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#fucking time travel convenience
platyroonism · 2 months
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ra ta tooey
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poptartmochi · 7 months
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oh i finally realized why the agathos are 💢💢💢 towards vergil 🤏🏻🕶️😳
#besides the whole wanting to go to hell thing being counter to their own beliefs and morals#because you know i think. given the context of being a Son of Sparda. there's an obvious and logical desire to know your father better#so i think the agathos Could empathize would that. many of them probably Would empathize with that!#so that overall argument falls flat bc the agathos Overall dislike vergil. why would All of Them go 😒😒 at him?#well it finally clicked :] if you sacrifice your right to peaceful eternal slumber to confine One Fucking Guy in time prison forever#and dumb people keep showing up to your time prison because the One Fucking Guy was notorious for hoarding secret knowledge#and these people keep getting killed in pursuit of evil knowledge + thus fueling the One Fucking Guy's ability to some day break the chains#of the time prison and invoke calamity yet again. Well! wouldn't it be quite frankly Alarming#if some dude with MegaBlood™️ that everyone can smell from a mile away waltzed in... get this!! ALSO in search of the evil knowledges#thus kind of threatening at its very core the exact thing you sacrificed your human soul and afterlife to..#and despite your big red warning signs to LEAVE he just pushes further and further into your time prison and closer + closer to The One#Fucking Guy.. it's one thing for his travelling buddy to do that bc whatever 🙄 she's just a human after all. it will take like 400 more of#her to break the time prison.. but this one guy is like.. 500 of her in one convenient little package! fucked up!!#there is some vergil apologism amongst the agathos but overall they're like 😑😑😑 *skyrim guard voice* NEVER should've come here!!!! 💢#i imagine a lot of them are like girl why would you want to go BACK to hell??? your dad ABANDONED that place!! 😭😭 0/10 reviews on Yelp!!#also we will Not Address the growing vampiric themes in the fprsq.. 😶 it is not my fault that arkham's little ritual relied so heavily on#blood and i based Many Things off that ritual! 🤧🤧😝#sriracha.txt#fprsq#that is her official tag now ☺️ gioia deserves her own tag after all :]
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partystoragechest · 10 months
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I feel the need to point out (if it wasn't already obvious) that Unwanted absolutely does not take place in whatever version of Thedas Tevinter Nights was set in, because a week to climb to Skyhold is bonkers.
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
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Try Me
Vox x Female!Reader
Summary: You still have a few lessons to learn when it comes to teasing your boss.
Warnings: NSFW (18+), dub-con (kind of) INSPIRED BY THIS POST
Vox deserved a pat on the back for his patience. Truly.
You were relentless, hovering in his periphery, making him tense in anticipation for the next bullshit you were about to pull. First it was lingering touches on his hand when you brought him his coffee. Then it was bending over right in front of him in the conference room, enough for him to glimpse the pretty red and blue thong you were wearing underneath. But really, the cherry on top was the way you "accidentally" tripped on your heels, conveniently falling into him. One manicured hand dragged down his chest, the other down his thigh, right beside his straining cock as profuse, insincere apologies spilled from your lips.
Suffice to say, he was at his fucking limit. His self restraint was impressive, but not infinite.
"Mister Vox, where are we going?" You frowned questioningly as you scurried to keep up with his fast paces.
"A new office just opened up on the next floor," he hummed. "I figured you'd like to take a look at it before deciding if you want it."
"Oh, really? That's great!" You grinned, before it faded into a puzzled look. "But, why didn't you just tell me the room number? Not to pry, but you seem busy today, and I'd hate to distract you from your work."
Vox's smile strained, a low electric buzz emanating from his speakers. "Not to worry, my dear. I'd really rather show you myself."
You blinked innocently. "Well, if you insist."
He sent you a promising grin, but otherwise remained silent.
The walk to the "empty office" dragged on excruciatingly. Even if the whole floor was actually empty, he wanted to keep up with the facade you both were playing at, and not shove you into the first room with a door that he saw (even if he really, really wanted to) .
"Here we are," he announced cheerfully. The room was actually the most expansive one on the floor, completely furnished with a modern work station, a built in gas fireplace, and plush velvet couches. You barely took a step inside, eyes wide with awe, before he grabbed your neck, slamming you against the wall as he kicked the door closed with his foot. It locked automatically.
"Tell me, did you have fun?" He sneered, tightening his grip when you didn't respond immediately.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't—" you winced when he pressed closer, before choking out. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really?" He smirked dangerously, eyes wide and unhinged, before a clawed hand travelled down your waist. The tearing sound of your clothes made you gasp, your torn skirt falling uselessly to the ground as he greedily inspected your underwear. A slender finger hooked under the waistband, before letting it snap back against your skin.
"Red and blue stripes," he snorted. "A coincidence?"
"Fuck you," you spat, but there was an excited glint in your eyes.
"Oh, you will," he chuckled darkly, before grabbing you and roughly forcing you to kneel beside the desk. He took a seat on the office chair, grinning wickedly as he spread his legs leisurely. "But you're going to have to earn it first, doll."
Your mouth watered, hands grasping greedily at his knees, before sliding up to his crotch. Vox groaned when you slid your fingers over the edges of his cock, just barely missing where he really wanted them. You repeated this action a few more times, watching with satisfaction as his brow twitched in mounting frustration, before he finally snapped, grabbing your chin harshly and forcing you to look up at him.
"Fuckin' tease," he growled, baring his teeth. "You're going to regret that." His voice took on a deeper, more electronic tone at the end of his sentence.
"Will I?" You smiled coyly, making his grin widen. Challenge accepted.
In one smooth motion, he unzipped his pants and dragged down his underwear, making his pulsing cock spring up from its confines. Vox grit his teeth when the open air hit it, overly sensitive from your constant teasing.
You stared at it with wide eyes, mouth open as you took in the electric blue lines running up his shaft in a technological design, all leading to the weeping blue tip. Your warm breath puffed on the feverish skin, making him close his eyes in concentration, regulating his breathing.
"Something wrong, sir?" You asked innocently, and he almost busted on the spot from just that title alone. Here you were on your knees for him, and yet he was the one under your control. Oh, the irony.
"Not at all," he growled, fisting a handful of your hair at the back of your head, before shoving you forward onto his cock.
And holy fuck, the way you opened your mouth so obligingly, like you were waiting for this moment—like you'd practiced for it. He had to stab his own leg with his claws to control himself. Coppery blood ran down his skin in small rivulets.
You moaned deeply around his cock, the vibrations making him throw his head back with a gasp. "F-Fuck."
You glanced up at him knowingly, your pretty eyes batting at him as your lips slid up and down his dick. Then you swirled your tongue under his shaft, and wasn't that something. Vox let out a guttural sound that he didn't even know he was capable of, barely able to keep eye contact with you as he guided your head on his cock.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he panted, legs trembling with the effort not to cum. He needed to teach you a lesson, after all, and he couldn't do that with a limp dick.
Then, you did something that made his vision fucking white out. You started to swallow—and good god, he couldn't keep this up anymore.
He shoved you harshly off of his dick, your mouth leaving with a loud pop.
"Brat," he bared his teeth, before clawing violently at your shirt. The thin material didn't stand a chance, fluttering off in shredded ribbons. Then he ripped apart your bra, making your round tits bounce out. His jaw dropped a little as he stared at them, his cock twitching in longing. Fuck, was any part of you not perfect?
"Hey," you protested, glaring at him indignantly. "Those were expensive."
"I'll buy you ten more," he said distractedly, before pulling you up to stand. Your hands gripped the edges of his backrest, tits hovering inches from his face.
"I think it's time we give these," his hands came up to grip them, squeezing them playfully. "A little love, hm?"
To your amazement, a glowing blue tongue poked out of his mouth, curling around a pebbled bud. Your jaw dropped in ecstasy, unable to take your eyes off of the surreal view of Vox licking at your tits, red eyes flickering up to meet your half-lidded ones. You pushed closer in a silent plea for more.
"Ah, ah," Vox retracted his tongue, making you whimper from the loss. "Behave, or this stops now."
You nodded quickly, staring down at him pleadingly.
He let go of your tits, unsatisfied. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes, I'll behave," you whispered desperately.
"Yes, what?" He sneered.
"Yes sir," you cried, moaning loudly when he grabbed a hold of your tits again, tugging you closer.
"Good girl," he grinned wickedly, before his tongue was generously laving over your tits, swirling attentively over your nipples.
"A-Ahhh," you sobbed, struggling to stay still as his hand squeezed and massaged your mounds.
"Thought you could tease me and get away with it? You fucking slut," he growled, harshly sucking a nipple into his mouth. He released it after a few moments, digging his claws into your flesh. "Or maybe, you wanted this to happen," he grinned knowingly, making you shiver. "Oh you did, didn't you?"
He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, "Sweetheart, if you wanted me to split you open on my cock, all you had to do was ask."
Your breath hitched as he grabbed your hips, turning you around and shoving you onto the desk. "Hands above your head." He ordered firmly.
You obediently laid your palms flat on the surface, above your head. Your breath quickened in excitement as you felt his hands grab your ass, squeezing tightly and spreading your cheeks.
"Fuck," you heard him curse, before slender fingers crept between your thighs, rubbing gently. Your legs trembled as he easily slipped in a finger, pumping it a few times before slipping it out again.
Unable to hold back your curiosity, you turned back to look at him, only for your breath to stutter at the sight.
Vox had his eyes closed, long tongue swirling around his middle and index fingers like a lollipop. Your unmistakable slick dripped onto his tongue, and he greedily swallowed it with a contented sigh.
"Fucking delicious," he grinned, leering at your trembling form. "What, too much for you to handle?"
"Try me," you gasped, making his eye widen, electricity sparking from it.
"I'll make you beg for my cock," he laughed dangerously, before disappearing between your legs.
You barely had the chance to process what just happened, before a strangled scream left your lips, your hips shoving further into his mouth.
"Shhh babygirl," he pulled back, squeezing your ass gently. "Wouldn't want someone to hear, now would you?"
"No sir," you bit your lip, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.
"See? This is why you're my favorite," he chuckled, giving your pussy a rough pat. Then he replaced it with his warm tongue, and your eyes rolled back in your head.
He flicked it gently over your clit, pulling back to lather over your dripping hole, before circling back teasingly. You shuddered, tears freely streaming down your face as you moaned softly. A tight pressure was building in your stomach, growing closer and closer to snapping the more attention he showered you in.
"V-Vox," you gasped out. "I—I'm gonna—"
He pulled away abruptly, making you whimper pitifully. Your hips canted towards him desperately, trying to chase your high, but he only moved back.
"What, did you think I was going to let you cum on my face?" He laughed mockingly, digging his claws into your ass. "After what you did today? Not a chance."
He pressed you further into the desk, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Nah, a bitch like you needs to be taught a lesson."
Your mouth fell open as he pushed into you in one smooth motion, the ridges of his cock stretching you out painfully as he settled in deep.
"You're going to learn what happens when you misbehave," he punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust, making you choke. "You should be happy I have so much patience, or I would have fucked you right there on the conference table in front of everyone."
The mental image of him fucking you shamelessly in public made you moan, your hips wiggling further onto his cock. He growled, hands sliding up to hold your wrists down.
And then he started pounding into you. And you screamed.
"What's wrong? That pretty little mouth got nothing to say now?" He panted, gritting his teeth as he closed his eyes. "Where did all of that fight go, hm?"
"F-Fu—ahn—you!"
"Sweetheart, I'm balls deep inside of you right now," he rolled his hips to prove his statement.  "Try again."
"V-Vox, please!" You sobbed, cheek pressing into the surface of the desk.
"Tell me what you need, babygirl," he grinned.
"I-I want to cum," you hiccuped, vision blurring from pleasure.
"Aw, do you? I don't know about that," his grin widened, claws tightening on your wrists. "Do you really deserve it?"
"Please sir," you begged, turning around to look at him tearfully. "Please let me cum on your cock."
His grin faltered at the pleading look in your eyes, his screen tinting red as his teeth clenched. "Fucking brat," he gritted out, before his pace sped up, a clawed hand reaching down to rub tight circles over your clit.
Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as your eyes crossed, his dick splitting you open just like he promised. The coil in your stomach built up once more, stretching tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your vision going white as you shook uncontrollably.
"Vox!" You cried, waves of pleasure cresting in your stomach, intensified by the fact that he was still harshly pounding into you.
Vox's breath hitched at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, screen glitching in euphoria. His thrusts lost their steady rhythm, instead hammering into you erratically as he chased his own orgasm.
Vox's claws dug gouges into the desk as he groaned your name, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside of you. You shivered weakly at the feeling of his thick, warm cum filling you up.
When he'd finally spent everything he had, Vox pulled out of you gently, making you both gasp at the feeling. You heard the sound of a nearby drawer opening, before a wad of Kleenex gently wiped you dry. When both of you were adequately cleaned, warm arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a comforting chest. He sat you both down in the office chair, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head.
"So? Mister Vox," you glanced up at him teasingly. "How was that?"
"Pretty fucking hot, babe," he laughed, squeezing you tightly. "Seriously, great idea. But I'm picking the next one."
"Yeah, yeah," you snuggled deeper into his chest, yawning tiredly. "Do you want to watch a movie when we get back home? I saw this really cool thriller trailer yesterday and I think you'll like it."
Vox smiled gently at you, closing his eyes as he pulled you closer. "Sure doll, anything you want."
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saltburnedme · 4 months
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again
Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)
You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.
‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.
‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.
‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.
You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.
The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.
You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.
‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.
‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?
‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.
‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.
‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.
‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.
‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.
‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.
‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.
Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.
‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.
Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.
Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.
You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.
Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.
‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.
‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.
‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.
‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.
‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.
‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.
‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.
‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.
‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.
Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.
‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.
His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.
‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.
‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.
Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.
‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.
‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.
‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.
‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.
‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.
Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey
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dollfacefantasy · 8 months
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Can't Help It
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pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3
word count: 5.3k
a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3
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When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.
You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.
But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.
You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.
He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.
Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.
The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.
“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.
You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.
Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.
“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.
“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”
He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.” 
Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.
Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.
Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.
But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you. 
It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.
You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.
His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.
At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing. 
His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?
You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.
You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.
Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.
Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.
You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.
Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.
He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.
That was until you started sleeping in his bed.
He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.
He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.
This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.
He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.
The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.
Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.
He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.
He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.
He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.
“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.
It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.
A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.
“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.
You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.
Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.
“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”
The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.
“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.
He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up. 
“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.
Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.
“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.
“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”
You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.
“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.
He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.
“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”
You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.
Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top. 
“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”
“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”
“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.
His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.
Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.
Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.
“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple. 
You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.
His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.
He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”
All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.
“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.
“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”
Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.
You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.
“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.
His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh. 
“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.
“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.
You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.
Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.
“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.
The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.
His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.
“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.
“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,�� he says.
You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.
He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.
He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.
He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.
“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”
“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.
You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.
He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.
“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”
His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.
“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.
You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.
As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.
You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.
You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”
“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.
He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”
You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.
“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”
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ssinboo · 4 months
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Say Yes to me
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summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.
or
During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.
pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader
word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!
warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest
a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!
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Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo. 
You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.
Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit. 
Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether. 
Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead. 
His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.  
They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too. 
Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines. 
But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.
His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.
You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though. 
More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession. 
“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth. 
He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.
“What?”
“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.
“Why would I know that?”
“Can’t you ask your mum?” 
He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”
“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger. 
“The fuck is a birth chart?”
“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”
“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.” 
You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo. 
Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then. 
You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin. 
Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute. 
But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls. 
With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom. 
On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.
At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples. 
The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.
Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.
Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys. 
He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.
“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.
The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff. 
“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?” 
You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic. 
“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”
“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”
“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.
“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.
As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.
“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock. 
“Happy birthday, princess.” 
“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!” 
“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air. 
You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings. 
But you find brand new car keys.
Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.
“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible. 
And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.
You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving. 
“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”
“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.
Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.
And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm. 
You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank. 
He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.
Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.
“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado. 
“Why?”
“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.
You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”
“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.
“Where do I need to put it?”
“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”
“What if I get stuck?” 
“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.
You scoff, “Shut up.”
Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.
“I can’t find it,” You complain.
“Keep trying.”
“I am!”
“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.
You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all. 
“Can’t find it!”
“Right, right— My right.”
“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.
He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.” 
“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place. 
“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles. 
“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up. 
When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles. 
Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘
“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress. 
He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”
“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs.��
He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works. 
You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.
“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.
“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.
You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.
“Okay, then go.” 
Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress. 
He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”
Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.” 
He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart. 
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises. 
“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.
“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”
Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”
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It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him. 
So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.
The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.
“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”
“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”
You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.
“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Tell me what?” You ask.
“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.
Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”
“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.
And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out. 
Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.
“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone. 
Engaged? Engaged!
Engaged…
Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged. 
With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!
You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”
Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort. 
You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that? 
Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.
Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet. 
It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance. 
Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?
Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.
Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!
He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches —  To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics. 
You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.
By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight. 
You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.
By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours. 
Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.
From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.
“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.
“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display. 
“I’m— Well—“
“They’ve told you then—“ 
You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”
Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.
“Oh, please!” You laugh.
Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.
“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.” 
You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong. 
“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”
Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.
“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.” 
You nod. 
Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”
You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again. 
He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves. 
“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.
“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.
“Hey— What’s wrong—?”
“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.
“Are you a crybaby tonight?”
You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.
Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.
It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.” 
He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad. 
He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover. 
You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?” 
Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.
“Fine—!” 
You smile brightly, properly comforted. 
Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile. 
He immediately spots you among the crowd.
You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.
“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug. 
“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.
“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug. 
Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body. 
Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other. 
“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.
“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother. 
“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug. 
Wonwoo shrugs. 
You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.
He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug. 
“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.
Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!” 
“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.
“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.
You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.
Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions. 
That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.” 
“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am  amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”
Everyone laughs.
“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”
You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears. 
“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.” 
He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.
But Wonwoo doesn’t move. 
“Nonu?” You whisper. 
In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.
You and Seokmin exchange glances. 
Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio. 
You stand up and follow him. 
“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels. 
He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.
The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.
“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.
“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!” 
You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.
“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!
“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.
“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue. 
“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished. 
“Then— What will you do?”
“I don’t know!” 
You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder. 
“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“
“What?!” you stand up.
“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.” 
Oh, what a dilemma it was.
Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.
What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.
“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.
As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.
“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.
But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.
“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.
“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”
The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.
Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.
“What the hell happened?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.
“Sorry,” He whispers back.
“He didn’t know!”
“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was. 
“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”
“Shit. What are we gonna do?”
“He wants to run away,” You announce.
Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands. 
“And you’re coming with him?”
“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”
“And where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” 
“And when are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are coming back, right?”
“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.
He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?” 
You nod, pulling him into a hug.
Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.
“Ready?” You call out.
Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand. 
Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door. 
You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head. 
Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer. 
In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.
And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.
The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.
“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.
“Yeah,” He replies.
“Truly?”
“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”
You nod. 
You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.
“We should stop soon and have a rest.”
“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”
“Anywhere.” 
And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living. 
You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way. 
The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.
“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna 
“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”
He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”
Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.
“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.
Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.
“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.
“Wouldn’t bet on it.” 
“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress. 
He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom. 
That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!
“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.
“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”
“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.
He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.” 
You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”
While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off. 
When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too— 
He clears his throat. “I’m back!” 
But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.
“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.
“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.
“Did you find the clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps. 
“Uh— Which one?”
“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.” 
“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours. 
Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.
“Thank youu!” 
He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you. 
You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon. 
Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.
“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.
“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.” 
“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”
“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.
Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.
He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag. 
You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.
By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.
God, he could make a potato sack look good. 
“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long. 
Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”
You laugh.
He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth. 
“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote. 
Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.
“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.
“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”
You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”
“We?” He raises an eyebrow.
You pull away from him.
“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.
“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”
You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”
There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.
“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.
“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.
“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”
You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.
“What the hell?!” 
“What?” 
Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes.  “You have the hots for my sister!”
It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“
“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!” 
“Because she is!”
You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head. 
“What’s wrong with saying that?”
You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”
Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.
“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.
Hook, line and sinker. 
You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips. 
That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso. 
He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.
Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.
“It’s well past midnight… Why?”
You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.” 
Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…” 
“What is it?” 
If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so. 
So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss. 
It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love. 
When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.
But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind. 
You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones. 
Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core. 
Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.
Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory. 
Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager. 
He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth. 
Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to. 
But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.
When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.
 It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.
“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips. 
“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”
Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”
You nod.
He nods. “Wanna do it again?”
You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.
And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him. 
You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue. 
Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise. 
He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.
Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement. 
He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin. 
Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up. 
And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.
All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat. 
Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits. 
Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts. 
He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you. 
Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.
“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own. 
“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.
And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you. 
Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”
You’re surprised, to say the least. 
Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock. 
It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.
But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself. 
When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.
“Keep it on—“ He whispers.
“Why?”
“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.
As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin. 
“Ready?”
You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.  
Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.
Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry.  “We can stop— Let’s stop—“
“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”
So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the  tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong. 
It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out. 
And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger. 
Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock. 
“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”
You breathe out, “Yeah.”
Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you. 
Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member. 
And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?
“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before. 
His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin. 
You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him. 
He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his. 
“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second. 
You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.
He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.
Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there. 
Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.
It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood. 
You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him. 
Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name. 
And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge. 
He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers. 
Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back. 
He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.” 
His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.” 
“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Wonwoo hums. 
“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks. 
It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep. 
And you slept like never before. 
The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.
Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events. 
He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on. 
Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.
“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.
You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”
“I promised I would,” You shrug. 
Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”
“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him. 
Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you.   Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.
While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back. 
“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces. 
Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”
Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips. 
“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most. 
“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“
You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out. 
Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”
“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.
His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”
And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”
You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility. 
Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face. 
“Gather your things and go to the car.”
It’s all he says before he leaves the room. 
The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks. 
Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.” 
And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month. 
Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.
It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks. 
She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words. 
“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says. 
You humph. 
“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”
Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it. 
So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was. 
He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe. 
“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to. 
Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes. 
And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely. 
“Hey,” He greets. 
“Busy?”
“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves. 
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”
It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort. 
“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“
“Yeah— We should.” You nod.
You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you. 
“Go ahead—“
“You first—“
You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh. 
“How about we say it together?” 
“On 3?”
“1”
“2”
“3”
Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart. 
“I want to marry you.”
“I love you.”
“What?!” 
“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.
“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.
“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.
Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.
“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”
“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”
“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“
You choke, “You what?!”
Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”
Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!” 
“For roping you into running away from my party.” 
“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself. 
“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.
“No— I should’ve talked to you.”
Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”
With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most. 
“You love me?”
“Always,” He smiles.
Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.
Gulping, he gathers his courage.
In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.
“Will you marry me?”
And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.
You’ll love him forever. 
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strang3lov3 · 5 months
Text
Pharmacy
Summary: (mall rats 6) Surrounded by medical supplies is a convenient time to slice your hand open. Joel wrestles your stubborn ass to treat your wound, then fucks you how you like.
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Tags: Jar Jar Binks, Star Wars opinions, manhandling, descriptions of injuries (I tried to keep it as short and sweet as I could, bc I myself am a squeamish girl!! I was squirming the whole time writing this!!!) blowjobs, f masturbation, kinda rough unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, reader and Joel have googly eyes for each other
A/N: as always thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. Thank you all for your continued patience with my writing, I am a busy busy lady and you may not get another fic from me for two weeks or more with the whole finals thing, but I do have lots of shit planned! One thing at a time bug one thing at a time. I wish I could write smut for my history of Indiana final essay but I don’t think that would fly with my nun-obsessed professor. Also, thank you @noxturnalpascal and @speckledemerald for hyping me up ❤️❤️
Joel is standing in front of a map of the mall, studying it intently. It’s been a while since you’ve been at the mall with Joel, actually. With the weather getting worse with more and more snow, Tommy is trying to keep travel limited to patrol. Supply runs for necessities only, and Jackson is in need of medical supplies. Rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, first aid supplies. There’s actually a medical building not far from Jackson, but it’s pretty well picked over at this point. 
“Mall has a pharmacy. A CVS or Walgreens, somethin’ like that. I’ll go,” Joel had volunteered in Tommy’s office. 
“I’ll come too,” you added as you were helping Tommy fill out patrol logs.
Joel sighed, “No.” 
“Why not?”
“Supposed to be a quick trip. In and out. Don’t need you gettin’ distracted by lotions and perfumes again.”
“Those are necessities,” you argue, “Besides, buddy system. It’s important for us to stick together.” 
“We are not buddies,” Joel scoffed. Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.
“No? What are we, then?” 
Joel opened his mouth as if to answer with something sharp and argumentative, but no words came out. His cheeks turned rosy as you both shared an odd look, with Joel’s hands frozen on the buttons of his coat. The pencil you wrote with felt heavy in your hand, held awkwardly on the paper as you stared at Joel. You didn’t mean for that question to come out the way it did. What was the answer to the question, anyway? 
Tommy filled the silence with his own answer. “I know what y’all are,” he smirked. 
Joel shot Tommy a warning look, then took your jacket from behind your chair and held it open for you. “Let’s go, then,” he said. You put your arms through the sleeves, zipped yourself up and left. You could hear Tommy chuckling to himself as you walked out with Joel.
You rode horseback to the mall. Still feeling awkward from the interaction at Tommy’s, you both stayed silent, but the ride wasn’t uncomfortable. You hugged Joel tightly, and Joel savored the warmth of your cheek on his back. 
“Found it,” Joel taps the map, “I remember now. It’s downstairs.”
“Ha!” you brag, “I told you. I knew it was downstairs. I was right.” 
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll throw a party when we get home,” Joel replied, taking off towards the dilapidated staircase. You follow close behind, dragging your fingers against the railing, letting your hand tap each of the thin rods that support it. One breaks off and falls with a clatter. Joel doesn’t bother turning around to see what it was. “You break these stairs, you find us a new way out of here,” he warns. Dramatic. You pick up the thin rail and twirl it as you walk behind Joel, then poke his ass with the piece of metal. Already exhausted by you, he sighs, “What’d you find now, trouble?”
“Lightsaber,” you answer. 
“What?” Joel tilts his head and turns around to finally see what all the noise and clattering was. You’re holding one of the thin rods from the railing, still twirling it. “No, put that down,” he tells you, “You’re gonna give yourself tetanus. Put it down, sweetheart.”
“Ellie lent me this DVD. Did you ever see this old movie, Star Wars?”
“Quit while you’re ahead,” Joel grumbles, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Ain’t that old, smartass. And of course I’ve watched Star Wars, who do you think introduced it to her?”
“Oh,” you reply, “Well, there was this character, Jar Jar–”
“Nope,” Joel cuts you off, “You’re done. Lost your talkin’ privileges. Drop your lightsaber and zip it.”
Still twirling the rod you ask, “You don’t like Star Wars?”
“I like Star Wars. What you watched is not Star Wars.”
“Yes it is, Joel. It was on the DVD.” 
Joel turns back around and keeps walking, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Yeah I do. Mesa–”
Joel interrupts, “Do not finish that sentence,” he warns, “God, that movie was so stupid. Took Sarah to see it when it came out, we ended up leavin’ halfway through and gettin’ ice cream instead.” You watch Joel smile at the memory as you approach the pharmacy and he holds the door open for you. You smile with him. Joel doesn’t talk about Sarah much with you, but he mentions her now and then, at least more than he used to.
You and Joel find the first aid aisle of the pharmacy. He knows what to look for, so he peruses the aisles and stuffs his bag full of supplies. Watching him bend over, you can’t help but poke his ass again. “Knock it off, space cadet,” he says, annoyed.
You giggle to yourself and toss the rod aside. You hadn’t realized the end that you were holding was damaged when you broke it off the railing. Fuck. It’s sharp, jagged, and slices your palm all the way across. The rod clangs on the ground and startles Joel. 
Joel turns around to see the rod on the ground, and you clutching your fist tightly. “What’s in your hand?”
“Nothing,” you answer, feeling your hand become warm and wet. 
Joel connects the dots. He bends over and checks the rod for rust and there’s none, thank god. But the end is very jagged, almost serrated like a knife. “Open your hand.”
“No,” pressing your lips together, you lower your gaze and open your fist slightly to check your hand, then quickly shut it. Joel watches your eyes go wide and the color draining from your face. “It’s n–mmm,” you hum, your voice shaky, “I’m fine.” 
“You’re not fine,” Joel reaches for your hand, “You’re hurt. Need to see how deep that cut is, clean it and–”
You shove Joel backward with your free hand, and he looks momentarily taken aback. There was a lot more strength behind that shove than he would have anticipated. You’re not playing, not teasing like usual. “Do you wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice firm.
“Don’t touch me.” 
Joel takes in your expression. You’re not trying to start a fight with him, you look worried, anxious, and defensive with pale lips and trembling hands. You had mentioned not handling blood or pain well before, but he didn’t know you were this squeamish, you poor thing. “I have to, hon.”
“Joel…”
Joel raises a hand in your direction, “Don’t argue with me on this. You need to sit down, I can tell you’re gettin’ freaked.”
“Joel,” you say his name again in a warning tone, much sharper than before. 
“I know,” he says softly, as he steps closer to you, and you step back, your feet hitting the wall behind you. You’re feeling more amped up now. “Just let me look,” as he reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, his grip tightening when you struggle against him and try to pull your arm away. “Quit squrimin’,” he grits his teeth as he fights against your strength. Minding his own strength, and with one hand gripping your wrist, he moves the other to your shoulder and forces you to the ground as gently as he can. A sliced hand is bad enough, he doesn’t need you fainting and cracking your skull open. You kick your legs and punch against him, but he pins his body on top of yours, your free hand between your body and his leg.
“Get the fuck off me, Joel,” you spit, “Get off, get off, get–”
“Hey. Hey,” he says, his voice firm yet gentle, “Breathe, sweetheart. I know you’re nervous.”
You stare at Joel with fiery eyes, breathing heavily through your nose. Shallow breaths, probably not getting enough oxygen to your brain, but at least you’re breathing. Joel gives you a moment to settle down.
“I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, “I don’t know how deep your cut is. I need you to let me look.”
“Please,” you beg, “Please don’t.”
“I’m gonna be gentle,” Joel promises as he flips your wrist up, gently beginning to pry your fingers open, “You look at me. Don’t look at your hand. Just look at me. Will you trust me?” 
Nodding apprehensively, you keep your focus on Joel. He nods in response, then examines your palm. He bites his cheek and frowns. 
“Is it bad?” you ask shakily.
“Uhh,” he hums, “It’s not good,” he answers you honestly. You’re cut in multiple areas and by the looks of it, the gashes go pretty deep. “You might need stitches.”
Fuck that. You squirm under Joel with all of your might to force him off of you. 
“Stop thrashin’. Stop it,” he says, holding your jaw firmly and looking into your eyes, “I’m not gonna stitch ya. We can cross that bridge when we get to Jackson. But you are risking infection. So I’m going to stop the bleeding, wash it, disinfect, then wrap your hand. That’s all.”
He has a tendency to get frustrated with you, and you’re sure he’s beyond frustrated with you right now, but he’s not showing it. He looks sincere, but you’re still on edge and lacking assurance. “Promise?” you whisper.
“I swear,” he assures softly, rubbing your jaw gently with his thumb. When you nod in response, Joel takes his coat off and folds it, then slides it under your head. He needs you as comfortable as you can be. 
“We are gonna have to amputate, though,” he jokes as he pulls out a rag from his bag and presses it into your hand. You give him a dirty look. “Kidding,” he says. 
Joel removes the rag to see if your hand is still bleeding. You catch a glimpse of the cut and the blood in your palm, running down your wrist, “Oh god, my hand, Joel–”
“Don’t look,” he repeats, “Just keep lookin’ at me, sweetheart.”
But you don’t. You can’t seem to peel your eyes away, and you feel lightheaded. Joel notices.
“Tell me somethin’ new,” he says, distracting you from the pain.
“Joel, please,” you whine.
“Somethin’ new,” he reminds you.
“I saw a cat yesterday.”
Joel nods in response. “What color?” he asks.
“Uh, calico,” you reply. He’s reaching into his bag, pulling out his canteen and rinsing your hand out with his water. The cool water feels soothing on your palm. 
“What’s calico?”
“It’s when a cat has three colors, Joel,” you answer impatiently, as if the answer should be glaringly obvious to him. “Fuck,”  you hiss, as he pats the wound dry. The fabric feels irritating and painful against you. 
“Tell me more. Tell me good things.”
Following his instructions, you begin rambling. It’s not hard once you start. “I saw a cat and I kicked Tommy’s ass in a board game and his baby is so cute, by the way. Almost as cute as the cat.”
“You think cats are cuter than babies?”
“Obviously. Babies are gross and they’re noisy and I finished the sweater I was crocheting for Maria and the snow looks pretty and I love you and I…” 
Joel pauses his work on your hand momentarily. He doesn't hear anything else you say after those three words. I love you. It’s a fuzzy sort of quiet, he’s in disbelief. I love you. When your hand twitches, he pulls his focus back to you.
“...And I watched Star Wars.”
“Yeah,” he replies quietly, “You said that already, you said–”
“I did? Oh yeah. I guess I did.”
You’re clearly delirious, in panic mode, and not thinking straight. You don’t remember talking about Star Wars an hour ago, you don’t even realize what just slipped your lips a second ago. Joel smiles to himself. He’s suspected it for a while. He loves you too. But that’s a conversation for later. There’s a more pressing issue at hand, quite literally.
Joel clears his throat and blinks a couple of times. “Uhm,” he hums, thinking of something to say, “And you said you got that movie from Ellie? The Phantom Menace?” 
“Star Wars.”
“Yeah, Star Wars Episode I, The Phantom Menace,” he corrects you. You shrug. “Unbelievable,” Joel says, “Thought I taught that girl better.” He reaches for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and keeps your hand open in his. “Alright, deep breath in and out. This is the worst part, then we’re done.” 
Before you have time to breathe in and out as instructed, before you have time to argue, Joel dumps the alcohol in your palm. You yelp and tug your hand away, but he holds it still.
“I know, I know, I know, baby,” he coos, “Almost done.”
“Joel,” you cry.
“Look, all done,” he whispers as tears off a piece of gauze and lays it over your gash. “See? All done. Just need to wrap it,” Joel prepares more gauze, “Makes sense you’ve identified with Jar Jar, of all characters.” 
“What do you mean?”
Joel begins to wrap the bandage tightly around your hand. “Clumsy,” he murmurs, “Troublemakin’... accident prone.” 
“I don’t think you like Star Wars,” you tell him.
“Not the prequels,” Joel replies, “Only good thing about the outbreak is that they couldn’t finish that godforsaken mess of a trilogy.”
“What do you mean, ‘prequels’?”
“There was an original trilogy that came out before that movie you watched. Ellie didn’t show you them?”, and you shake your head no, “So you don’t know Han Solo or Princess Leia. That means nothin’ to ya?”
“Nope.”
“Jesus Christ. What about C-3PO? R2-D2?”
“Oh, yeah. I know them. They were in that movie.”
“No,” Joel disagrees, then looking baffled for a second before nodding his head as he remembers the hour he spent watching that movie with Sarah years and years ago. “Mm, yeah, you’re right. Guess they were,” Joel concedes, “We’ll have to rectify this, you know. Have a movie night sometime.” 
“Yeah,” you agree, “You can make me popcorn.” 
“I’ll make you popcorn,” Joel says, watching a smile form on your lips. “There it is,” he praises, “Missed that smile. Don’t like seein’ you upset like that,” he murmurs, finishing your bandage wrap and securing it in place. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asks as he presses a kiss to your palm before he lets your hand go. You can still feel the warmth of his touch on your skin as he watches you and your cheeks begin to warm.
“I know what you’re gonna do with me,” you whisper. 
I’m gonna kiss you, and I’ll tell you that I love you too. That’s what I’m gonna do with you, Joel thinks, his heart beginning to race.
“Tell me, sweetheart.” 
“You’re gonna listen to my Jar Jar impression.”
Joel sighs. He watches you with adoration, and he wants nothing more than to express that adoration for you. It’ll happen when it happens. He decides to let it go for now and play along with you instead, however you want to. You deserve it, after all. He’ll put up a facade like you drive him crazy and he’ll let you believe you’re really getting under his skin, just to watch you smile and hear you laugh like you really got him this time. And he’ll tease you back, at least once more. 
“Please spare me until I lose my hearing in my other ear.” 
You oblige, smiling and rolling your eyes. Still holding eye contact with Joel, you become acutely aware of the position you’re in, that all too familiar position. Faces close, bodies closer and staring into his sparkly, warm brown eyes with his weight pressing into you. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, the way he took care of you, who knows. Out of the blue, you’re turned on and Joel knows. Joel cocks an eyebrow when your breath hitches, when you bite your lip and begin to squirm underneath him, seemingly now uncomfortable, aroused no doubt. “Time and place, hon,” he smirks smugly.
Heat rises up your neck and your cheeks at his accusation, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Yeah, you do. I know how you operate,” he asserts. “What’s got ya all worked up all of a sudden?” Joel asks, his hand caressing your cheek, your jaw.
“Nothing,” you lie. Your skin burns where his fingers trace.
“I think you’re lyin’. I know you like when I get rough with ya, just wasn’t expectin’ ya to like it now of all times, when I had to wrestle you down to fix that gash in your hand,” Joel taunts, “You’re very stubborn sometimes, you know that?” 
“Challenging,” you counter his claim, “And I wasn’t being stubborn. I could have taken care of my hand myself. I didn’t really need your help.”
Joel knows that’s a lie. You did, in fact, need his help. Badly. 
“That right there is stubborn.”
“No,” you argue, “And I’m not worked up right now, either.” Joel makes an amused face at you, and you wince internally. 
Shit. You fucked that up. Overcompensated.
“Right. Course not.” 
Against your better judgment, you open your mouth to argue further but Joel hushes you. “What do I get if you’re wet right now, sweetheart?” he whispers, unbuttoning your jeans. Your tummy flutters with desire as his fingertips skate across your skin. “You’re more than welcome to stop me right now,” he purrs. He’s giving you an out, a moment to make a choice, but you don’t dare stop him. And Joel grins. He snakes his hand down your pants, underneath your thin cotton panties. The anticipation builds with the tickle of his fingers lightly dragging over your mound, his middle and ring fingers tracing over your lips. You gasp quietly when he dips his fingers at your core, his fingertips collecting your arousal. You stifle a whine as he pulls his hand away from your body, showing you his two fingers glistening with your slick. Joel clicks his tongue, “Can’t be comfortable,” he murmurs, his tone sarcastic and sympathetic all at the same time. “This all for me?”
“No,” you breathe shakily. Yes. 
“You’re lyin’ to me,” he mumbles, bringing his two fingers to his lips. His mouth makes obscene noises as he sucks them clean of your arousal, humming at the sweet taste. Before you can think, he’s pulling your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, his fingers finding their place back at your pussy. “You could tell me the truth and I’d go easy on ya,” he offers, his thumb pressing against your clit.
You love the thrill, that feeling in your stomach. Joel gives you a moment to answer, but you don’t. “No?”  he asks before situating himself on the ground with you, backing himself against a wall and pulling you into his lap. “Gonna make it worse for yourself,” he says, spreading your legs apart and hiking up your shirt, one hand playing with your pussy and the other kneading your breasts, teasing your nipples, “Why don’t you tell me how much ya needed this, hm? How you want me to make it all better.”
You sigh, a soft Joel falling from your lips as you become wetter, more sensitive as Joel’s fingers dance through your slick folds. He pushes two fingers inside you, fingers curling into that spot that he so loves. His thumb rubs tight, steady circles around your clit and he flicks the thumb of his other hand across your sensitive nipples, the combination of actions filling you with a deep, hot pleasure. You rest your head on his shoulder, the scratchy hairs on his cheek pressing against your forehead. You reach behind yourself to touch him, tangling your fingers in his curls.
“We’ll do this the hard way, then,” Joel shoves you forward, careful not to use too much of his strength but enough to let you know that he’s in charge. He’s always in charge. He takes his folded coat from the ground and positions it in front of himself. He stands up tall, knees popping as he rises. “Since you have nothin’ better to do with your mouth than tellin’ lies…”  Joel snaps and points to his coat, “Might as well keep you quiet instead. Down,” he instructs, “On your knees. Do it now.”
“Yes, Joel,” as you assume the position.
“Ah, now she speaks,” he taunts, the quiet metallic clang of him undoing his belt buckle sending excitement shooting through you. “Open,” is his next command, “Nice n’ wide, hon, you know how,” he instructs as he pulls out his cock, hard and with a pearly bead of precum glistening on his head. You open your mouth for Joel, eyes wide and Joel taps his member on your tongue. “Keep ya from doin’ that stupid fuckin’ impression, too.”
Your eyes light up as you think of something quippy to say, but Joel slides his cock into your mouth to keep you from doing so. “Ah-ah,” he tuts, “Quiet.” He’s delicious, masculine, heady, and intense. He fills your mouth entirely and you swirl your tongue around him, tracing thick veins and salty skin. “Attagirl,” Joel praises you, gripping the back of your head and pushing himself further into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you, “Right there.”
He pushes you further than you’re used to, but not to the point of discomfort. His tummy nudges your forehead as your nose presses against dark curls at the base of his dick and you use your hand to cup his balls. As you hum against him, you wonder if Joel intends for this to be a punishment. His tone and the way he conducts himself is commanding, but the way he fucks your mouth is gentle. 
“Still not worked up, right? Don’t need me?”, he asks, staring down at you with raised eyebrows. You shake your head no, lying again. “Okay,” he says, “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on your fingers. But don’t come. Not until you tell me what I wanna hear.” 
Your eyes flutter shut as you bring your fingers to your core, feeling your arousal. You push two fingers into your dripping pussy, pumping them in and out and trying to mimic the way it feels when Joel does it.
As you fuck yourself, you hollow your cheeks around his thick cock, letting him feel every inch of your soft and wet mouth. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your cheek is gentle, caressing your skin softly. He looks down at you through hooded lids and as your eyes flutter shut, you wonder what he’s thinking. 
The way you’re touching your pussy hardly counts as fucking yourself, it’s teasing at best, and excruciating at that. You rub circles around your clit steadily, subtly, needing more than what he’s told you to give yourself. With your fingers working your clit and your mouth working Joel, the familiar pleasure of your climax is just within reach. Feeling yourself reaching your peak, you look up at Joel, “What are you doin’?”, he asks, like he’s caught you doing something you shouldn’t be.
You pull your mouth off of his cock to whisper, “Please, Joel,” which garners an irritated look from him. Joel bends lower to grab you by your bicep and force you to your feet, spinning you around and bending you over an empty shelf of an end cap. He parts your legs and drags his cock through your folds with one hand, the other gripping your hip. 
“Need those magic words, sweetheart. Say it, ‘I need you, Joel’. Go on, now. You got it.”
With the leftover feeling of your ruined orgasm and Joel’s cock teasing your pussy, you fold immediately. “I need you, Joel,” you breathe, “I need you.” 
“Tell me more. How do you need me?” as he continues to tease. 
“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp, “Please.”
“Need me to fuck ya,” he repeats, amused. Joel notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, “How ‘bout that. Tell me somethin’ I didn’t know.” 
It’s a rhetorical question. He doesn’t give you time to answer before he buries himself inside of you. You groan at the sudden intrusion, how deeply he enters you and how full you feel. 
He doesn’t need to experiment with you, doesn’t need to vary how he fucks you. You grip the edge of the end cap with both hands as he finds his pace immediately. His cock hits you right where you need him. 
“Hey, hey,” he whispers, reaching for your bandaged hand, “Don’t hold that. S’gonna hurt your hand. Hold mine instead,” as he wraps his palm around yours. “Better?”
“Better.”
You’re lost in it all, his hand holding yours tightly and his thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. His face is right next to yours, his nose buried in your hair as he nips at your ear. 
“Fuck,” he grunts as he fucks you. He moans softly, his breath feels warm. Each thrust feels deep and intentional. “Good girl. Takin’ my cock so good.”
“Yes, Joel,” you moan. 
He makes stuttering, strangled sort of noises. His breathing is sharp and unsteady through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture him perfectly, his messy salt and pepper curls and that deep set line between his brows. 
He fucks you hard and rough, both of you panting and moaning. Soon enough, his rhythm becomes frenetic and stuttering. “Squ– fuck, squeezin’ me too good, I’m not gonna last, sweetheart.”
“Let me come, Joel,” you plead, “Please.”
“I know, I know. Don’t need to beg me, darlin’,” Joel coos. He snakes his hand between your thighs and quickly finds your clit, his thrusts still steady and deep. He expertly paints circles around your clit as he becomes sloppier and frenzied. 
“Oh god, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls begin to clench and squeeze him, “Right there, right there, fuck.”
“Yeah, s’it, let go for me,” he pants. 
With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud gasp, gripping his hand hard. Even after he helps you ride out your orgasm, he doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. You bite your lip to stifle yourself as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting your insides with his seed.
You catch your breath with Joel as he begins to go soft inside you. You feel empty when he pulls out of you, craving the weight of his hand on yours after he lets go. As your breathing slows, turn around to face Joel. His dominant, taunting demeanor is gone and he helps you back into your clothes, then examines the bandage on your hand. He frowns when he sees he’s crumpled it and dampened it with his sweat. “Hang on,” he murmurs, quickly reaching for more gauze to rewrap it. 
You touch his shoulder, “Just– let’s wrap it again at home. It’s just gonna get ruined again.”
“No, I promise I’m not gonna clean it again, I just wanna–” Joel stops talking when you reach for his hand. He looks at where his hand connects with yours, then looks at you. “Okay,” he says. He stares at you intently, as if waiting for you to say more. You look like you want to.
Hand in Joel’s, you walk together out of the mall. The horseback ride home is quiet. You hug Joel tightly, and Joel savors the warmth of your cheek on his back again.
“Joel?” you ask. 
“Yeah, hon.”
“You’re sure you don’t wanna hear my impression?”
“I’m sure,” Joel says, but you can hear the smile in his voice. 
as always, i appreciate all of my readers. please please please leave a comment/reblog/send an ask if you enjoyed, your comments really do mean the world and keep me going <3
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milkteahood · 1 month
Text
texas heat
Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader
Warning: smut! minors dni!!!
Summary: basically a smut with a plot
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Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?
You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.
***
“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.
“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.
“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.
At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.
You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.
“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”
“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.
“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”
A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.
Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.
***
Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.
Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.
***
“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.
“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.
“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.
“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”
Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”
The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.
***
The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.
“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.
***
“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.
As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.
“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.
“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.
“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.
And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.
***
The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.
You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.
What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.
Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.
You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?
Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.
After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.
In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.
“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.
“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.
You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.
This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.
You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.
“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.
Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.
“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.
“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.
Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.
You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.
Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.
“Tommy?”
He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.
“I really like you, Thomas”
His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.
He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.
After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.
“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”
He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.
“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.
He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.
“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.
Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.
Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.
He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.
“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.
He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.
You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.
As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.
Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.
He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.
His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.
“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.
Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.
You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.
He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
Note
🫶🫶🫶
Hi hello
Nnta. Non cannon
Pretty little wife and carlos marriage is just for convenience
One day carlos either gets sent a video or gets tied down in a chair
He has to now watch his pretty little wife getting fucked by both oscar and max 👹🫶
Them both raking turns to fuck her but whilst the other is fucking her, the other is taking her mouth 👹
🫶🫶🫶
Anything for you, my love 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
Warnings: Threesome, spitroasting mentioned, voyeurism, nipple sucking, masturbation, blow job, cum swallowing, use of good girl, cumming inside
Series Masterlist
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Y/N and Oscar had been fucking since before she married Carlos. He knew all about it, he just didn't care. It was a marriage of convenience and she could do what she liked, as long as it didn't embarrass him.
This, though, this was definitely going to embarrass him.
Carlos sat at his desk, his cock free as he watched the video sent by Oscar.
Carlos hadn't seem Y/N in some time. He'd filled his days with whores and whoever threw themselves at him while Y/N was in the Netherlands with the Verstappens, spending some time with her friend Max.
It seemed Max was a lot closer than Carlos realised. He pumped his fist up and down his cock as he looked at the image of his pretty little wife being spitroasted by Oscar and Max. He hasn't even pressed play on the video yet, and already he was panting as he touched himself.
His shaky finger pressed play on the button.
The video started from the beginning, of Y/N in her underwear as Oscar kissed her shoulder, unclaimed her bra, and Max moved away from the camera.
Oscar pulled it down her arms and pulled her into his arms. He continued to kiss her as Max got behind them, just in the way of the camera as he slipped his hand into her underwear and squeezed her ass cheeks.
What Carlos couldn't see from the video was the silent conversation of dominance Max and Oscar were having. Oscar was adamant that he should hold all of the power, and Max was somewhat reluctant to give it over.
But he did and Oscar pulled her away from Max. He laid her down onto the bed and hovered his body over hers, attaching his lips to her nipple as one hand travelled down her to underwear.
His fingers slipped beneath the fabric and she whined and moaned against him. Max was visible to the side of him, fisting his cock to the scene of her wriggling about on the bed.
Oscar touched her. He ran his fingers through her folds, but his touch was light. Y/N moaned, throwing her head back as he touched her in the way he knew she liked, drawing figures of eight on her clit, getting her wetter and wetter.
When she was ready, Oscar inserted one finger inside of her. He looked up at her as he slowly thrusted his finger in and out of her, watching as she called Max closer.
Max let go of himself and walked closer. When she touched him, he threw his head back, allowing her to put her lips around his cock. She sucked, slowly at first, but speeding up when Oscar worked her faster.
Suddenly he released her nipple from between her lips. He pulled his fingers away and sat up, pulling Y/N up with him.
Somehow Oscar positioned her perfectly in front of the camera. She was on her hands and knees, Oscar behind her and Max in front of her.
Max pushed forward first, pushing his cock between her lips. She held him there, moaning around his length as Oscar pushed into her.
They moved slowly at first, Oscar controlling the pace. Max was still and Oscar was holding her hips, pushing her forward onto Max's cock and pulling her back onto his own. "Fuck," Max growled as she hollowed her cheeks.
They were a mess of sweaty bodies and moans. Oscar's grip was sure to leave bruising on her skin as he pulled her back into him, spearing her with his cock. He threw his head back, letting out grunts groans and moans as he went.
Y/N allowed herself to be pulled around on their dicks. She moaned around Max's dick, shutting her eyes when he placed his hand on her head, lacing his fingers through her hair.
"Fuck, holy fuck!" He cried, his eyes squeezed shut.
Max was the first to cum. He held her there, keeping her mouth around him as he came. "That's it, swallow," he said as she looked into his eyes.
Y/N pulled off of him, her mouth full of cum. She swallowed and stuck out her tongue, proving to him that it was all gone.
As soon as she was finished, Oscar started thrusting again, his hips snapping against her ass. He reached around, touching her clit, bringing her closer to the edge.
She was squeezing him, clenching around him. It was almost sending Oscar over, but he refused to cum before she did.
He was slowing down, but he held on. Y/N finally came, letting out a cry as she tensed up and fell forward on the bed.
As soon as she came around him, Oscar let go. He let his seed flood her wall, fill her before he slumped forward against her.
Recovering quickly, Oscar pulled out of her. He turned her towards the camera and pulled her folds apart revealing the mess he had made inside of her. "Say hello to your husband," he said, helping Y/N to her feet.
On shaky legs, she walked over to the camera and waved. "Hi Carlos," she said and blew him a kiss.
The video ended after that and Carlos let out a pant. He'd made a mess on his pants, but he didn't care.
Holy fuck.
Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @hiireadstuff @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal
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seph-ic · 1 year
Text
My favorite thing ever?
Nico has a service dog 
Because after Mr. D diagnoses him with PTSD he feels kind of hopeless and overwhelmed (especially after her hears that it can’t be easily fixed with magic or anything) 
So Mr D. Suggests that he get a service animal. 
Nico argues that animals hate him because he ‘smells like death’. Mr. D Points out that Mrs O’Leary doesn’t hate him. 
They both go talk to Hades who jumps at the excuse to win back his son by buying him more stuff. 
The dog ends up being a hellhound mix (don’t ask how.) 
The mix is mostly so she is a bit smaller for convenience (so she can fit in places.)
I'd assume she looks something like a Burmese mountain dog mix.
Her names Penelope (Penny) and Nico loves her. 
Nico and Her spend a couple of months doing service dog training with Artemis and the hunters (dogs are one of her patron animals.)
the time he spends with them also gives him a bit of closure and helps him process what happened to his sister.
soon enough she's graduated their honorary service dog school and is fully trained.
She goes with Nico everywhere. Since she is half hellhound she can assist with shadow travel and make it easier for Nico. (To Wills relief) 
She helps Nico with panic attacks and nightmares. 
She grabs things for him (KitKats, sword, water, pillows.) 
she can even open the fridge in the big house.
If Nico is having a really bad episode or a flashback he can’t come out of or if he’s in any physical danger, she knows to go get Will Chiron or MR D. In a heartbeat. 
Again a shadow traveling dog being useful.
Will makes extra sure that everyone at camp is aware of how service animals work. 
He teaches all the campers about what Penny's job is and why they’re not allowed to distract her.
On occasion when she isn't working she'll play fetch or get pets from some of the kids. 
All Nicos freind's and family love her.
Like everyone wants to be a part of this dogs life, Nico has literally never been more popular.
Hazel buys her a sweater for the holidays.
Rachel helps Nico also dye part of her tail at one point (to keep her identifiable) and they give it a cool design.
Annabeth asks if she can make her a cool dog house.
Piper insists that they take her to the groomer and buys her little bandannas.
Percy helps Nico teach her how to swim.
She will also grabs medical supplies for Will sometimes.
Grover also knows how to talk to her and regularly lets her know how Nico is doing (not that she doesn't already know.) 
Nico finds it easier to eat with Penelope.
It kind of forces him to eat on a schedule, since Penny has to be fed three times a day and the two of them can eat at the same time.
Nico also gives her little scraps off his plate sometimes which makes them both happy.
She gets absolutely spoiled. 
At one point Nico gets worried that she might get hurt fighting a monster. Hades assured him she won’t but Leo makes her some extra cool dog armor just in case
She also has a little bag attached to her vest for carrying supplies on quests and long journeys. (list of things these bags might contain: Ambrosia, Dog treats, Water/kitkats, extra weapons, drachmas.)
Nico connects so well with this fucking dog.
Like he always struggled with people and he never really even considered being an animal person.
But he absolutely adores Penny.
He talks to her about things that worry him and just finds her presence so unbelievably comforting.
Will solace (who I think personally would become a vet sooner than a doctor) Has this dog on the best fucking diet you could imagine
you have never seen a more medically healthy dog.
And she ADORES Will
Partially because of how calmer Nico is with him, and partially because he keeps a treat jar in the infirmary now.
The best part! she cannot die (from old age at least) Immortal service dog!
Having a huge fluffy head is great for pressure therapy.
Nico (neurodivergent) likes the texture of her fur and stims by petting her or playing with her ears.
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Text
It's all timing - S.R.
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Spencer Reid x fem!reader smut, no use of y/n
Spencer's return from a case just so happens to coincide with the part of your cycle that has you feeling a certain type of way, which Spencer is only too happy to help with.
Warnings: fluffy smut, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, a smidge of breeding, d/s a little if you squint
~
It's hard to say that Spencer traveling for work was ever convenient, but every once in a while the timing lines up nicely. Like tonight, he's on his way back from a case and you are, to put it crudely, horny as shit. It's not normal horny, either, this is ovulation horny, the kind that leaves you aching all day, overwhelming your already frayed system.
So when you get the text that he's on his way from the airport, you waste no time stripping naked and arranging yourself in the big armchair that faces the door. And then you wait, the clocks ticking taunting you, each second reminding you of his absence.
Finally, the clinking of keys at the door alerts you to your boyfriend's return, the thought of who only rekindling the low burning in your belly. You swallow as the door swings open, adjusting your position slightly to best present yourself to the entryway.
"Baby! I'm h-" Spencer's voice seems to stick in his throat when he sees you, "-ome." He finishes the word slowly, setting his go bag down and closing the door but never moving his gaze from your form. Even in the shadows you watch his eyes rake down your body slowly.
"Welcome home." Your sultry voice draws his eyes back to yours in an instant, the intense gaze softening with a smile shared between you.
"That is quite a welcome." Crossing the room, he kneels slowly in front of you, one of his big, warm hands sliding up the back of your calf as he leans in to catch your lips with his. It's one of those kisses that melts your core, warming your bones and drawing a happy sigh from your chest.
"What did I do to deserve a welcome like this?" He speaks softly as he pulls away, sitting back on his heels as his other hand smooths up the side of your thigh, his touch firm but reverent. You can't help the smile that rises on your face looking down at your love, those soft eyes of his glowing back at you, messy curls falling in his eyes that you gently sweep away. His eyes flutter when you cup his cheek in your palm.
"Being you, mostly." You run the pad of your thumb across his bottom lip, not missing how his breath hitches. "But impeccable timing helps." His head cocks questioningly at you, a line forming where his brows knit together. "You know how I get this time of month." You finish with a devilish little smirk as he finally understands. An eager grin splits his face, his eyes absolutely lighting up.
"Oh!" His hands move immediately, uncrossing your legs and pushing them apart, his grip now anchored in your soft thighs as he surges forward to kiss you excitedly. His excitement and the slight manhandling only add to the quickly forming puddle between your thighs, causing you to whine into his kiss.
As if he read your mind, Spencer broke away from your lips, kissing and biting his way quickly down your body. Excitement clearly outweighed romance tonight, made even more eveident when Spencer, with neither ceremony or hesitation, dove into your pussy like it was the fountain of youth. He'd always eaten pussy like god, but this is even a step beyond that, you didn't even care what he was doing that much, your hormone-flooded brain only barely able to process the sheer pleasure burning through your veins.
"Oh fuck!" You can't help the words falling from your lips as your hands fly to his hair, gripping desperately in a way that must have hurt as your body arches and writhes under him. His hands, large and strong and so warm, run once again up your thighs, gripping your hips almost hard enough to bruise. You can hear him devouring you, wet, lewd sounds interspersed with low grunts of effort that border on animalistic.
It's all so so good, but you still need more, that burning ache in your belly only satiable by one thing.
"Spencer," you manage, your voice cracking on his name "More, please please I need more." He hears you, taking one last harsh suckle at your clit that makes your whole body shudder at the sting before sitting up, his mouth leaving you with a wet pop.
"More? What more do you need, baby?" You just whine, bucking your hips weakly as you throw your head back. Spencer tsks,
"Come on, sweet girl," he plants a kiss on your swollen clit, making you twitch, "you gotta tell me what you want."
"I want your cock," it's like a damn breaks, and suddenly you're begging, clawing at his shoulders with tears pricking your eyes, "I want your cock please, Spencer, please! I wanna be so full of you and your cum and your babies oh god-" you don't get any further before his lips crash against yours, his hands hauling you out of the chair and into his arms. In a matter of seconds you're on your back on the bed, Spencer's lips still hot and demanding against yours, the taste of yourself heady on his tongue as it slides against yours. He breaks from you for only a second or two, definitely ripping something in his haste to rid himself of his clothes.
There were no words, you didn't need them as he pushed into your waiting warmth, his forehead falling to rest against yours as you take him to the hilt, choking on a gasp as he hits that spot thats just so deep and it hurts just a little but it's too good for you to care.
You've always been able to find a rhythm together, fitting against each other just right as he rocks into you, singing your praises in soft grunts and low moans, drawing you ever closer to the edge, begging you to cum for him in every bite, every loving touch, every breath.
You give in to him as he loses himself, the warm ache of his cum spilling into you taking you that last step over the peak and you tumble down the other side. You come apart in the safety of his arms, crumbling and shaking under him as he answers your cries with soft kisses and words of praise mumbled against sweaty skin.
You're glass in his hands as he turns you gently, rolling into his back and bringing your body to lay on top of his. He hasn't pulled out, his cock twitching slightly at the way you squeeze him, still riding the last few shocks of your orgasm.
Your body feels so heavy, so relaxed as you cuddle into his chest, deliciously full and sleepy.
Before sleep takes you, you manage something that sounds like "I love you."
And in that last hazy moment before you drift off, you hear him say it back.
"I love you."
~taglist~
@nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @f-me-reid @spencer-reid-wonderland @dungeons-are-too-cold
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bratzforchris · 15 days
Text
Model Baby, M. Sturniolo
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Summary: In which a modeling campaign Matt's in turns into something far more
Pairing: Model!Matt x feminine photographer!reader
Warnings: Smut, sub!Matt, softdom!reader, non established relationship, p in v, cowgirl, sextape, grinding, making out, hand job, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), slight degradation/teasing, Matt lowkey has a praise kink (i think that's all but lmk if i missed anything!)
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: I think I speak for all of us when I say Matt's Prada photoshoot fucked with our heads!! Anyway, enjoy some sub!Matt 😋
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You sighed as you stepped off the elevator, lugging your bags of camera equipment behind you. Despite having the machine at your convenience, you really hated how the shoot was assigned to take place in the penthouse suite of this Hawaiian resort in the middle of July. Gorgeous? Yes. Good for not sweating? No. You pulled your bags along to the door, quickly swiping the key the resort had given you and entering the room. It was still beyond crazy to you that you were getting to shoot a Calvin Klein ad for such a famed model, and your heart raced with anticipation at the thought of how big of an opportunity this was. 
Inside the enormous suite, lighting and set employees bustled around, angling everything just so around the set. The enormous, California king sized bed that was backed up to a window that looked out into the deep blue of the Pacific ocean would serve as the main backdrop for the shoot, but that wasn’t even the most gorgeous part of the room, at least in your opinion. Your model for today sat in a folding chair in the corner of the room, sipping on a hot coffee while he got his makeup done. 
“Hi! Are you Matt?” You asked him, setting your camera bags down next to his chair. 
The boy looked up at you as an artist waved a brush of powder across his nose. His blue eyes were wide as he smiled up at you, a soft blush dotting his cheeks. “That’s me.”
“I’m gonna be your photographer today.” You introduced yourself by name, sticking out your hand with a warm smile. 
Matt stared at you with wide eyes as you shook hands, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes traveled from his veiny hand up towards his sleeve of tattoos. The silver rings that decorated his knuckles were cold against your warm skin, making you tell yourself that the blush you felt creeping through your body was due to the tropical heat. You went on to thoroughly explain what all today’s shoot would entail, noticing the way Matt kept his eyes trained on you the entire time, looking at you in some way that could only be described as awe. 
As you finished your spiel, Matt stood up and stretched, chucking his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can. The brunette’s hoodie rode up with his movement, the tanned skin of his soft tummy and V-line catching your eye. You shook your head reminding yourself that this shoot was for work and not for you to thirst over the model. You could do that once the ad campaign came out. 
“I’m gonna get changed,” Matt said, nodding towards the bathroom. “Thanks for your time. I really appreciate it.” 
Once again, you noticed the pink hue that had made its home on Matt’s cheeks as he scurried off to the  bathroom. Maybe you were misreading the situation, but part of you wondered if he felt the same way about you. He was different from most of the clients you had been assigned in the past; where they saw you as “just a worker”, Matt had talked to you like he genuinely wanted to get to know you and collaborate on the project. You swiftly set up all of your camera equipment, drumming your fingers on the plastic as you waited for your model. 
The bathroom door swung open, and you whipped your head around to see Matt being shuffled out by his assistant. The woman appeared rather frazzled, rattling notes about poses and such to the soft boy, who listened intently, paying close attention to how she was speaking to him, just the way he had with you. That wasn’t what caught your eye, though. Your eyes trailed downward from Matt’s face to the tight, gray, Calvin Klein boxers that hugged his hips. It was going to be a simple shoot, Matt’s body, the boxers, and the silver horse necklace he wore speaking for themselves, but you felt your lower stomach clench at the thought of that beautiful boy looking up at you with those blue doe eyes. 
“I’m ready whenever you are.” Matt smiled, arm brushing yours as he climbed onto the bed. 
If anyone else in the room noticed the energy between you two, they didn’t mention it. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself so that you could focus on getting the perfect shots and not on the way Matt’s feathery, brown curls fanned around his face. 
“Okay, if you could just turn a little to the left…right there..perfect! Great job!” As you fell into the usual groove of your work, everything else melted away, allowing you to focus on your camera and the boy in front of you. 
Matt was the best subject you could have ever asked for, easily following your directions with an eagerness about him. “Like this?” he joked cutely, jutting out his bottom lip and placing his chin in his hands as he propped himself up on the bed. “It’s what you asked me to do.” he smiled, staring up at your camera.
“Just like that,” You joked, taking on a playful air. “Good boy.” You laughed. 
Matt’s cheeks heated up to a color that was beyond red, making him awkwardly shift and shuffle the sheets on the bed. You continued to snap photos, thinking the flustered look that had occupied his face was a welcome change to the ‘tough guy’ theme for the shoot. 
“You are doing so well. Beautiful!” You praised as you took an especially gorgeous photo of him on his knees, arms crossed over his chest. 
The shoot continued like this for some time, with you flirtatiously throwing little praises and phrases of affection Matt’s way and him blushing and offering soft smiles until the director of the shoot finally stood up, quickly stating that everything had been fulfilled. Everyone packed up and hurried out of the suite just as quickly as they had entered. You had barely packed up your ring light before realizing that everyone else had vacated the room, leaving just you and Matt, who was still in the gray boxers, scrolling through his phone. 
“So...have you been modeling for a long time?” You asked the brunette, eager to make conversation that would distract you from his body and how it made the heat pool between your thighs. 
“Um, not really,” Matt blushed and set aside his device, ears going red as he spoke. “About a year, maybe? I’m more into YouTube.”
“I remember reading about that when I got this job. So, I take it you like cameras, Matt?” You asked flirtatiously, a smirk tugging at your lips. 
“Oh, um,” the brunette looked up at you from his position on the bed, dark lashes sweeping across his face. “For the right people, yeah.”
“I noticed you like being called a good boy, too.” You teased gently, your nipples beginning to harden as you watched Matt grow red with your realization, awkwardly shifting as a gentle moan escaped his plump, heart-shaped lips. 
“Y-yeah…” he whispered, beginning to smile himself. “I do. How did you know?”
“Oh Matt,” You cooed, pressing record on your camera and then making your way around the bed, sitting next to him and caressing his stubble-covered cheek. “You models are all the same. Just wanna be told how pretty you look following directions.”
The boy let out another moan, this one louder than before, pressing his cheek into your hand as he began to grind against the sheets softly, trying to conceal his growing erection. Your words were getting to him faster than he cared to admit, making him want to do whatever it would take for you to continue praising him and speaking to him in that teasing, yet loving voice. “Mhm…” he whined softly. 
“What if I told you that camera was recording right now?” You asked him, kissing his soft lips. “Would you still let me call you a pretty boy?” 
Matt whimpered, grinding his Calvin Klein covered dick faster against the bed. “Please. Do that again. I…” he panted into the kiss, his hormones already taking over. 
You used his moan for leverage, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Matt tasted like coffee and a hint of cinnamon and vanilla, yet you couldn’t get enough. You began to get sloppy, your tongue fighting his for dominance as you made out, tangling your fingers into the soft, feathery curls at the nape of his neck. You wanted to steal every last bit of that ‘tough guy’ façade and watch it crumble beneath your touch as you praised him. 
“You gonna be a good boy and use your mouth for what it's made for?” You asked him, pulling apart from the kiss, leaving a trail of salvia between you two as you wiped his bottom lip with your thumb. 
Matt nodded eagerly, already kneeling like this had been your routine for years now, despite only knowing each other for two hours. “Let me make you feel good.” he pouted, tugging at the waistband of your leggings. 
You gently pushed his hand away, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Knees.”
Matt did as told, propping himself on his knees, chin in his hands, as he watched you slide your leggings, shirt and bra, and thong off. Your thighs were already slick with your juices, your lower stomach tightening with arousal as you watched Matt giggle cutely, his big, blue eyes going wide at the sight of you already dripping. You ran your hand through his silky hair, enjoying the way he was practically feigning for your touch.
The immense amount of pillows on the bed served you well, allowing you to prop yourself up so that you were the perfect height for Matt to eat you out on his knees. “Go on,” You told the boy, kissing his forehead softly. “Show the camera how good you eat pussy, baby.”
Matt didn’t need to be told twice. Still on his knees, the brunette lowered his head, licking the soft, plush skin of your thighs before moving to your folds. As you craned your neck, the sight of his gentle tongue lapping up your arousal made you want to praise him, promising him he was doing an excellent job. As he ran his tongue from your dripping hole up to your clit, flicking the sensitive little bud, you hissed, feeling the need to climax begin to build in your body. 
“Feels so good, Matt,” You panted, rutting your hips forward to meet his mouth as the brunette pushed your thighs closer towards his head. “You’re doing so well.”
Spurred on by the praise, Matt began flick your clit in dizzying circles with his tongue as you whimpered and whined, back arching off the sheets. It was obscene; the sight of him on his knees, lapping you up like you were the last meal on earth, while you moaned and writhed, neither of you caring that a camera was actively filming all of this. Broken praises fell from your lips as Matt moaned into your pussy, mumbling things about how good you tasted while his freckled nose applied pressure to your clit. 
“Doing so well, baby,” You cried, gripping the sheets as your climax began to overtake you. “‘M gonna cum.”
Without another word, you let go, your orgasm leaving you shaking as you came on Matt’s face. Once you had come down from the high, you looked to see your boy lift his head, still on his knees. Your arousal dripped from his mouth and chin, and even his eyelashes, which only complimented his angelic blue eyes, messy hair, and the slight blush that had overtaken him as he looked at you shyly. 
“I hope that was okay…” Matt whispered, burning red. 
You lifted his chin in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “That was better than okay, Matt. That was perfect,” Matt smiled softly, cuddling into your touch as you instructed him to lay down on his back, pressing soft kisses to his face, neck, and chest as he did so. You had known since the moment you had seen the boy in real life that you wanted to ride him. “May I?” You asked, hooking your thumb into the elastic waistband of his gray underwear. 
He nodded eagerly, feathery, brown curls fanning out across the pillow with the motion. You slid his boxers off, smiling at the way his dick was already throbbing with want for you. You began to fist him, watching his pretty face contort with pleasure as tiny little whimpers escaped his lips. Teasing Matt was half the fun, watching the way he would beg for it and turn red whenever you poked fun at him. 
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” You asked with a smirk when he whimpered, thrusting his cock upwards towards your hand. “Need to be used?”
Matt nodded, his pouty bottom lip jutting out as he looked up at you from the bed. “Need you.” he hissed when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. 
You took that as your cue, moving your lips down his arm and kissing every tattoo that decorated his skin. Not wanting to leave him without contact for too long, you quickly bent down and grabbed your wallet from your tote bag lying beside the bed, pulling a condom out. Matt flushed again at the unmistakable sound of foil ripping, his cheeks burning and his cock throbbing as you rolled the rubber onto him. 
“You gonna let me ride you, baby boy?” You asked him, gripping his chin slightly as you straddled his waist. “I think you should show the camera how much you love being used.” 
“Please,” Matt was practically begging by this point, all plump lips and angel eyes as he gripped your hips firmly with his ringed hands. “Wanna be yours.”
You didn’t need to hear anything else. You quickly lined yourself up with him, gently sliding onto his hard cock. Your moans at the feeling of suddenly being so full went straight to Matt’s dick, causing him to buck his hips upward towards your own, whining at the friction. 
“God, you’re so wet…” the brunette whimpered. “Did I do this?”
“You like admiring your work?” You teased, speeding up the rhythm in which you rode him. 
Matt let out a moan at the combination of your praises and teasing, gripping your hips ever harder as you rode him. Pretty, girlish moans escaped his mouth as you took control from his body. All he could focus on was how good you riding him made him feel. The lack of control over his own body had him grabbing your hips in a way that would leave marks in the morning, head thrown back against the pillows as he whined and whimpered. 
“I…I need to…” Matt gasped, tears starting to roll down his cheeks at all the pleasurable sensations. “I need to–” he wailed, not caring how loud he was being at this point. 
“You need to do what?” You asked, staring down at him as you purposely rode the boy harder. “Use your words, Matty.” You teased. 
“Need to cum.” he sobbed, overstimulation building as his stomach ached with the need to cum. 
“God, you’re so hot when you’re like this,” You bent down and pressed a heated kiss to Matt’s lips. “All spread out for me, unable to control yourself, and whining and crying like a slut. Go ahead, baby. Cum like the little boy whore you are.”
Matt didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately let himself go, cum filling the condom as he cried out. “Feels so good.” he panted as he came down from the climax, eyes wide and glazed over. 
The boy fell back against the pillows as you slid off of him, tying up the condom and throwing it away. He looked beyond fucked out, but it was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. You quickly got up and turned the camera off, before  retrieving a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom and using it to wipe Matt off while showering him with both praise and kisses across his tummy and chest. 
“You are so perfect.” You told him, once you had been rid of the cloth and climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers of your naked bodies. 
“I am?” Matt asked meekly, avoiding contact as he blushed, a smile growing across his face. 
“The best.” You assured him, enjoying the tulip pink color that painted his skin once again. 
“I probably shouldn’t ask you this…” Matt paused to collect himself for a moment, before rolling over and facing you. “Would you um, wanna go out with me sometime?”
You couldn’t help the loud giggle that escaped your mouth as you leaned across the bed and kissed his cheek. “I just came all over your face and you’re embarrassed to ask me out?”
Matt nodded shyly, but giggled himself, snaking his hand across the sheets to hold your own. “I didn’t know if you just wanted a hookup or something.”
“You really think I’m really gonna let a pretty boy like you pass me by?” You raised a brow, planting a firm kiss on his pink lips. 
Laid here in this gorgeous bed, naked and only covered by sheets as he blushed, you realized that you truly had made the right decision to pursue this model baby. 
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tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @aaronshotchgirl @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @hiimoliviaimnewhere @loisnotacupcake-blog @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
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sourassin · 2 years
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My sister died, and I can’t. I can’t do anything.
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cleo-fox · 2 months
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Conquer
Part 1 of 3
Summary: The king intends to take a bride.
You just never thought it would be you.
(Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering.
A/N: I’m kind of fascinated by the concept of a soulmate AU where Loki wins and this is just another take on that thought. If you've read my fic Surrender, this one is a different universe (an AU of an AU? Is that a thing?)
I am indebted to @infinitystoner, who was kind enough to talk me through some of my doubts about this fic. This one is for you, K. (Also, everyone should go read her work, it's fabulous).
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The king intends to take a bride.
At first you think it’s just a stupid rumor, but with time, it becomes clear that it’s not merely a stupid rumor, but a true rumor about a stupid plan. He hasn’t found his soulmate; the speculation is that this is about producing an heir or something similar. Which is also stupid because he’s the one who took over your fucking planet. He can make new rules for succession if he wants to. He doesn’t have to make other people suffer.
You, like most people, still harbor a lot of anger and resentment toward Loki.
You don’t know who he’s going to rope into this plan, but you feel bad for her already. Imagine not only having to be married to that monster, but being in this weird second place to whoever is unfortunate enough to be his soulmate. Imagine having to fuck him, to try and have his kid, all the while knowing you’ll be discarded once he finds his soulmate. Imagine having to go along with all of this and never being able to say what you really think.
The only person you feel sorrier for is whoever turns out to be his soulmate.
Later, all of this will strike you as absurdly ironic.
But you don’t know any of that yet.
*
You took a job at the hotel because you needed a change of pace after Loki took over. It was just a front desk job—you checked people in and out, answered questions, and said “let me get my manager” whenever there was a serious problem with a guest. It wasn’t glamorous or fun, but it was straightforward and you never had to bring work home with you.
The one thing that you never really considered was whether you were inadvertently choosing a job that would bring you into closer proximity to the man you were trying so desperately hard to not think about at all.
You probably should have considered it—you knew when you took the job that he did a fair amount of travel. You never really understood why—he conquered the entire fucking planet, you think he’d be content to just chill in his palace or whatever. But no. He was constantly on the move, constantly showing up and demanding to be accommodated, and people put up with it because what else are they supposed to do? You can’t exactly persona non grata the guy that successfully took over your planet and made himself king. If that worked, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
You kind of assumed that he wouldn’t show up to your hotel—it wasn’t conveniently located to anything useful and while it technically had a five star rating, you didn’t think it offered the same caliber of accommodations as the places he was known to stay.
As it turns out, you were wrong on all counts. Hilariously wrong. Because now his steward is here in your hotel lobby. Or his…emissary? You’re not sure what this guy’s official title is. You recognize him from the news—he can often be spotted in the entourage of guards and staff that accompany Loki everywhere, but you don’t know his name. He is rattling off a monologue of sorts—the king requires accommodations, only the finest rooms, and so on. You feel as though you are having an out of body experience as you click through the booking software and confirm that the penthouse is available. You breathe an inner sigh of relief—it would have been manageable to evict whichever rich person had booked it, but it would have fucked up the cleaning crew’s scheduling for at least the next week and you know that corporate is already up Marisol’s ass about your location’s overtime.
You don’t really expect him to show up during this transaction. If you had, you would have said “let me get my manager” and washed your hands of it—you don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with self-proclaimed kings. But as you are booking the room (who the fuck are you supposed to list as the guarantor on the invoice? This wasn’t covered in your training), Loki storms in, followed by a cadre of guards.
You’re not really prepared to see him in person—that’s partly why you freeze. He’s so tall and well…real. It sounds stupid, but it’s jarring seeing him in front of you instead of on a screen or in a picture. He’s not exactly more frightening, but looking at him makes your pulse quicken.
He’s scolding the steward (emissary?) about something—you’re so distracted that you miss exactly what it is that has him so annoyed.
And then you realize that the mark on your left wrist is burning.
You swallow hard. No. Not him.
Loki looks up and his eyes lock with yours.
Fucking hell.
*
The wedding is a spectacle, to say the least.
Your dress is fucking ridiculous. Instead of the traditional white, you are draped in yards of green fabric covered in thousands of emeralds and diamonds and painstakingly embroidered with thread made of real gold and silver. It is very much a statement about who you are and who you belong to. You don’t care for it, but you don’t really have a choice—the details of the ceremony have been largely left to other people to decide. Part of you thinks they must have been planning for this for years, based on the number of things that are already prepared. Or maybe having access to magic negates the need for planning ahead.
You are much too angry to actually ask Loki about any of this. Not that you see much of him before the ceremony anyway.
You go through the motions of the ceremony, trying to keep your cool. It’s only been a week since he found you at the hotel, so the fact that you haven’t consummated your soulbond is more akin to an annoying itch than anything more disruptive, but when he kisses you at the conclusion of the ceremony, it's…intense, to say the least. The mild ache that settled itself between your thighs last week seems to swell, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. When he slides his tongue past your lips, all you want to do is release a wanton moan directly into his mouth and rub yourself shamelessly against him. The fact that you’re standing on a platform while the entire world looks on is really the only thing that stops you.
The fact that this is your immediate reaction scares you a bit. You know it’s biology—soulbonds are meant to be consummated isn’t just a saying—but there’s part of you that feels like you should have a stronger handle on that impulse. You are mad at him, you remind yourself. He took over your entire planet, installed himself as king, and then had the audacity to be your soulmate. Focus. Be angry.
You wonder if your family and friends are watching. Your phone ran out of battery the night after he found you and you haven’t had the heart to charge it. You’re barely managing your own emotional reaction—you’re not ready to invite anyone else into it just yet.
The rest of your wedding day is a blur. You meet a bunch of important people and retain exactly none of their names or roles. There is an elaborate multi-course feast and you manage to eat without spilling food on your dress, which feels like a small miracle. You meet more important people and somehow retain even less information. You dance—a few dances with important people whose names you’ve forgotten, but mostly with Loki. The sun sets. They bring out an elaborate dessert course. You dance again. Loki’s hand on your waist fans the flames of desire that you’re trying so hard to ignore.
Finally, you’re whisked away to prepare for bed. It took three people to get you into your dress, and it takes just as many to get you out. They help you into a nightgown that you also didn’t get to pick out—and in fact, it’s the first time you’re seeing it at all. It’s almost too pretty to sleep in, though you suppose that’s the point—you’re supposed to fall asleep naked and sated in the arms of your new husband (god, it’s so weird that you have a husband). You’re not so sure that this is the specific fate that’s in your cards, but you anticipate the nightgown will be coming off at some point this evening. In the interim, you look stereotypically virginal in white lace and chiffon, a glittering emerald pendant resting in your cleavage.
You’ve been staying in a guest suite since he found you, but tonight, they bring you to his rooms. Your rooms, you suppose. Somehow, you doubt he’s the sort who believes that husbands and wives should sleep separately.
The lights are on, but it’s quiet. You wonder if he’s even here.
You approach the couch that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. You can see fireworks and twinkling lights of different celebrations and your stomach clenches like a fist. It’s supposed to be in honor of you. Earth’s new queen. A title that shouldn’t even exist, let alone belong to you.
You turn away from the window and sit down on the couch. You stare at the wall, hands twisting the delicate fabric of your nightgown in your lap.
You hear a sound in the other room—his study, you think—and your heart leaps to your throat, practically buzzing with an emotion that feels like the strange cousin of anxiety and anticipation.
You keep your eyes locked on the wall as you listen to his footsteps draw closer.
“It’s customary to announce yourself when you enter someone’s quarters, you know.”
You pause for a moment before letting your gaze trail to him. It’s a conscious, obnoxious power play on your part—you are trying to show him that you still have agency, that he has not yet won your respect or admiration.
You’re not even sure that it registers, which only serves to irritate you further.
He is still wearing most of his wedding clothes, though he’s taken off the fine surcoat from the ceremony, exposing the soft tunic he was wearing underneath. He is smirking—that seems to be his expression of choice, you’ve noticed.
“Aren’t these my rooms too?” you ask. “Is it customary to announce myself in my own space?”
You are trying to be rude, but it doesn’t seem to matter: he simply laughs.
“You are spirited,” he says, looking you over appreciatively, stirring a wild and burning need in your hips, slickness collecting in the lacy white underwear that had been chosen for you.
“And you intend to break me, is that it?” you snap with more venom than is perhaps wise.
“Of course not.” His answer surprises you, though you are determined to not let that show in your face. “Your will is part of your appeal. I’d no sooner crush a rose beneath my boot.”
You are skeptical of this claim given the amount of damage he did to New York City, but your traitorous cunt throbs at his words nonetheless.
“I’m not happy about any of this, you know,” you say, hoping that your anger will act like roiling floodwaters on the firestorm of lust that’s continuing to build in your hips.
It doesn’t, of course. What’s worse: he laughs. Again.
“I’d gathered,” he says. “You are wonderfully unsubtle when you’re angry.”
“I mean, are you surprised?” you say irritably. “I didn’t even get to pick out my own wedding dress, for fuck’s sake.”
“This is the burden of the office, I’m afraid,” he says. “Your wants and desires are often secondary to the needs of the crown.”
You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from screaming at him. “I think you’re missing the point.”
“I think you’ll find I’m not.”
You let out one long breath. “Are you trying to irritate me?”
Another smirk. “I’m afraid I simply have a gift for it.”
You finally give in and scowl. “Great. This is going about as well as I had expected.”
His eyes drift down the column of your throat to the emerald pendant resting in your cleavage and then to the bodice of your nightgown. “Perhaps it’s time we concern ourselves with activities that require less talking.” He licks his lips and brings his gaze back up to yours.
“I’m not entirely convinced anything would stop you from talking,” you say.
“I suspect letting me bury my tongue in your cunt might do the trick.”
For the first time today, you are entirely speechless. The fire burning low in your hips roars into an inferno, like someone has poured accelerant along your nerves and Loki has struck a match. You take in one shaky breath, your heart thrumming in your throat.
“That’s what I thought,” he says with a dark sort of smugness. “To bed, wife.”
You steadfastly ignore the way your stomach jumps when he calls you ‘wife.’ Why is that hot? It shouldn’t be hot.
You’re tempted to argue with him some more—you don’t like giving him even the vaguest impression that you’re following his orders or anything like that—but one smoldering look from him has your heart pounding and another wave of fresh arousal flooding between your legs. You follow him to the bed, trying to keep your expression neutral and indifferent.
He pulls you firmly against him and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no space between you—you can feel his stomach muscles expand and contract with every slow intake of breath, the press of his slowly hardening cock against your stomach.
He tilts your face up to his and claims your mouth in a devouring kiss, and this time, the moan that you’d held back during the ceremony slips from your lips almost immediately. He makes a low growling noise in return, his hands sliding to the row of small pearl buttons that hold up the back of your nightgown.
You suspect that beyond aesthetic and functional value, the purpose of these buttons is to facilitate a slow, sexy reveal; Loki undoes exactly two and a half buttons before roughly pulling the edges of the fabric apart, the remaining buttons snapping from their threads and pinging against the floor.
You pull away from him, immediately annoyed. “Do you make a habit of ruining other people’s things? What if I wanted to wear that again?”
He laughs, tugging the fabric off your shoulders. “Perhaps you forget the extraordinary powers I have at my command,” he says, staring greedily at your breasts as he tugs the nightgown down your waist, pulling it off your hips so it falls to the floor. “I could tear this gown off you every night and remake it every morning with no more than a click of my fingers.”
Fucking magic powers undercutting your goddamn fucking point.
“Yeah, well, you’re still a jackass,” you say sourly, unwilling to concede the point any further.
His smile is sharp in a way that makes you shiver and he slips his hand into your underwear, his smile growing as he feels how slick you are. “It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much, does it?”
You try to keep your expression stern, but his fingers find your clit and you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.
“Your sweet cunt is so ready to come.” He slides a finger into you and you whimper. “It’s obscene how wet you are for me.”
You bite back a plea and kiss him instead. His mouth is rough on yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue plundering your mouth. He slides a second finger into you and you keen.
“Yes,” he groans against your mouth. “Take it like a good girl.”
You clench around his fingers and your hands seek purchase in his hair. You tug on it lightly and he growls with pleasure before he pulls away, his hands moving to the waistband of your underwear and tugging it off your hips.
“Get on the bed.” His tone brooks no arguments. “Now.”
It’s tempting to talk back, tempting to resist. You are still angry about every aspect of this relationship and this stupid fucking wedding. But you know you need this—the dull ache in your hips is only growing more pronounced with every passing moment and the brief feeling of his fingers on your clit was nothing short of heaven. Soulbonds are meant to be consummated and your body seems to be doing everything it can to propel you toward that end.
You kick your underwear the rest of the way off before sitting down on the bed and lying back on the pillows.
He pauses for a moment to look you over, his gaze trailing lazily over your bare skin, his hand absently moving to palm his cock through his trousers. “Spread your legs,” he says. You do and you catch a breath of a groan from him as he stares at you. Your cunt throbs in response and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.
He allows himself one moment before he crawls on the bed to join you. He kneels between your legs, staring greedily at your exposed cunt, running a thumb along the edge of your folds. Your hips rock upward involuntarily, chasing his hand, seeking friction.
“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs. “So soaking wet, so desperately needy for my touch.” He pauses again, licking his lips. “I think I might need a taste.”
Your breath stutters in your chest and he kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly licking and sucking his way upward in a tantalizing preview of what’s to come. You’re already soaking and you can feel yourself growing wetter as his sinful mouth draws closer and closer to your aching need.
You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a moan or a whine that passes your lips when he finally licks that first long, lazy stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans low and wanting against your cunt, his tongue rolling over your clit once more before he catches it between his lips and slowly begins to suck.
There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.
It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.
He is—predictably—infuriatingly smug about all of this.
Your first orgasm arrives so quickly that it seems to take you both by surprise. And indeed, he lifts his head moments later, already smirking.
“That was awfully quick, wife,” he says. The glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely noticed how you reacted to that name earlier and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from scowling.
“Maybe you’re out of practice,” you say. Even as you say it, it doesn’t sound convincing (it doesn’t even make sense when you think about it later) and Loki laughs outright.
“I think not,” he says, carefully sliding one long index finger inside of you. “I think your poor cunt has been sorely neglected, either by you or some subpar lover you took to ease the ache of missing me.” He adds a second finger and you bite your lip to keep in a moan. “I think you’ll be begging for me before the night is out.” His fingertips press teasingly against that spot inside you and you take in a sharp breath.
He starts lazily moving his fingers in and out of you and while it feels good, you know it’s not going to be enough to get you there. You suspect, from the way that he’s smirking, that he knows this, too.
“Do you want my mouth again? I don’t think you’re done.”
“You’re trying to be a jerk and I don’t like it,” you say.
He laughs and draws his thumb briefly over your clit. “Darling, I only want you to tell me what you want.”
Your eyes narrow. “Why?”
“I think you can understand the appeal of hearing a beautiful woman beg for your touch.”
His compliment immediately clashes with the suggestion that you begging for him is a possibility.
He smiles, catlike, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
“You need my mouth again,” he says, fingers curling inside you. “You need more. I can feel how wet you are, sweet thing.” His thumb presses against your clit and retreats as soon as your breath hitches.
“I could keep you like this for hours. Days, even,” he says, lazily stroking his fingers inside you. “I could keep you right on the edge, begging for your release. But I don’t think you want that. Even I don’t want that. I think you want to come again right now and I think you want my mouth.”
“I’m not begging you for it,” you say.
“I’ve only asked you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I’ve merely expressed that I find the idea of you begging very appealing.”
You want to smack him. With your luck, though, that would turn out to be one of his kinks and then you’ll really be in for it. Your fingers flex against the sheets.
“Do you want to come, darling? Do you want my mouth again?” he asks with a feigned innocence that suggests it’s not a loaded question, even as the glint in his eyes tells you it is.
You’re silent for a beat and then his thumb returns to your clit, pressing and stroking as his fingers curl inside of you. Your hips rock with his hand and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he stops a few seconds later, his eyebrows raised like he’s expecting your answer.
This exchange repeats four more times. On the fifth, you finally break.
“Please,” you whimper. You sound more desperate than you would prefer, but your overwhelming need to come has quickly superseded whatever shreds of decency you have left.
“Please what?” he asks, radiating smugness.
You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl, which he only laughs at.
“I’m waiting…” he says, his fingers curling in a teasing way.
You know there’s no getting around this. “I need to come.”
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, like he’s expecting more.
You resist the urge to sigh. “I need your mouth. Please.”
He barely spares a second for a wicked grin and a growl of praise that only elevates your need before he’s lowering his mouth again to your clit.
Your second orgasm is somehow even quicker than the first, only this time, you’re already whimpering for the next one as soon as you catch your breath.
Mercifully, he doesn’t lift his mouth from your cunt this time, though he does give you a wicked look that more or less says the same thing.
His fingers are wonderful, but you know they’re no substitute for his cock. And while he has made you come so many times already, the need to have him inside of you continues to grow, settling into a dull ache in your hips.
“I need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe as the aftershocks of your latest orgasm fade back to that ache.
He lifts his head for a minute. “I intend to, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”
Your eyes widen as he seals his lips back around your clit.
“I mean, I’ve just—fuck—I’ve just had more…c-consecutive orgasms than I’ve ever had before in my life, you’re—oh my god, yes—you’re not exactly leaving me wanting—oh fuck.”
He stays silent, but it’s because his tongue is working over your clit. You, on the other hand, are in the process of undercutting your own point. A few more strokes of his tongue and you are coming again, your hips jerking hard against his mouth.
He doesn’t stop after that, either—he draws more orgasms from you, groaning into your cunt when you pull on his hair.
Your pleas for him to fuck you become increasingly desperate with every orgasm, until he finally lifts his head.
“What was it that you wanted?” he asks with a smirk that tells you he needs absolutely no clarification whatsoever.
“Fuck me, please. I need to be fucked, I need your cock,” you say. You feel restless and desperate, the ache inside you growing with every passing second.
“Oh, darling, all you needed to do was ask,” he says, his tone overly cloying.
You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl. “I have been asking. Repeatedly.”
He laughs and begins to undress. You suspect he’s doing this to torture you—you know he could remove his clothes in one go if he wanted to.
He peels his shirt off first and your lips part involuntarily as you take in the firm expanse of muscle of his chest and abdomen, your fingertips itching with the need to touch him. You grip the sheets instead in the vain hope that it might make a difference (it doesn’t).
But even the enticing expanse of his chest is no match for what’s to come.
He removes his trousers with achingly precise slowness. You expect him to be hard; what you’re not expecting is the primal response that it invokes in you. His cock is long, thick, and hard, the head already slick with pre-come. It’s not just for you—it’s because of you.
You swallow hard as he turns to face you fully. You’re so distracted by his cock that you almost miss the smug smirk, which he makes no attempt to hide. He knows he’s hot, he knows he has a beautiful cock, and he knows that you are absolutely aching for him. It is profoundly irritating.
He wraps his hand around his cock, wetting his lips as he casually strokes himself once. “Do you want me?” he asks with the sort of tone and expression that tells you he absolutely knows the answer.
You could yell at him. The prospect is certainly tempting. But you’re not sure that it’s worth it, not with the way your cunt is throbbing with the need to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock.
“Loki, please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you’d like, but you decide that you can live with it.
You are treated to a particularly wolfish grin before he starts stalking towards you.
There’s a large part of you that expects him to flip you over and take you from behind, rough and fast and impersonal. But instead, he climbs on top of you and draws you into a kiss. It’s deep and slow and heightened by the heavy weight of his bare cock pressing against your belly, drops of pre-come smearing against your skin.
Your back arches and your right leg snakes around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him to finally ease the ache inside of you. But he takes his time, kissing you slowly, running his hands over your breasts and hips, rocking his cock against you, but not inside of you.
You don’t like begging—it feels too much like offering up a vulnerability—but it becomes increasingly difficult not to give into the urge the longer he stays on top of you like this.
“Loki,” you finally say when he starts peppering sharp, sucking kisses against your throat.
“What is it, my love?” he asks with a faux confusion that you can see through right away.
“You know what I want,” you say as evenly as you can manage.
“Mmm, let me hear you say it just once more,” he says.
“Please fuck me.”
You’re expecting another negotiation, another battle of wits, but instead, he gives you a rather sharp grin and adjusts his hips so he can rub the tip of his cock up and down the length of your cunt. And then, to your surprise, he lines his cock up at your entrance and slowly begins to ease inside of you.
There’s a part of you—a large part of you—that’s surprised by how careful he is. He’s gentle, slowly pressing into you, giving you time to adjust, his movements careful. He does this all in such a way that you might not notice if you didn’t think to look—he wants you to think that he’s not doing any of what he’s doing. He wants you to think he’s not thinking of you when he is, that the care and precision of his movements are merely a pleasant coincidence. You’re not sure how you know this, but you feel certain.
He waits to kiss you until he’s pressed fully inside you, and you realize this is another illusion, another cover so you don’t realize that he’s giving you another moment to adjust to him.
It’s oddly considerate—irritatingly so. The coals of your anger still burn bright in your heart, but they flicker for just a moment.
But then he begins to move and coherent thoughts flee your mind entirely.
He feels so good. You’re not sure if it’s the soulbond itself, the dopamine and serotonin, or if he just knows the perfect way to move, but the first thrust has your toes curling and that warm heat stirring in your belly. You’ve already come so many times tonight that it feels impossible that your body should be capable of more, but you know immediately that he’s going to bring you right back over the edge if he keeps moving the way he is.
And he’s showing no signs of stopping, either.
“Norns,” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your neck, “you feel perfect. So warm and tight.”
You shiver, your cunt clenching reflexively around his slowly stroking cock. He grins and presses his lips up against your ear.
“Do you like hearing how your snug little cunt fits me like a glove?”
You would prefer to be able to lie in this particular moment—instead, your body immediately betrays you and your legs tighten around his waist as your cunt shudders around him.
You can practically feel his sharp, hungry smile as he nips at your earlobe. “I can feel how much you do,” he murmurs. A devastating swivel of his hips has you uttering a gasping whine that you are not at all proud of.
“That’s it.” He’s swiveling his hips on every other thrust now and you know the moment he switches to that exclusively, it’s all over. “You’re so close,” he purrs with confidence that annoys you just a little, even in your pre-orgasmic stupor.
But then he swivels his hips again and you shudder before you can hide it and he notices…and does it again.
And again.
Fuck.
Your orgasm starts barreling toward you at an impossibly fast pace and his eyes glitter because he knows.
“You’re going to come for me.” It’s not even a command—it’s just a statement as he rolls his hips in those devastating thrusts.
You whimper, your back arching.
“Give into it. Let me feel you.”
One more push of his cock against that sweet spot inside you and you can’t fight it any more. Your muscles tense one last time and you cry out as you come hard on his cock.
“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, his eyes closing as he fucks you through it.
It seems to last a long time, drawn out every time the head of his cock drags against that sensitive spot that sent you over the edge in the first place. He pauses briefly to bring your legs up over his shoulders, which makes his cock hit a spot even deeper inside you that feels so good it pulls a strangled sob from your throat.
Loki groans, his pace increasing, one hand falling between your legs to rub at your clit. It’s so much, but it feels better than anything. You feel another orgasm rising in your hips and you whimper.
“Good girl, fucking take it,” he slurs. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his thrusting is becoming more frantic, how he tips his head back and grips your hips even harder.
“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m going to fill your lovely cunt with my seed. Come for me.”
Your vision whites out and your back arches as you come. If you were capable of rational thought, you would be angry that your body simply obeyed this simple directive; as it is, it’s hard for you to process anything other than how good he feels inside of you.
You can tell he’s approaching his end and he’s utterly captivating to watch. His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed and lips parted as he lets out a low groan that makes your toes curl.
His eyes open in the final throes and he surges forward to kiss you. He moans softly into your mouth as he comes, his whole body shuddering.
You feel dreamy and sated as he slows to a halt, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. The restless ache inside you is finally quiet—at least for now.
You expect him to roll off you and fall asleep—the portrait of a cliche. Instead, he stays with you, the warm heat of his breath ghosting over your shoulder. You can feel his cock still throbbing inside of you.
You should push him away, reclaim the distance between you. You’re angry at him, after all.
But also…it feels nice.
It’s just the endorphins, you tell yourself. It’s hormones. It doesn’t mean anything.
You can feel the lie prickling at the edges of the thought, sharp and needling, like ground glass pressing against bare skin. It means a lot of things; you just wish it didn’t.
Be angry.
His lips brush against your shoulder. More of your muscles relax. It’s nice.
Be angry.
You’re tired though. It’s been a really long day and the bed is soft and the weight of Loki on top of you is oddly reassuring.
Maybe just for tonight. Maybe just this once you’ll allow yourself to fall asleep in his bed.
“I’m still mad at you,” you say. It feels too sharp, too strident. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. He doesn’t know you, though, not really, and so you can only hope that he misses the subtle catch in your voice, that little note of uncertainty.
“I’d expect nothing less.” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.
Goddammit, why does this have to be so comfortable?
He shifts slightly, easing out of you. You feel the resulting mess vanish before it even hits your thigh. At least he’s considerate.
You scowl at the thought.
“Sleep,” he says after a moment. “You’ll need your strength to rage at me in the morning.”
“I can rage at you in my sleep,” you say as your eyes slide shut.
“I’m sure you can,” he says. “Sleep.”
And despite all your complicated feelings—your anger, the inherent feeling of ease you get from his embrace, your unease with your new title, your homesickness—you find that the pull of sleep is too tempting to resist and the world slowly fades away.
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jade-jini · 2 months
Text
“My Ex’s Best Friend”
Kim Chaewon x Reader
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Prompt: Your best friend NingNing is excited to introduce you to her new girlfriend (who turns out to be someone from your past) and to her best friend (who you expect to see more often in your future).
Genre: smut. Fluff. A little angst maybe?
TW: Public sex. Some dirty talking why not. Idk what else to put her I’m bad at this.
Also this has kinda a continuation (plot twist tho), go read it if you want I mean 👀👉🏼👈🏼.
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You haven’t seen NingNing this excited about a girl in such a long time. It was such a change. A cute one, you thought. From not giving a fvck who she took to her bed to calling this mysterious girl “my girl” whenever she talked about her to you.
She explained to you how they met at the company she was currently training at, they became close in there but sadly the girl moved to another company. However, they kept in contact and eventually ended up becoming something more serious. She didn’t mention her before because she wanted to make sure it was actually serious before introducing her to somebody as important as you. When she said this you couldn’t help but to hit her shoulder ‘cause this girl was really turning her into a softie apparently. You were genuinely excited to meet this Yunjin girl already. The name bringing you some bittersweet memories of your own, but regardless of this, you were still so happy for your best friend.
At least until you actually met the girl. Wtf.
“Yunjin, this is Y/n, my best friend. Y/n, this is Yunjin. The girl I’ve been telling you about.” Your best friend said with an excited smile while holding your ex closer to her. Both you and the tall girl tried your best to hide the shock in your faces when you looked at each other for the first time in such a long time.
Yunjin and you have known each other for a looong time. After spending years as an exchange student in Korea, you traveled to New York during a summer. You wanted to simply relax. To let go, to not think too much about anything. It was your summer to be free. Of work. Of school. Of everything. That’s how you met Yunjin, a local girl who was born her own free spirit, and for whom you instantly fell. “New York days” you called it when you talked about it with NingNing. The thing is, you never really gave too much details about it to your friend. You played it as if it was just some adventures you’d have with some girl, nothing too important. In reality tho, it was, in the words of your heart, the best relationship you’ve ever had. A relationship that officially lasted just a summer, but the best experience both of you ever had. From random late night dates, going to the convenience store to buy snacks and eat it together in your back seat, looking at the stars and talking about everything. Going to the beach early in the morning, enjoying the cold water and the warmth of each other’s bodies. Sneaking in her room to give her the best sex she could get, and also the best cuddles. Dates to vintage music stores, listening to her sharing her dream of being a musician, and even listening to her songs as she played the guitar.
You didn’t know why you never really told NingNing the truth. Maybe you just didn’t wanna look too emotional when you first mentioned the girl. You and NingNing weren’t that close back then. And eventually, you just didn’t think it would make any difference since you weren’t expecting to see Yunjin ever again. But Yeah. She was important. And more than just some “girl you hooked up with from time to time in your summer in New York”. She was the first girl who made you cry when you had to of course breakup and say your goodbyes ‘cause you had to go back to Korea. ‘Cause you never thought there was a chance she’d be here too.
And she was also your best friend’s new girlfriend. Fuck.
But c’mon! You were over her! You’ve been over her for a long time already. God it was shocking to see her with NingNing, but nonetheless she was your friend’s happiness now. What could you do? Ning was happy, so you were happy. And they look nice together! You felt incredibly awkward as the third wheel, and even a little jealous. Not in a weird way tho, you just wished you too could have a pretty girl next to you at the moment, somebody who could distract your mind and heart from whatever that was starting to form in there, somebody who-
“Oh! Chaewonie is here!” Yunjin said after checking her phone, interrupting your train of thought as she opened the door and let in some girl who-
Oh.
Oh.
Some girl.
Nah that wasn’t just some girl. That was THE girl. That was a beautiful and so Fuckin hot girl and - who was this girl?!!!
“Ok guys, let me introduce you. Unnie this is Yi Zhuo, my girlfriend. And y/n, she is... she’s her best friend..” the tall girl said and thankfully the awkwardness was overshadowed by your best friend excitedly saying hi while hugging the short- haired girl, who mirrored the excitement. They seemed really happy to meet such an important person in Yunjin’s life. But again, who was this girl? And how could you get her number in your phone right now?! “guys, this is chaewon. My bestest best friend”.
“Nice to meet you, y/n” the girl said as she gave you a sweet smile.
Best friend? Uh oh.
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I mean c’mon. Was it really that bad? Yunjin moved on. And with your own best friend! Was it that bad that you were looking at her best friend and the only thing you could think about was how perfect her clothes would look on your bedroom floor…
Ok calm down, y/n. You almost sound desperate you thought. Weren’t you tho
You all were currently hanging out at night around the city, enjoying the privacy 2:00 am gives. You guys were driving around chatting, sharing drinks (you Ofc, as the designated driver, were doing your best not to drink too much) and enjoying the music. NingNing Ofc wanted to sit with her girl so Chaewon ended up being your passenger. After driving around for a little bit you guys decided to stop at an empty little playground. If anybody saw the view there they’d either laugh at 4 clearly drunk dumbasses playing like kids, or they’d call the cops. NingNing and Yunjin couldn’t be more closer and playful with each other. Playing tag you’re it and holding each other while laughing. The view was so confusing for you.
You knew you were happy that your best friend found somebody who makes her feel like this. But it was.. uneasy to see it being with your ex, with the only person that made you feel special and understood once. What were you exactly sad about? You didn’t miss Yunjin, right?
Right?
You shook your head as you sat down on a bench. Sighing, you looked at the beautiful sky, getting lost counting stars.
“Hi there.” You heard a voice you were still not used to. “What you doing?” Chaewon asked while hitting your thigh in a friendly matter and sitting next to you, imitating how you looked so focused on the sky.
“I got tired, I’m just waiting for those two little toddlers to get tired too i guess” you joked, making her laugh. The cute sound of it made you look at her, already getting your heartbeat a little accelerated.
“Right? The adoption center didn’t tell me they were gonna be so hyped” she joked along making you laugh as well. You saw her shivered a bit. “Are you cold?” You asked her, already removing your jacket.
“Ah! You don’t have to..” she said softly, but you insisted, already placing them over her shoulders and she smiled at you “thank you”. (What you didn’t know is that was her plan actually).
You always had a thing for people using your clothes. You didn’t know if it was a possessive side of you or what, but it always had an effect on you if you were attracted to that person. For some reason your clothes always looked better. Chaewon probably noticed your eyes on her, ‘cause she was smiling at her mischievously.
“I’m sorry I-“ you started but she just laughed.
“It’s ok, you’re cute” she interrupted you, now with a little more flirtatious tone. You gulped, her eyes for some reason getting a shy side of you. She seemed to enjoy the effect she had on you. Licking her lips, she sat closer to you, her eyes hypnotizing you.
Chaewon and you talked for a bit about how long you’ve known your best friends. You learned her and Yunjin were training to debut together in a new group, but they had met before at a survival show, so they go a long way back. They only got close after starting training together at their new company. Yunjin clearly never mentioned you before, and you didn’t know exactly how to feel about it. For one side, it was sad that she never mentioned you to such important people in her life, but on the other side, the less people who knew about you guys, the best, you guess.
“How long do you think it’ll take until one of them throws up?” Chaewon said, getting you out of your head.
“If they do, I ain’t cleaning shit.” You said with a worried expression and a raise eyebrow. Your face making her laugh, once again the sound of it just giving you a warm feeling in your chest.
Surprisingly sooner than you’d think tho, the couple ran out of energy, and sat next to you two as they tried to catch their breath.
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You went back to NingNing’s house ‘cause the two other best friends were gonna get their bags. The plan was to do that, get them home, and then come back to spend the rest of the night at NingNing’s. But of course, her gf had something else in mind.
“Hmmm I wanna stay with you babe~” she’d say to Ning, hiding her face against her neck. She was clearly drunk, and so was your friend, who looked at you with an apologetic smile. You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, knowing what it meant.
“Let’s go, Chaewon. I’ll take you home. I think our best friends want the night alone.” You said while opening the front door. The short-haired girl said her goodbyes to her best friend and yours and got in the car with giggles after probably teasing Yunjin about whatever was gonna happen once the couple were alone. Great.
“Here, put your address please.” You asked her and she did, although a little hesitant at first. As you started driving, she was resting her head against the seat while looking through the window quietly. You assumed the alcohol was already making her sleepy, but it was more than that. Wonie didn’t want the night to end. Not yet. She didn’t feel like going home. She didn’t feel like ending the night away from you.
“You know “ she started, catching your attention after a few seconds of comfortable silence “Sometimes I wish I could find something like that. Like what they have. Doesn’t have to be a relationship ‘cause I don’t think I want that at the moment but, I guess it would be nice to have I don’t know, a person. You know what I mean?” Chaewon explained to you, who were listening mindfully to her words. Taking advantage of a red light, you looked at her, and she was already looking at you. “I don’t really wanna go home tonight, y/n. do you?”
You gulped, and simply shook your head. She signaled with her head the empty parking lot of the park you were at earlier that night with your friends and without having to think about it twice you parked there. You looked at Chaewon again, and she was carefully analyzing your reaction to her next words, feeling brave but mostly impossibly dragged to you.
“Then what should we do now?” she whispered, her face getting closer to yours until you could almost taste her mint breath mixed with whatever sweet drink she had. Fuck. It. (As in, the expression, not her face- anywayyyy).
Chaewon in one quick movement was already straddling you, making your heart beat so fast. You felt like a teenager sneaking out. You were having a little rush of adrenaline again after so long. And you liked it. I mean, who wouldn’t die to have such a pretty girl on your lap like that. Seeing your expression, Chaewon couldn’t help but giggle a bit before taking your lips in a deep kiss. Both of you moaned on each other’s mouths, the taste of your tongue on hers driving her insane already, making her so sensitive that every subtle move you did under her was making a sweet noise escape from her lips. You grabbed her waist, keeping her as close as possible.
Once you separated a bit to catch your breath, you looked into her eyes and could see the reflection of your lust in them.
“I swear your lips were made to kiss mine” she said in between a little giggle, leaving more kisses on your lips. You smiled at her, wondering how could someone be so cute in this situation, and making the mistake of remembering there was a person who once made you wonder the same thing.
You shook your head a little bit in order to get that thought out of your head, and went back to focusing on the girl in your arms at the moment. As Chaewon starting eagerly kissing your neck while undoing your shirt, your hands went under her skirt to her ass, grabbing it and leaving some spanks from time to time, making the girl whimper against your skin.
“Harder, please…” she begged, and that turned you on so much that you couldn’t help but to make her get on all fours. The sudden change of position and how easy it was for you to handle her like that made her squeal in excitement, knowing she was gonna have a lot of fun with you. Your hand once again impacted against the pale skin, harder than before this time. Chaewon cried, but you saw her pushing her ass closer to you, in a way of asking for more you assumed.
“You like it rough, princess?” You asked teasingly, your hips against her ass as your hands felt it and went up and down her back. She didn’t answer, instead just left out a little whimper as you saw her head softly nod. You just clicked your tongue at that “Use your words, I don’t read minds” you told her, your tone still the same. She whimpered again before murmuring something “what was that?”
“I said yes.. i like it rough, ma’am.”
“That’s a good girl.” You said as you pulled her hair to make her look at you and steal another deep kiss from her. Your hands traveled to her panties, removing them quickly and throwing them somewhere in your car. Fixing her position, putting her ass up a bit, you saw her glistening pussy and you could feel your mouth drool. Suddenly you felt like you haven’t had a single drop of water in your whole life. Not losing any time, you started eating her out, moaning at the perfect taste the girl had. “God that’s such a good pussy” you groaned while spanking her once again. “Come here, open your mouth.” You told her, pulling her hair to get her up, and making her suck on two of your fingers. Chaewon made sure to give a show for you, sucking and licking on them like she was giving you a blowjob. So sensual as she looked into your eyes with a look that was begging for something, and both of you knew you’d give her that and more.
You were biting your lip as you looked at her, the feeling of her tongue around your fingers was turning you on so much that you almost couldn’t wait to feel it on the rest of your body. “That’s.. that’s good, turn around for me” you asked her, and you saw her smile mischievously as she obeyed, returning to her previous position. You sighed at the view of her bare ass up like that for you. Slowly putting your fingers inside and hearing her long soft cry, you decided to tease her other hole with your other hand, slightly brushing with your thumb to see if she was ok with it.
Chaewon was a little surprised at the feeling but didn’t reject it as she pushed closer to your hands, enjoying the stimulations. Therefore, you decided to add your mouth to the game, teasing her asshole with the tip of your tongue.
“A-Ahh, y/n…” you heard her moan. You looked up, to make sure she was ok “more, please…”
Oh. Oh.
“Whatever you say, princess” you answered with a soft giggle before going back to your job. Your fingers moved at a decent pace, following your tongue as you ate the girl out. The sweet sounds coming out of her, slowly become more desperate, multiple “more”, “faster, please” only motivated you to keep going until your roughness had her grabbing the seat hard to steady herself.
“Fuck, y/n, so good, please…” she said in between loud whimpers. “Close..” you heard her say.
“Close? You wanna cum already, pretty girl?” You asked her, looking at her as she looked back, and receiving eager nods and soft pleads while she pouted “Aww you’re so cute, how to say no to you?” You cooed, her pretty eyes melting your heart. Picking up your pace, you fingered her fast and deep, your other hand now back to spanking her ass to then softly caress the zone, and your mouth now attached to her clit for more stimulation.
It didn’t take long for Chaewon to finish hard with a long loud moan, leaving her breathless. The sensation of her pussy tightening around your fingers and the taste of her orgasm leaving you addicted. After cleaning her up with your mouth (more for you than for her), you cleaned your own fingers. As the girl lied there for a bit, you were ready to just take care of her and take her home so she could rest if that’s what she needed.
But surprisingly, Chaewon had other plans.
“You’re so fucking good, you know?” She cutely giggled while slowly going back to your lap, hugging you by your shoulders. You smiled at her, your eyes almost looking like little crescents. “Ready to go home?” You asked her while passing your hands across her back. The girl looked confused “home? But, we’re not done yet though, are we?” She said while kissing your neck, her hands going to your zipper.
“I-I mean, I thought maybe you were tired already and just wanted me to take you home you know” you tried talking, but the way she moved on top of you and the little bites she was leaving on your skin were taking your breath away.
“What, you think I’m just a pillow princess?” She whispered in your ear, making you gulped. “Lay down for me baby, let me make you feel good too.” She said and didn’t have to repeat herself.
“Yes ma’am” you told her as you rested on the seat, your arms under your head. Chaewon quickly removed your pants and underwear, and put your shirt up so she could play with your chest.
“Hmm this is bothering me.” She said while taking your bra off without taking your shirt off too, just ‘cause she thought the view of you with your shirt up was hot. You were impressed at how fast she did that, but couldn’t process anything as her mouth went directly to play with your nipple.
“Holy fuck..” you sighed while receiving stimulation in such a sensitive zone for you. Chaewon switched from one nipple to the other, taking her sweet taking enjoying the feeling and taste of your tits in her mouth and hands. “They’re so fucking pretty” she whispered against your skin, leaving a soft bite in one of them that made you jump. Chaewon giggled at your reaction, and brought a finger to your mouth so you could do what she did earlier and make it wet. Her mouth continued her job while she looked up at you. After you made sure to lick it nice and wet, her hand traveled down your body, playing with your clit.
Soft groans and moans escaped your mouth as you fought to keep your eyes open, the sensation being too good, but so was the view of her sucking on your tits. You stroked her hair softly while she was there, but felt her go down your body too, leaving a trail of kisses everywhere. The anticipation turning you on more and more (if that was even possible).
Once the girl was between your legs, she left a slowly and long lick all over your pussy. “Fuuuck… Wonie..” you moaned at the contact. She did this a few more times, each time loving the reaction you had. “Please stop playing with me, please” you begged her and her smirk made you scared for a moment, thinking that maybe she was into torturing you like this.
“Aww but you have such cute reactions, baby” she cooed, and you decided you could play the same game as her. If she wanted cute.
“Please Wonie, please…” you asked her with the cutest pout you could do, almost looking like you were gonna cry. You saw her as she whispered a little “fuck..” and rolled her eyes, giving up.
“Fine, fine! Such an impatient one, aren’t we” she teased before finally giving you what you wanted, messily eating your pussy out. You squealed, while grabbing her hair to make sure she stayed right there. The way she looked up to you, pure lust in her eyes, was just extra stimulation for you. The feeling of her lips and tongue traveling all over your pussy, and the vibrations that her moans caused, they were building up your orgasm rather quick. You didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol you had earlier (even though you barely had any) or just how amazing chaewon was with her tongue, not slowing down even for a second to let you catch your breath.
“Your pussy tastes so good, y/n” she said while replacing her mouth with her finger on your clit for just a second.
“Oh my god, Wonie…” you moaned loudly.
“Mhm that’s it, keep saying my name baby” the girl said and you obeyed.
Her mouth attached to your cunt, reaching every sensitive spot making it hard to stay still. Your hands kept moving, from her hair, to your nails on her back, to even scratching your own chest because of how insanely good she was making you feel. The view she was getting only pushing her to eat you out more eagerly, moaning against your pussy and that just made everything feel even better if that was possible.
Coming in her mouth and she took it all so well her eyes were rolling ‘cause god didn’t you taste amazing. Seeing you lying down on that backseat, trying to catch your breath just made her want you more and more. She needed to have you all night and that was her plan.
“Hey, should we maybe you know, take this to my place?” She asked, looking at you with those sparkling eyes and how could you say no to chaewon? When you wanted her just as much?
Such a cold night in Seoul, but neither of you felt anything else than the warmth of each other’s bodies as you learn every centimeter of that beautiful girl. And the fact that your ex and your best friend were probably in the same situation? Didn’t cross your mind once.
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