. It is you who hasn’t been listening to me, I’m afraid.” He continues on, as stony and impassive as ever. “As I already said, the inmates are free to leave once their sentences are served in full. It’s just that the vast majority of them do not wish to return to the surface world and choose to stay here of their own volition. There’s nothing I nor you can do to change that.” 
“But — but that’s because there weren’t any systems in place to help them!” You stammer, desperately rifling through your stacks of paperwork and statistics in search of the findings collected on job and housing placement welfare. Finally locating it with a triumphant puff of air, you jump to your feet and shove it at him over the desk even when he tries to once again wave it off. “The proof is right here, your grace. It should take only a moment of your time to read and understand the data presented in this report for someone as no doubt well informed as you are.” 
Stilling, Wriothesley steadily meets your look of challenge with a cool stare of his own. A beat passes and then, heaving a rather terse sigh, he reaches out to reluctantly accept the sheet from you. “I’ll look at it but I’m telling you, miss. These graphs and numbers don’t mean anything in the real world.” 
“We’ll see about that.” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, impertinently standing over him while he reads even when you know you’re really pushing your luck here. He was a duke, a by all accounts certificate wielding lord in the flesh and blood, and you, a lowly commoner, had no right to try and force his hand like this. Still, you hold your ground though, confident that you knew what you were talking about when you had the data to back it up. It was he who didn’t understand how the real world worked after spending so much time underneath the ocean in this rust bucket of bolts he called a fortress. 
His eyes steadily move over the page, taking in everything at an agreeable enough pace to placate you into silence, and Wriothesley eventually gives his head a curt nod when he reaches the bottom. “I see. It’s just as I thought.” 
You have but the blink of an eye to feel the first dawnings of hope start to crest over your heart and then, unceremonious as can be, he reaches over to neatly deposit the paper into the trash bin. 
“It’s garbage.” 
“Wh - wait just a minute - what do you mean it’s garbage?” You stammer, spit and sputter in white-hot affront so potent you start to feel your cheeks becoming warm. It takes every single ounce of self control you possess not to round on the desk and throttle the life right out of him! “If you didn’t understand the information all you had to do was ask, your grace and I would have gladly taken the time to - -“
“I understood it perfectly, miss, and I am once again telling you that it is your understanding of the situation that is inherently flawed, not mine. You simply can’t make the prisoners do something they don’t want. I trust that you do understand that much, at least?”  
“It is not a matter of making them!” You seethe, hands clenching into tight fists at your sides. “It’s giving them a viable option between spending the rest of their lives trapped under the sea or being able to rejoin their friends and family on the surface. I expected you to have at least a little bit of sympathy for the people under your care!” 
Heaving another soft sigh, Wriothesley unfolds his legs and sits forward to brace his elbows on the desk in the most impolite slouch you’ve ever seen from someone who was supposedly a part of the aristocracy. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I think I care about them a shade more than you do. We’re talking about people who have made a new place for themselves down here and it would be remiss of me to start kicking them out just so you can get your brownie points. This is their home.” 
You jerk as if he’d physically struck you. “Now you listen here - -“ 
“No. I have listened to you enough for one afternoon, miss.” He cuts across you like the crack of a whip without either raising his voice nor sharpening his tone, but the low rumble in it is still enough to stop you in your tracks. 
Eyes widening slightly, you watch him stand from his chair and sedately step around the desk to come loom over you with his imposingly massive frame that leaves you pitifully craning your neck back when he stops in front of you. 
“It’s time for you to listen to me now. I’m sure you had good intentions in coming here with this little scheme you cooked up but I’m telling you it isn’t going to work. The inmates who choose to stay here like the simplicity of life in Meropide and the stability it provides them. So long as they work hard and stay out of trouble they’ll have no problems earning a living for themselves but can the same be said about the overworld? What’s going to happen when they get fired from the jobs you place them in after running late one too many times? Or what about when they fall asleep during their shift from exhaustion? Do you know what happens when either of those things occur down here? They simply don’t get their regular number of coupons for the day but they can always come back and do better the next. Will they have that same security up on the surface?” 
“T - that’s why rehabilitation is so important.” You rush to say. “We can teach them to reintegrate into society so that they won’t have to worry about things like that - -“ 
“Everyone worries about things like that, little miss. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
Your eyes flash at him dangerously. “Do not call me that! In fact, I believe I’ve had quite enough of you at this point! I want to speak to someone else! Preferably a person with something more substantial than rocks for brains!” 
Wriothesley scowls at that, narrowing his own eyes back at you in warning. “You can want it all you like but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. I’m the only person you need to speak to right now … and I would suggest you reconsider how you’re speaking to me.” 
“Hah! Or what?” Riding high on adrenaline and jittery nerves, you impulsively reach out to jab a finger at the center of his big, beefy chest. “You can’t throw me into a cell just because you don’t like the tone of my voice! Is that the kind of operation you're running down here? Maybe when I get back up to the surface I should contact The Steambird about the tyrannical power trip his grace is on!” 
He snorts a brief laugh as if the very notion was a ludicrous one, though you couldn’t tell if it was your assertion or the thought that you might go to the papers that he found humorous. “That’s funny, but I don’t need to throw you in prison just to put you in your place, miss. I’m giving you one final warning to knock it off and calm down.” 
You take an aggressive step closer to him, head tilted all the way back now so you could see his face past the bulky mass across his pectorals. “Enlighten me then, my lord. What are you going to do to me if I don’t bend the knee?” 
“I think I might start by taking you over my knee first.” 
Giving a startled jerk, you go stock still and just stare at him for the span of a single heartbeat. The ice suddenly gripping your veins is instantly replaced by a hot, raging inferno that seems to make your blood boil and, seeing red, you viciously bring your heel down on the top of his boot, grinding it in for good measure. “I’d like to see you try it, you ba - -“ 
His hand shoots up and, much to your squawking surprise, he grabs around the meat of your upper arm to tug you into him, making you stumble and half fall against the bend of his elbow. Before you even have a chance to draw a full breath to berate him with his other hand cracks across the meat of your ass with a deafening whap! The sharp pain is immediate and splintering, rocking you against him with the abrupt impact as your mouth warbles open in equal parts hurt and shock. He gives your arm a tight yank to keep you pressed in against his side when you try to scuttle away, nudging you insistently until you realize you have no choice but to look up at him except … except you’re not sure if you do so with impotent rage darkening your face or if it’s a tearfully remorseful expression he sees looking back at him. 
Perhaps it was a frustrating combination of the two? 
Wriothesley regards you in contemplative silence for a long moment, his own facial expression not giving much of anything away while the blinding sting across your backside gradually settles into a constant burning throb, but you don’t know what else to do other than stand there and wait for him to say something. You couldn’t believe he’d struck you like that — like a child! You’d only just met the duke today so for him to be putting his hands on you like that was beyond ridiculous, and completely inappropriate. But for as mad as you were, even for as much as your body trembles with frantic, clawing anger, you didn’t quite trust yourself to speak just yet … he would hear about it soon enough. In great detail and at even greater length, once you’d recovered enough to not need to worry your voice would crack and waver over your words. Very soon indeed. 
“I told you what was going to happen,” He says at last, perfectly calm and even toned as ever considering he’d just hit you. “Didn’t I, little miss?” 
Glaring daggers at him, you give your body a furious wrench against his hold but he keeps you in place easily enough. His hand was just so big it seemed to nearly encompass the total width of your bicep, allotting him the perfect hold on you that would only cause pain and discomfort if you were to truly struggle which left you with very little in the way of options. Grudgingly, you go still again and petulantly turn your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. You needed to focus on calming yourself before anything else. Acting rash now was only going to get you hurt. 
“I don’t know who you think you are,” You finally manage to hiss. “But you've got a lot of nerve to put your hands on me like this.”
“And what are you going to do about it?” He volleys right back, not missing a beat, and you irritably twitch when you realize he’s thrown your own words back at you. He’d be in for a rude awakening soon enough, if you had any say in the matter. 
“Enjoy your fun while you can, your grace. I was only bluffing earlier but now I think I really will go to The Steambird and tell them everything that’s transpired here today! What do you think about that, hm?” Impulsively, you whip your head back around to pin him with a biting look of challenge, but he just lifts his brows up at you as if in surprise. 
“I think you are indeed a mouthy little brat in need of a good spanking to correct that attitude of yours. What are you going to do at The Steambird then? Take your pants down to show them your red bottom and let them take pictures for the morning paper?” Clicking his tongue, Wriothesley shakes his head as if in disappointment. “You’re not thinking this through all the way, but I suspect that’s a problem you regularly struggle with. Come, let’s get you sorted out.” 
You suck in a horrified, raking breath when he shifts as if to move back towards his chair and quickly dig your heels into the ground to stop it. “W - wait! You can’t do this!” You wail, and a foolish pitter patter of hope skips across your chest when he actually pauses to look at you again. Maybe you could still talk your way out of this. It might cost you some of your pride, but that seemed a reasonable sacrifice given the situation. “Ah, what I meant to say is … I’m sorry?” 
A sudden, clipped bark of laughter bursts out of him. “No you’re not.” 
“I am, really! I’m very sorry for, um, stepping on your boot like that. I’ll have it cleaned and polished if you’d like. Just please let me go. Please?” 
“I don’t think so.” 
Wriothesley starts to pull you into motion again and you reel back against his hold even when it makes his thick, blocky fingers sink into the meat of your arm. “Wait! I promise I’m sorry, I really, really am! I didn’t mean it! I swear!”  
Breathing out a patient sigh through his nose, he gently (surprisingly so) tugs you around to stand in front of him even when you stumble and drag your feet in a blithe attempt to avoid compliance. “You’re only sorry right now because you’re in trouble. I’m going to give you something to think about and a chance to reflect on your actions, and then you’ll really be sorry. Is that clear enough for you, miss?” 
“You can’t do this …” 
“Oh, but I can. Take a look around you and tell me where you’re standing. This is my fortress which means I get to make the rules here. If I decide bratty girls who like to run their mouths even after being told to calm down — repeatedly, might I add — need a spanking to get them in order then that is exactly what’s going to happen. And do let me remind you that I gave you plenty of chances to heed my warnings but you didn’t. You can thank your own attitude for getting you into this predicament.” 
You try very hard to keep your expression in check but you’re pretty sure you fail rather miserably at it, and a flash of that vulnerable fear still manages to creep into your face. “I am not a child!” You insist, shuddering violently. “You can’t treat me like one! That’s not fair!” 
“Oh, I’d say what’s not fair is barging in here like you own the place and not listening to a word I say. You’ve certainly acted like a child so I think I’m perfectly in my right to treat you like one now.” 
Not giving you a chance to think of something else to say and further stall, Wriothesley suddenly swoops down and curls his arm around your thighs so he can yank you right up off your feet. You choke in surprise as much as at the sudden rush of movement, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it when he straightens up with you clutched across his front. Stinging hot tears flood your eyes all at once and you seethe, kicking and flailing, as he effortlessly carries you back around to the desk. It’s like you barely weigh anything in his arms which neither shudder or strain to hold you no matter how wildly you try to fight him. Even when he takes his seat again he still manages to much too easily manhandle you into place across his lap like you weren’t even struggling with every single ounce of strength you possessed. 
In shockingly quick order you find yourself spread across his legs, on your tummy, but still you hiss and twist until his hand abruptly strikes across your upturned ass again. You jump so hard you nearly collapse right then and there but the thick, burly arm now curled over your trembling body keeps you firmly in place when you lurch. Wheezing frantically, you try to push yourself upright but it’s no use, and his palm swats you over your pants again, rapidly draining you of the energy to keep up the effort any longer when it hurt so bad it seemed to rob you of the ability to even think straight. Mewling at the deep hurt, you jerk forward at the next strike and let out a pitiful, broken little sob. 
“I warned you to stop.” He reminds you again, falling into an easy steady rhythm. Whap, whap, whap, whap. One cheek and then the next, each hit somehow worse than the last as the burning sting grows and spreads across your defenseless backside. Even your desperate squirming was not enough to dissuade him from finding his mark as he peppers your sit spots in quick, agonizing succession. “I gave you so many chances too, but you just wouldn’t listen. Why is that, huh? Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?” 
“Please stop — oww! T - that hurts, you damn brute — oww!” 
“Keep it up and I’m just going to keep adding more. When you can’t sit right for the next week you’ll think back on this, I promise you that.” 
Clenching your teeth, you fiercely try to keep the tears at bay so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you cry but the intense, constant crack of his hand on your ass soon wins out and they start to track wet lines down your burning face. You sniffle sadly and weakly kick your legs out behind you, making an attempt to curl them up and shield your already sore behind, but he just roughly tugs you further across his lap. Abruptly finding yourself slipping forward to half dangle over the side of the chair, you gasp and mindlessly stiffen up across his lap to stop your balance from tipping. That quickly proves to be a mistake though when the tense way you’re now holding your body just seems to make it hurt even worse, and you plaintively shake your head with a wordless shriek. 
“Please stop it, your — ah! Your grace! I’m begging, I can’t — oww!” 
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you kept acting up.”
Whap, whap, whap, whap 
“Ow, ow, owowow, ow! You’re … you’re doing it too hard! Stop it!” 
Wriothesley chuckles somewhere far above you, the low timber of his voice blanketing over your muddied senses to make you shiver. “Actually, I don’t think I’m going hard enough yet. Not for the way you were behaving. Not to worry though, all in due time. This is just the warm up, after all.” 
You go stock still across his legs, your heart skipping a long, harrowing beat. A warm up - -
“Yeow! Sto - ah - ahhhp! Please!” 
Whap, whap, whap, whap 
Hanging your head low, you openly sob and kick at the air now, clutching his thick boot with one hand while the other hangs onto the chair leg in a death grip to somewhat steady yourself. The sharp stabs of pain seem to chip away at your consciousness bit by bit, each slap of his massive hand taking with it a little piece of you each time it recedes. You’re so dazed by the constant onslaught that you almost don’t notice when he abruptly pauses and grabs under your arms. 
Then you’re suddenly being hauled up and forced to stand on legs that immediately threaten to give out under you but Wriothesley just guides you around to stand between his legs. Furiously trying to wipe the evidence of tears from your face with a sleeve, you blearily watch as he brings his hands up to unbutton the front of your pants which he unceremoniously tugs down your legs to leave them bunched around your ankles. You can’t help but gasp, your cheeks burning even hotter at having your panties suddenly exposed to him, but you don’t get the chance to so much as suck in a shuddering breath let alone actually voice your protests. 
Just like that, he’s dragging you back down over his lap and you twist against his hold with renewed fervor, clawing viciously at any part of him you can reach. His palm mercilessly swatting you across the back of your underwear freezes you in place though, and you let out a high pitched, keening sound at this new level of hell he’s introduced you to. It’s so much worse without your slacks in the way and just the thin layer of cotton to protect you from the full brunt of his punishing slaps. You’re so caught up in trying to process the extent of it when he shifts over top of you that you don’t even think to shriek at him to stop — but then his unoccupied hand fists the material of your panties and yanks them up to pull firm against your screaming backside. You outright squawk and choke at the sensation only to realize what he’s doing a split second later when he swats your ass again and the hurt suddenly feels like it’s skin to skin. 
Howling in distress, you jerk and writhe against his legs but Wriothesley’s hold on your underwear effectively stops you from crawling away. You simply can’t escape it and the space between your ears is soon once again filled with the sharp swat! of his hand lighting you up. It was easily the worst thing you’d ever experienced, even putting aside the inherent humiliation of being spanked over his knee with your pants around your ankles. 
“Waaa - aahhaaaaaa! Your grace, I - I’m sorry … owwww!” 
“Are you now?” He murmurs, punctuating the soft tone of his voice with two blistering slaps, one to each cheek to leave you withering in his hold. “And what are you sorry for, little miss? Come on, speak up.” 
That was incredibly difficult to do when he wasn’t letting up on your ass for even a moment but, hoping against hope that placating him might make this end quicker, you suck in a haggard, gasping breath to steady yourself. “I’m sorry for - eek! I’m sorry for all the rude things I said to you earlier! Oww! I - I shouldn’t have come in here and - ahh! Ahh! I shouldn’t have disrespected you in your fortress, your grace! I promise I’m sorry!” 
“And what else?” 
What else? What else even was there! 
You desperately try to think, to figure it out, but your head is swimming so fast you start to think you might pass out. Loosing a broken moan, you agonizingly kick back and try to find purchase on the floor, only succeeding in half sliding off his knee. He easily readjusts his hold and rather meanly pulls harder on your panties though, making you squeal when they dig into your cunt and it essentially forces you to straighten your legs instead of slouching away from the continuous barrage of his hand. You choke on some kind of mindless animal sound and try to shove yourself forward in your desperation but he just spanks you even harder for the trouble. 
“Well? I’m waiting.” 
“I don’t know!” You cry out, dancing on the tips of your toes as if that would somehow alleviate some of the deep, throbbing ache encompassing your rear end. “I don’t know your grace, I don’t know but I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 
You just barely manage to catch the sound of him clicking his tongue over your wailing. “How can you be sorry for something if you don’t even know what it is? You’re really not taking this seriously, are you?”
“I am!” 
He stops so abruptly you lurch, gasping, as if he’d followed through on delivering the next blow. Shuddering uncontrollably, you warily twist to look over your shoulder with big, wet eyes to watch him fold your panties down over your ass to join your slacks around your ankles. Realizing what he’s doing your fight or flight instincts seem to kick in like never before, and you hysterically wrench against his hold. To your stumbling surprise you actually manage to slip free for a split second, for the span of but a single heartbeat, and then he’s reaching up before you can get your trembling legs to cooperate and he roughly tucks you down across his thigh again. This time with that heavy, corded steel arm locked around your waist. 
“Wait, wait, wait - -“ 
Smack! 
Your ass promptly erupts in splinters, every single nerve ending in your behind vibrating numbly at the impact. It punches the air right out of your lungs, leaves you gasping for even a sliver of air, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully process the hurt. Smack, smack, smack, smack! The crack of his hand across your bare skin sounds deafening now and you shake uncontrollably as you cry out in unrestrained agony. Back and forth between each burning red, swollen cheek, he pays equal attention to both sides until it feels like the tingling flesh is quite literally on fire. You writhe against the blinding hurt and sob so hard the shudders wrack through you from head to toe even as you weakly try to push up and squeeze through his arm. It’s no use though. Wriothesley’s hold is as good as iron and all you can do is wrench at each blistering crack without any way to escape it. 
“Well?” He expectantly prompts, but you’re a little too far gone in the swimming daze to properly respond now, just noising a series of incomprehensible whines and mewls with every strike. Quickly picking up that you were slipping under now, he breathes out a stilted sigh. “If there is but one thing you take away from this,” He intones, still bringing his palm down again and again, and again. “Let it be to pick your opponents more wisely in the future. You don’t just get to walk in here and start calling the shots, do you understand me?” 
You croak out something that might be a yes, incomprehensibly slurred between all the tears and snot running down your face, and the sad little hiccups making your throat constrict. That seems to be good enough for him though, and he just presses on. 
“I was nice enough to invite you to come to Meropide,” smack, smack, smack, smack “Even though I could have turned you down right from the start. I already knew your little pet project wasn’t going to pan out,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I figured I’d at least hear you out first and this is how you decided to repay me? Despite what you probably think, I don’t like having to punish people,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I’m not about to let some upstart little brat come in here and try to tell me what my inmates need. You don’t know the first thing about this place no matter what all your worthless charts tell you.” 
Smack, smack, smack! Smack! 
You flinch, weakly rocking forward when the next slap never comes. Groaning thickly, you squirm and dance on your feet, trying to shake off some of the discomfort even though it’s useless, but still he just sits there. You’re distantly aware of him breathing a bit heavier than before, either worked up from the act itself or the physical exertion of delivering a sound spanking, and you just whine low in your throat at the resounding throb throughout your body. It seems to claw through you and set every single nerve to trembling vibration, leaving you quaking violently in his hold. 
Finally, what feels like an eternity later, Wriothesley draws a steadying inhale. “Have you learned your lesson?” 
“Y - yes …” You croak out with no shortage of effort, but his blocky fingers just dig into your hip to give you a brief jostle
“Wanna’ try that again?” 
Your already strained heartbeat somehow manages to become even more wild at the panic that rushes in to smother over you. What did he want? Would he spank you again if you didn’t figure out the answer? 
“Yes, sir?” 
“That’s better.” He relents, giving your shuddering thigh an amicable pat. Silence descends over the office for a drawn out beat and then he suddenly leans forward, half dragging you with him while he opens one of the drawers on the desk to rummage around. “I don’t think you’re really sorry, not yet. But you will be soon. I know I have that damn hairbrush Sigewinne gave me somewhere.” 
A hairbrush? 
Your blood turns to ice at the implication, and the fresh wave of fear that abruptly grips you in a chokehold seems to clear some of the fog from your head. You could think just a little bit clearer now and you did not like where your thoughts were going, not one bit. Surely he wouldn’t actually take it that far after already abusing your ass so much with his hand. 
“Your g - grace?”  
Ignoring or just not hearing the weak little mouse squeak, Wriothesley settles back into his chair again, grabbing a pinching handful of your inner thigh to drag it over his knee once more. He doesn’t quite force your body across his lap but he does make sure you’re stretched out in a rather inelegant sprawl that leaves your legs embarrassingly spread and you start to shake in earnest now. You hadn’t thought it was possible for the human body to vibrate at such a high frequency but that's exactly what seems to be happening as the crushing reality of the situation gradually settles over you like a shroud. 
And then, the press of something solid and flat touches your burning ass, and you practically jolt right up off his legs altogether. 
Your skin crawls with it making you feel truly sick and nauseous even as you frantically try to twist your neck around to see. He’s got you at such an awkward angle though that you can’t make out much of anything and your panic rapidly starts to ratchet up into damn near a full on attack until he gently taps the object against your behind to pull your attention back into the moment. 
“I’m going to give you twenty spanks with this brush, little miss. I want you to count them, and don’t forget to show me some respect while you do it.” 
“I - I - I can’t, sir, I can’t, I can’t take anymore, p - please, it’s too much - -“
“Hush. I’ve got you,” He coos, unexpectedly gentle and soft, but it doesn’t do much to ease your heaving gasps or the erratic pounding of your heart. Still, you find yourself grudgingly getting pulled into that tender croon and you make a conscious effort to calm down even as you sway unsteadily over his thigh. “You’re alright. You’ll just get yourself all worked up over nothing acting like that. Deep breaths. That’s it. Now take another for me. Good girl. See? You can listen when you want to. It’s not so bad, is it?” 
He offers the pudge around your hip a reassuring, possibly even approving squeeze when your breathing starts to slow to a normal, wheezing pant rather than the thin lungfulls you’d been sucking in just moments ago. You decidedly disliked him a great deal, perhaps more so than you’d ever disliked any one single person in all your life, but you were at least glad he was able to keep you grounded. Never mind the fact he was the cause of it to begin with, you were just thankful it didn’t feel like you were going throw up and pass out anymore. 
And still the throbbing burn across your ass keeps pulling tiny little whimpers from your dry throat. It really was too much. 
“Is it necessary?” You finally manage to rattle out. 
“The brush? In my eyes it is, yes. This will show me whether or not you’ve been paying attention this whole time, if you can be respectful towards me throughout this last leg even though you’ll probably want to curse me to high heaven and back. If you can tell me you’re really sorry when we’re done then it will be over. Does that sound agreeable to you?” 
Groaning in defeat, you hang your head low and just take a moment to think. Your options were regretfully limited but … you wanted to trust him at his word and, more importantly, you just wanted to have it done and over with already. The pain crawling across your backside was immeasurable, gradually receding to a dull, distant, but no less teeth clattering ache that reminded you it was there with every thrumming pulse, and he was right to say you wanted to curse him for it. You would have given anything to do just that but Wriothesley had made it clear what he expected of you. Obedience, compliance, respect. 
Perhaps you should have expected no less from the reclusive Duke of Meropide but you certainly would not be making this mistake again. 
“Yes, sir.” You whisper into the stillness at last, a sort of numb surprise curling over you at the lack of bite in your own voice. You’d expected to hear bitter tears, anger, defensive pride, not … such a soft, almost shaky little note of submission. 
The very idea that his unjust treatment of you had somehow accomplished exactly what it was meant to chills you almost as much as it brings you a strange sense of comfort which he only further enforces by warmly caressing his unoccupied palm over the curve of your bare waist. 
“Good. Then let’s get started.” 
An expectant pause and then — whap! 
You violently lurch, dizzy and disoriented from the sudden intensity of the impact. It was so different from his hand, so hard and unforgiving that it made your stomach feel like it was about to burst right up out of your throat. Reeling and weakly gasping in the aftermath, you futilely arch against the sting, kicking your legs out, but there’s no escaping it or shaking it off. The pain seems to engulf you all at once, making you choke on a haggard, gutted little sound. Like you couldn’t even scream around it and only whimper in breathless, mind numbing agony. 
“O - one, sir.” You finally manage to rattle out to his humming satisfaction. 
Whap! On the other sore cheek. 
“Oh! Oh, oh, oooohhhh, n - nnghhnhn!! Two, sir …” 
Whap! Back to the first. Whap! The second again. 
You can’t quite formulate the words now, just laying there spread out on Wriothesley’s lap while your legs uncontrollably shake and you suck in quick, faltering thin gasps of air in an attempt to reorient yourself. It was like the sharp, oppressively heavy stroke of the wooden brush was knocking your brain around and making it hard just to remember how to breathe. Sniffling back a rush of fresh tears, however, you force your mind to stay focused in the here and now rather than drifting off to some faraway place where you currently weren’t getting your ass beat. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Why he was making you count like this, to keep you firmly planted and present to ensure your attention didn’t start to slip at the first chance and you remained attentive for this final part of your trial. The sadistic bastard. 
“Four, sir …” 
Whap! Whap! 
“O - oooh, gods … s - six, sir.” 
Whap! Whap! 
You have to take a moment to collect yourself, to breathe through the sickening pain that encompasses your backside, and he waits patiently until you eventually lift your head again. “Eight, sir.” 
Whap! 
“Eeekk! Ahh, ah … nine — ahhn, sir!” 
Dazed and more than just a little lost in the hazy delirium swimming around your head, you slowly start to find and grasp at a tiny fraction of your inner strength. Your voice comes quicker, albeit thinner, as you hold your breath tightly over the course of the next few swats of the brush, finally seeing an end in sight just over the horizon. A few more and then you would be done. You could leave this place and never see the duke again for as long as you lived. 
“Fifteen, sir!” You hear yourself blurt out, nearly sobbing in relief only to choke on it when the next swing cracks down on the opposite cheek a second later. Seething viciously, you shake for a moment before gritting out the next number. And the next. 
You’re practically hysterical when you finally get to nineteen, all but blubbering across his lap, but you take the last strike like a champ, squealing a cursory, “Twenty, sir!” And then immediately giving in to the urge to dance on your toes, trying in vain to chase away some of the skin crawling ache by moving around. He leans back into the chair, just giving you a moment to process it on your own terms, before eventually loosening his arm around your middle so he can help you up. You move gingerly and wheeze through the process of getting your jelly filled legs underneath you but, at last, you find yourself standing between the wide spread of his knees and you cautiously reach back to rub your sore bottom. 
You regret it immediately, hissing at the intense heat coming off the abused skin as much as the stabs of pain just brushing your fingertips against the tender area causes. But before you can truly process the full brunt of it, he takes your wrist in hand and tugs it away from your behind so he can hold it between the two of you instead. 
“You’re welcome to try but it isn’t going to do much to take away any of the pain. You’ll have that reminder in the back of your mind for the next few days, any time you sit or your clothes rub against it.” A pause while he studies you with that frustratingly impassive expression, taking in your wet face, the clumps of your eyelashes where they’re sticking together, the distant look in your eyes. He takes it all in and then offers you a small, brief smile. “Are you sorry now?” 
You almost choose petulant silence but, not wanting to tempt fate any further, you slowly nod your head. “Yes, sir. I’m very sorry for how I acted towards you today, and for not listening when you told me to stop. I won’t do it again.” 
“Good girl.” Giving your fingers a quick squeeze, he reaches down to take hold of your hips in both of his massive hands and carefully guide you back a step so he can rise to his feet as well. “Alright, go stand in the corner. Face the wall and keep your cute bottom uncovered.”
Immediately planting your feet into the floor when he tries to nudge you in the general direction of the wall, you send him a flustered look of warning. “You said that would be the end of it.” 
“It was, and you did so well for someone whom I suspect hasn’t been spanked nearly enough in her lifetime. But,” Wriothesley quickly holds up a hand to stop you when you draw a sharp, scathing breath to snap at him with. “It’s usually customary to give you a chance to further reflect on your punishment while the sting settles the rest of the way in. Besides, I need to run down to the infirmary to get a cream for your butt and you can’t very well sit down right now, can you?”
“You are infuriating!” You practically spit at him, fists clenching with the urge to reach out and punch him square in the solar plexus. “What exactly do you think this is, your grace? A fun little afternoon we’ve shared together over tea and gossip? I don’t want your stupid cream! I want to leave this place and never be forced to look upon you ever again, do you hear me?” 
“Oh, I hear you loud and clear.” Wriothesley murmurs with an accompanying quirk of his brow to go along with it. “Gotta’ say though, I wasn’t expecting you to bounce right back to your earlier attitude so fast. Usually brats like you need a bit more time to recoup some of their charge after getting it all out of their system like that.”
You reel back in abject shock. “Brats like me? You have some nerve acting like I’m the problem when you just - -“ 
He reaches up quicker than you can react and abruptly pulls you into the front of him, one hand lifting to cradle your head against the firm, muscular wall of his body while the other curls around your back so you can’t escape. Your skin positively crawls at the contact, lips pulling back in a vicious snarl, but then … he just gently rocks you back and forth, softly petting your hair while he does it, and you go stock still in your surprise. You didn’t understand it. What he was doing or why he was doing it, and you understood even less why it almost made you feel a bit — funny inside. Tingly, almost. 
“There, there,” Wriothesley murmurs, just holding you tightly enough to prevent escape but still soft enough not to smother. “Is this what you need instead? I didn’t take you for the sort but I have no problem giving it to you as long as it gets rid of that grumpy frown for a little while. You’re way cuter when you don’t look so damn mad …” 
You stand there for a long beat unsure of how to react. Knowing you should kick up a fit, fight him tooth and nail, drag his name through the mud for how he’s treated you here today and yet — somehow the heat of his body, the heady scent of his muted cologne seems to drain the fight from your body. It leaves you feeling empty and hollow, and a sudden rush of emotions quickly floods in to replace it all. You don’t really understand it, nor are you entirely sure you want to, but you were a little too tired to keep up the pretense any longer. Not while there was a veritable storm whipping up inside your chest.
Eyes watering with a new, inexplicable sheen of tears, you slowly bring your hands up to clutch at his waistcoat. Maybe it would be okay if you entertained this for just another moment longer … maybe you could attack him when his guard was down after you’d finished fighting back the sobs suddenly threatening to wrack through your body. He’d chipped away at you, wiped the slate clean, so to speak, and now he was filling you back up with a comforting warmth you wouldn’t have expected from him given his icy demeanor. 
You still weren’t particularly fond of his methods but at least there was some amount of peace to be found in his embrace, and you may or may not have liked it just a teeny tiny bit. Not that you’d ever admit that to Wriothesley, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You could certainly keep the secret.
Crossposted: here
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lyzsaphrodite · 1 month
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༊*·˚ Home is Where the Heart is ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
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Dior Goodjohn x fem!reader
synopsis: You and Dior are long distanced and she decides to surprise you by coming to visit you for your birthday.
warnings: fluff, fluff, and fluff
a/n: this is not my best writing ever i just wanted to get this out while i work on the Summer fic
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You and Dior have been in a long-distance relationship for about a year and a half now. You met on the set of Percy Jackson and instantly clicked; she ended up asking you out two months into filming. After season one wrapped, she went back home to LA, and you returned to your hometown. You haven't seen each other in person since filming wrapped six months ago, because you're still in school. You guys text multiple times a day and FaceTime at least once a day, but it's still hard for both of you. Especially for you since your love language is physical touch, and you just like to have physical connections with people. Your birthday was coming up, so Dior thought it would be an amazing idea if she came and surprised you. She planned it all out with your family; she would fly in on your actual birthday and stay for a month.
Today was finally your birthday. You woke up to look at your phone and found a bunch of birthday wishes from friends, family, and even fans. But none from the person that mattered most to you. You didn't think she would ever forget your birthday. Maybe she just wasn't awake yet, even though it was currently noon, which means it was 9 in LA, and she's always up before 9. But you just decided not to worry about it. You still had the whole day. You were really bummed that she wouldn't be able to come for your birthday, but you understand that she's busy with her music and everything. You got out of bed, took a shower, and got ready for the day. You and your best friend decided to go shopping for your birthday. You visited all your favorite stores, getting all of your birthday freebies. By the time you and your best friend headed home, it was around 4 o’clock, and you've yet to get a message from Dior, which made you visibly disappointed. Your best friend kept seeing you checking your messages every few minutes and finally decided to say something.
“I’m sure she didn't forget; you know her, she's always busy with something.”
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure everyone but her has wished me a happy birthday though. Like even at the mall, those fans who came up to us to say happy birthday, I didn't even know them. And I thought she would be one of the first to say it.”
You finally arrived home and went straight upstairs to put your bags down and take off your shoes. You were home for around 30 minutes when you finally heard the doorbell ring.
“Y/N, someone's here for you,” your mom yelled. You had no clue who it could be; you weren't expecting anyone.
“Coming!” you yelled back to your mom. You hurried down the stairs to the front door, and standing there was Dior with her bags and a gift. She looks just as beautiful as she always does.
“Hey, baby,” she said, smiling.
You had absolutely no idea how to react; you were definitely not expecting this at all. You ran to her and jumped to hug her. As she held and hugged you, you started to tear up.
“I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you weren't able to come.”
“I wanted to surprise you, sweet girl.”
“How long are you staying?”
“For a month.”
“Oh my gosh, no way!”
“Way!”
“OMG, and Mom, you knew about this?”
Your mom just smiled and nodded.
“Yep, and so did your best friend.”
“OMG!! I cannot believe this; I thought you forgot my birthday!”
“I could never forget your birthday, mamas.”
You and Dior share a passionate kiss, the weight of her surprise visit lifting a heavy burden off your shoulders. In that moment, all the worries and doubts melted away, replaced by the warmth of her presence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The month that followed was a whirlwind of joy and reconnection. Every day felt like a treasure, filled with laughter, adventures, and stolen moments of affection. Whether it was exploring your hometown together, cooking meals side by side, or simply cuddling on the couch watching movies, every second was cherished. On the day of her departure, you stood at the airport, hand in hand, hearts heavy with the weight of impending separation.
"I wish we lived closer," you managed to say, your voice breaking slightly as you fought back tears, the airport's din muffling your words.
Dior's eyes softened, mirroring the sorrow in your own as she squeezed your hand gently. "I know, darling. It's hard saying goodbye every time," she murmured, her voice tinged with empathy.
You leaned into her embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of her presence amidst the impersonal hustle of the airport. "I hate it when you leave," you stated simply, your voice carrying a mix of longing and frustration, the airport's commotion providing a stark backdrop to your heartfelt confession.
Dior's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the pain of separation. "I feel it too, love. It never gets any easier," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in her shoulder, the weight of longing settling heavily in your chest. "I just wish we could be together more often," you confessed, your voice barely audible above the noise of the crowd.
Dior's fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, her touch a silent reassurance. "Me too, sweetheart. But no matter the distance, you'll always have my heart," she vowed, her words a promise of enduring love.
And as you stood together in the midst of the bustling airport terminal, surrounded by the chaos of departure, you found solace in the simple act of being together, knowing that no matter where life may take you, your love would always be a constant, guiding light in the darkness.
this is unusually short because I didn't know how to end it
taglist: @asvterias
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pamgkrthwrites · 5 months
Text
2500 please?
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Fandom: BNHA
Pairing: Dad!Bakugou x F!Reader
Themes: Bakugou is not the perfect dad but is trying his best, based off of a TikTok Sound
Summary: You get a call from your nearly 16-year-old daughter at 2 a.m. asking for $2500.
Word Count: 1K
Tag List: @optimisticprime3 @dreamcastgirl99 (Sorry if I've forgotten or gotten someone's tag wrong)
A/N: I should've been working on an assignment instead of this....
“Hey mama, do you have $2500 you can send me?” You heard your 15-year-old daughter’s voice through the phone.
You leaned up in your and Katsuki’s bed, looking at the time. “Katsumi, it’s 2 am. What do you possibly need $2500 for?” Your head hot the pillow before you suddenly sat u straight. “Katsumi, where are you?”
“Um-” You heard your daughter’s voice go weak though you could still hear her smile over the phone. “An escape room?”
“The truth, Katsumi.” You warned, sitting up in your bed.
“... Prison?”
You sat up straight, your eyes open wide. “PRISON?!”
Your husband Katsuki sturred awake, mumbling some curses.
“You can’t tell daddy!” Katsumi’s voice strained. “My friends and I were just goofing around-”
“Can’t tell me what?” You heard Katsuki's grumbly voice say before you turned your head, seeing your very tired 42-year-old husband. He grabbed your phone as he sat up, pulling it to his ear. “What did you do and where are you?”
You heard your daughter's voice become quieter and you could imagine her doing the thing she’s done since she was 3 and got in trouble with your husband. Lower lip pouting, looking down with hands behind her back and kicking rockings with her feet.
“... My friends and I snuck out and we went to a party and the cops were called and apparently there were drugs-”
“Drugs?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed. “You’re doing drugs?!”
“Nononono!” Katsumi panickingly rushed out. “There happened to be drugs there! That’s why we got arrested-”
“ARRESTED?!” Katsuki was going to pop a blood vessel with how angry he was.
You heard your youngest daughter Fuku crying now from her room. You gave your husband a look, but all you saw was anger behind his eyes. He took a deep as he clutched onto your phone tightly. 
“Where are you being held?” He asked through gritted teeth as he signalled to you to check on your 7-year-old daughter.
You groaned as you got out of bed to go check on your youngest.
Katsuki waited until you left the room before glaring at the phone as if Katsumi could see his glare. “You’ll be grounded for 2 months, your birthday party is cancelled and you’ll write your mother an apology letter.”
“What?! But that's so unfair!-”
“Do you want me to come pick you up or do you just want to walk straight home?” You snapped at his daughter.
“... Fine…”
The drive from the police station was long and awkward. Katsumi wondered if her father was driving the long way home just so the guilt would eat her alive. She looked up at Katsuki with her eyes, the same eyes that you had.
He was silently fuming.
She looked out of the sports car passenger window, looking at her reflection in the side mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged and her father’s wheat-blonde hair looked messy with your hair texture on her head.
“Where’s mama?” She asked.
“At home. Someone had to watch your sisters.” He answered coldly. 
When he noticed he was getting close to the street they lived on, he parked on the side of the road close to the park he used to take Katsumi to.
She stared at the park, remembering when she first got her quirk at the said park when she was 4. How you held her so closely with a smile and spun her around while Katsuki just watched, realising Katsumi had his same quirk.
“Why did you go?” He asked her, trying to keep a level head.
“I just wanted to do something fun with my friends.”
“You’re 16 in 4 days!” He pointed out to her. “You shouldn’t have snuck out! What if something worse happened than just drugs happening?”
“Why would you care-”
“Because you are my daughter, Katsumi!” Katsuki tried to hold back a tempered response. You told him to be gentle. He was never really good at it. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “Is this about that boy at school?”
The lack of a response from Katsumi confirmed it Katsuki. He took a breath in trying to not get angry.
“I know you don’t like him-”
“Understatement of the year, Sumi.” Katsuki butted in.
“-but I really like him!” Katsumi had small tears in her eyes and her fists clenched.
Katsuki was silent, tapping his finger on the wheel. 
“... Don’t change yourself for some boy, Katsumi.” Katsuki said to her. “If you’re going to date, don’t make it a life lesson for yourself.”
Katsumi turned her head away from her father, crossing her arms. “Whatever.”
Katsumi barged through the front door, avoiding making eye contact with you as she made her way to her bedroom, passing her sisters’ rooms along the way. She slammed the door shut and locked the door, leaving you and Katsuki alone with high tension lingering in the house.
“What did you say to her?” You asked him with a raised brow.
“I told her not to change for that stupid boyfriend.” You angrily answered as he made his way back to your two’s bedroom.
Once you closed the door did he take off his shoes and shirt before getting back into bed. You sat beside him and gently rubbed his old man's back.
“Was he at that party?” You asked Katsuki gently.
“I don’t fucking know-! Probably!” He groaned, burrowing his face into a pillow.
“... Maybe we need to have the talk with her-” You stopped yourself when you saw the nasty look Katsuki was giving you. “Don’t act like that, Katsu. I started having sex when I was around her age.”
“With who?” He glared, his possessiveness over you still strong as ever, even after 18 years of marriage.
You just rubbed his back. “Not important. You have to accept that she’s going to start dating, there isn’t much you can do about that.”
Katsuki sighed, getting comfortable in bed. “Let’s just go to sleep. It’s 3am.”
You leaned down and kissed Katsuki’s forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
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