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scudslut · 2 months

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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

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sofaeatspaint · 1 year

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garlic aioli ……. so good but ………. at what cost ………

#posted from the Giampietro bathrooms #txt #it wasn’t actually my boy giam who did me dirty it was the gold pan saloon #those fries were so good but ohmygod

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alltoowelltom · 3 months

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ice princess ⛸️

oscar piastri x figure skater!reader (+ toto wolff's daughter!reader)

from this request HERE

skateupdates: Olympic figure skating pair Y/N Wolff and Valeriy Angelopol have called it quits! Despite competing together since they were children and dating for the last year and a half, Valeriy has released a statement that the duo would be 'going [our] separate ways for the upcoming competition season'. He also stated there were 'no hard feelings regarding the separation, [the couple] just turned out to have irreconcilable differences'. Our reps reached out to Y/N Wolff for a statement but she has declined to speak on it at this time.

user1: WHAT

user2: MUM AND DAD SPLIT UP?

↳ user3: and they won't compete together anymore??

user4: wait will they be retiring? or will they compete in separate categories?

user5: 'she has declined to speak on it at this time' I just KNOW mother is LIVID

↳ user6: no hard feelings my ass 💀

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestie, lewishamilton

yourusername🔹️: 🎧😴

comments on this post have been disabled.

liked by oscarpiastri, susiewolff, yourbestie

yourusername🔹️: back at it ⛸️❄️

user1: DOES THIS MEAN SHE WILL STILL COMPETE

danielricciardo🔹️: That's our girl!

user2: oscar being the first to like as usual

lewishamilton🔹️:🔥🔥🔥

↳ yourusername🔹️: don't you dare send fire to melt my ice??

↳ lewishamilton🔹️: I was being empowering bozo

↳ user3: they're so sibling energy 😭

user4: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU Y/N

oscarpiastri🔹️: 🐧🐧

liked by yourusername

↳ user5: is this him 'making a move' 🥴

liked by yourusername, landonorris, charlesleclerc

oscarpiastri🔹️: Good day, pumped for a p5 finish 👊

yourinstagram🔹️: WOAH

↳ user1: SHE"S SO REAL FOR THIS

↳ oscarpiastri🔹️: What?

↳ yourusername🔹️: jawline sharper than my skates 😳

↳ oscarpiastri🔹️: Why are you always bringing my jawline into things?

↳ yourusername🔹️: OHMYGOD PASTRY ITS CALLED FLIRTING READ SOME SMUT

user2: UHHHHH WHAT WAS THAT INTERACTION WITH Y/N

↳ landonorris🔹️: IDK MATE

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, susiewolff

yourusername🔹️: thank you for having me @.mclaren!

mclaren🔹️: The pleasure was all ours Y/N 🧡

landonorris🔹️: *oscar's

↳user1: LANDO TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

landonorris🔹️: I didn't even make it onto the post 😔other priorities i guess

↳yourusername🔹️: I WAS PROUD OF YOU TOO LANDO

oscarpiastri🔹️: I can't believe you'd post my ducks

↳yourusername🔹️: NO ONE IS HAPPY WITH ME POST

user2: soooo...the shoes?

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, susiewolff

oscarpiastri🔹️: Proud is an understatement 🧡🩵

user1: OUR GIRL WON THE GOLD 🥇

↳ user2: the way we haven't heard a peep from her ex skating partner too-

user3: IS THIS AN ANNOUNEMENT FINALLY

yourusername🔹️: 🧡🩵

↳ user4: ohmygod do the hearts represent them the papaya for mclaren the ice for y/n

danielricciardo🔹️: Congratulations Y/N!

user5: daniel being y/ns biggest supporter for like a decade😭🥹

user6: LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER

user7:what the hell does toto think of this 😭

↳ yourusername🔹️: believe his exact words were 'will oscar come to mercedes now 🙂'

user8: @.yourusername so you and oscar DID go skating 🥹🥹

↳ yourusername🔹️: was like bambi on ice

↳ user9: been waiting for them to realize for so long...like i knew it

↳ landonorris🔹️: preaching to the choir mate

a/n: thank you for reading! reblogs and feedback help sm <3

i really want to be posting more as I'm so busy with work and also graduating in a few months and that seems to be taking up all my time 😩 but I really appreciate the support I've been receiving and will be working through your requests asap 🤍

#oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #f1 smau #formula one smau #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris #figure skater!reader #oscar piastri fluff #friends to lovers

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iovesia · 8 months

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✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒.

bodyguard!john wick⠀x⠀bratty!spoiled!fem!reader.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. being notorious for your spoiled, bratty behavior— you have successfully scared off your all previous bodyguards. but you’re stumped when this one just won’t quit.

—⠀੭୧⠀warnings⠀· ˚ ༘⠀large age gap. hyperfem!reader. reader is a bitch. mean!john. oral (m!receiving). dubious consent. brat taming. size kink. face slapping. 2.4k words.

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐, 𝒋𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆 ִֶָ 𓂃 ⊹ for all my hyperfem!reader enthusiasts— this one's for you! i lowkey hate this but i haven't posted a fic in ages ohmygod and i also started school so i might be less active..

#. keanu reeves masterlist. | main masterlist. | request rules.

NO.

It was the one word that was not in your vocabulary.

“No. My decision is final.”

Unfortunately, it was your father’s favorite.

“Daddy, this is so unfair!” You squeal like a petulant child, hot on your father’s trail as he walks through the lavish penthouse which you reside in. Your heels hitting the marble floors reverberate along with your high pitched whining. “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Bodyguard.” Your father corrects.

“Same difference!” Your father lets out an exhausted sigh at your complaints, rubbing his eyes with his ring-adorned finger. The wrinkles on his face are prominent, displaying his ageing stress. “I can handle myself! I’m not a child anymore!”

“You behave like one!” Your father snaps. “It’s how you’ve managed to scare off the last two bodyguards. So help me God, if this one quits too, there’s going to be mayhem. You hear me, young lady?”

Your soft features contort into a nasty grimace when your father points his finger in your face. Resisting the urge to stomp your Dior, pink heel —ergo proving your father’s point— you let out a defeated scoff. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Your father gives you a tight lipped smile. “Jesus, you’re just like your mother. God forbid things don’t go your way.” You try to ignore the sting in your heart at your father’s callous words, the venom in his tone as he refers cruelly to his ex-wife, and your mother.

You clear your throat, quickly wishing to change the topic. “Who even is this guy?!”

“His name’s John Wick. He’s highly specialised in martial arts, firearms, and other weaponry. He also has military experience—”

“So basically, you hired The Terminator?” You interject, snapping your gum loudly in between your lip gloss covered lips. “I still don’t understand why the hell he’s here. None of my friends have old bodyguards following them!”

“Your friends are also not daughters of a mob boss,” your father replied bluntly, his patience wearing as thin as his greying hair. Before you could conjure another witty retort— the doorbell rings through the apartment. You follow close behind your father, eyes shooting daggers into the back of his skull when he walks into the entrance area.

The penthouse was adorned with gold trim and marble floors, along with glimmering chandeliers hanging from the tall ceilings, accentuating your father’s immense wealth— your silver platter prison as you liked to call.

“Christ, give me strength,” Your father mumbles under his breath.

“It’s John, isn’t it?”

“I pray it is.”

“If he’s short, bald and old like the last one— I’m going to freak out,” you hold your hands up defensively, briefly admiring your manicured french tip nails. You pride yourself on your appearance— if you’re not complaining and bitching, you’re spending daddy’s credit card on all things girly and pink.

The door slowly opens. From the bottom of your new bodyguard’s Oxford shoes, you eye him up past his lean body under his tight black suit— accentuating his buff arms and chest, up to his slicked back black hair and piercing dark eyes. You stare in slight disbelief at the man ahead, who towered over you.

“Meet John. Your new bodyguard.”

AS ATTRACTIVE AND BROODING as your new bodyguard was, he was also quiet.

Too quiet.

Unlike your previous bodyguards, John was as still as stone, completely unresponsive to any of your nasty quips, bitchy comments or snarky commands. You were lucky to receive even a word of acknowledgement, let alone a sentence.

He was your silent shadow, always standing eerily close by wherever you went. At the mall. At clubs. At the library. Even when you go to public restrooms, he stands waiting outside the door, embarrassingly dragging attention to the both of you.

“Seriously?” You grumble to yourself, adjusting your pink tennis skirt as you walk out of the ladies restroom. The older man merely looks down on you, his unreadable expression only pissing you off more.

“It’s my job.”

That was his famous catchphrase. Like a broken record, or a poor man’s Princess Bride— it was his automated response for any of your complaints. It’s his job.

You huff, tongue in cheek as you lean against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching the brooding bodyguard read a book. John’s leaning against the back of the chair, his arm resting on the countertop of the kitchen island, his veiny hand holding the book upwards as he takes a sip of coffee with his other. The palpable silence was too much for you to bear. You’ve had enough. You needed a reaction out of him— anything— literally anything other than this monotonous apathy.

Your hips sway side to side as you stroll over to John, his attention unwavering from his book. You clench your jaw, tapping your nails on the marble countertop. You take a seat next to him, and lift your leg up, resting your foot on his thigh.

Shockingly, he raises a brow— but still doesn’t look at you.

“Lace up my heels,” you demand, a smug smile on your lips, gently digging the heel of your shoe into his thigh. But he doesn’t twitch. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t even produce a sound of pain.

“You’re not a child, you can do it yourself,” his voice is low, and raspy as he clears his throat. John flips to the next page of his book and your brows stitch together, a small frown etching on your lips.

“Lace up my heels, Jack,” you repeat firmly, the taunt in your voice disappearing as you purposefully get his name wrong.

“John.”

“Whatever.”

John’s attention to his stupid book never faltered, and your annoyance boiled like bile in your chest. Clearly you’d have to try a little bit harder. You remove your foot off his lap, and let out a purposefully loud sigh.

“I’m your boss, John,” you say mockingly, “you better do what I say.”

“Your father is my boss,” his tone is painfully monotonous, if he was anyhow irritated with your bratty behaviour— he didn’t show it. “I work for him.”

There’s another tense silence casted upon the door, and you huff, jumping off your seat before storming out of the kitchen. Blinded by your temper tantrum, you missed the older man’s leering eyes on your ass as you walked away.

YOU WERE FUMING.

A whole month.

A whole thirty days he’s been your bodyguard, and you still have not managed to find out what made John Wick tick. His silent, stoic demeanour seemed impenetrable to your girlish, spoiled wit. John has bested your previous guards by the duration of his stay— most, if not all of them would have packed their bags by this point.

The sun beamed on your soft skin, exposed by the skimpy pink bikini that barely covered your breasts and left little to the imagination. Lying across the sunbed next to the glistening infinity pool, the sun suddenly disappears from your face, and you open your eyes to see John hovering over you.

“Move, you’re blocking the sun,” You roll your eyes, pulling your Cartier sunglasses above your head.

“Get dressed.”

You furrow your brows in confusion at his command.

“Your father says there’s a gala in a few hours, your attendance is mandatory.” John affirms his previous command, before he stalks away from you, his long legs carrying him far as he re-enters the penthouse. Immediately, you sit up from your sunbed, not bothering to cover your skimpy figure with a towel as you chase him.

“I don’t take orders from the help.”

“But, you do take orders from your father,” John quips, quirking a brow as he turns to face you, his staggeringly tall body looming over you. “Get dressed.”

“I don’t take orders from you, I’m not going!” You sneer, and when you attempt to walk past John, his large arm wraps around your forearm, gently but firmly pulling you backwards in front of him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Get. Dressed.”

“Get fucked, how about that?” You retort, scoffing at his audacity to tell you what to do. “I don’t take orders from the butler.” Roughly tugging your arm back, you take a challenging step closer and you can feel the warmth radiating from his suit covered body.

“Bodyguard.”

“Oh, please— you’re a glorified babysitter,” you chuckle incredulously. “All that military experience is probably a load of crap— I have half a mind to get my daddy to fire you!”

“I have half a mind to shut that mouth of yours,” John’s low voice has goosebumps swimming across your skin. He finally cracked, and now you were just waiting for the pieces to come apart. John takes a step forward, closing the distance as his chest nearly touches yours.

“What did you just say to me?” You speak quietly, your confidence slowly decreasing. A small, devious scowl creeping on his face. “I said: what did you just—”

Your words die in your throat when a sudden hand clutches your jaw, fingers digging into your cherub cheeks. A weak gasp comes out, as John pulls you closer, your exposed stomach and barely-covered breasts pressing against his lean body. His stubbled face leans down, your noses almost touch as he whispers: “I think it’s time you got a taste of your own medicine.”

“GET ON YOUR KNEES.”

Jaw dropped.

“What?”

“You heard me,” John rests against the back of the leather couch, sitting as his legs manspreading with his elbows resting on the leather couch pillows. You stood like a deer in headlights in front of him, hands on your hips, looking down at him. “Get on your knees.”

“I’m not gonna do that, are you out of your mind?!” You squeal, offendedly. John merely licks his bottom lip, his eyes focused on your hips, and thighs. “You are so fired, John! I’m telling my dad!”

“Go ahead, let your precious daddy know you made another one of his staff quit..” John shrugs nonchalantly, scratching his beard. “Your father will be pissed, and will probably cut you off.. And then who will pay for those little bikinis?”

You kiss your teeth, lips pursed as your leg bounces anxiously. He was right.

“Asshole,” you hiss under your breath as you lower yourself down to the ground, your knees scratching against the rough carpet. His penetrating stare made you sweat, a chill tingling down your spine. God, you wished you had taken that towel with you. John’s voyeuristic gaze trailed from your breasts that barely fit in your bikini top, down the curves of your hips to the swell of your ass.

“Come here,” he says slowly.

Reluctantly, you abide his words, and your hands and knees graze the carpet as you crawl over to John— like an obedient little puppy. Sitting on the heels of your foot, you rest your palm on your thighs, an exasperated huff flaring through your nose.

“You are a spoiled little girl, you know that?”

You roll your eyes.

Suddenly, pain blooms in your left cheek as a firm hand smacks across your face— not enough to hurt, but enough to shoot down your attitude, making you mewl. “Ow!”

“Aw.. did that hurt?” John leans forward, his warm breath hitting your face as you look up at him, batting your long lashes. His fingers digging into your cheeks again, holding you in place. “You want me to kiss it better?”

Your face flushes at his question, as you roll your shoulders back. The diva inside you was screaming when you nodded— but you didn’t care. You eyed the older man hungrily, the sting on your cheek had you rubbing your thighs together. Unfortunately, John noticed.

“That’s too bad.” Pushing your face away, he leans back against the couch. John subtly spreads his knees further apart, signalling you to his shiny belt buckle. Eyeing the older man hungrily, the pads of your fingers touch the cool metal as you undo his belt.

His lowered slacks reveal his flushed, hardened cock, with pre-cum already leaking from the red tip. Your hand shakily wrapped around his shaft, your whole hand unable to fit around his full girth. You stroke him gently as his lips part, a soft groan escaping. You swallow nervously, his cock throbbing in your hand when you halt your hand. Spit gathering into a small glob on your lips before stretching down onto his mushroom tip. The saliva made your movements smoother, and more confident.

“I know that mouth does more than complain,” John taunts, his large hand softly caressing the back of your head when he edges your face closer to his thick shaft. Your mouth waters as you wrap your glossy lips around his cock, your tongue flat against his tip, the salty pre-cum satisfying your tastebuds.

Relaxing your jaw to adjust to his size, you lower your head, his cock nudging against the back of your throat. Whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your hands covered, massaging the base of his cock. John grits his teeth, swallowing a groan as you begin bobbing up and down his cock. John’s hand is heavier on the back of your hand, forcing you lower on his cock till your nose is buried in his short, curly pubes— making you gag loudly.

“Does the spoiled brat need some air?” John chuckles raspily, his hand clutching your hair, pulling you back off his cock. A thick line of saliva dribbles down your chin, lips puffy as tears brim your waterline. Your jaw ached, but your tongue was desperate for more. His thumb swipes against your bottom lip, wiping away the pre-cum and spit, before shoving his thumb into your mouth. The pad of his thumb presses down on your tongue, and you gag once again.

“Spent the last month dealing with your little attitude problem,” John eyes squinted into slits, repeatedly patting your face with his other hand. “I think a little appreciation is in check.”

Like a cockdrunk doll, you nod ditzily as he switches his thumb out for the tip of his shaft.

Your father was surprised to see you wearing jeans the next day, as they covered those little bruises on your knees.

john wick taglist : @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @scream-queen-25 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers @redhotelroom. @hearteyedbambi @ilovedilfs4ever @aerangi @spacemonkeyfitz

let me know if you wish to be added/removed ♡

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #john wick smut #keanu reeves smut #nsfw.josie #bodyguard au

1K notes · View notes

shotmrmiller · 2 months

Note

dbf!price waking you up with his head in between your thighs while dad Simon is in the kitchen getting breakfast going

!!! OKAY BUT!!!

OHMYGOD!

okay since simon likes to run a bed and breakfast for the 141, he doesn't knock on their door to wake them up or anything, just lets them come out when they're ready.

which lets price slip into your bedroom unnoticed.

dbf!price spent half of the night in his bed, and the other on yours, slotted in between your legs, balls deep inside of you.

he had told you to keep it down, "you'll wake your daddy up and we don't want that, do we darling? that'll mean i gotta get out of here, and leave this pretty pussy empty."

you try, honest.

but the way he murmurs delicious filth into your ear as he splits you open with his painfully thick cock pulls the pleasured sounds from your throat unbidden.

so he clamps his hand over your drooling mouth as he folds you in half until the first rays of sunlight pour through your window.

And then he eats you for breakfast, licking up the mixture of both of your release, and the heels of your dainty feet dig into the strong muscles of his broad back as you feel the coil in your tummy about to unspool when there's a familiar knock on your door, freezing the blood in your veins.

you quickly sit up to fluff the large, pillowy comforter of yours around john to hide him under it, and throw a couple of pillows over him too.

the knock happens again, this time more insistent.

you keep your legs bent, hopefully creating a makeshift tent over john's head and frantically reach for your phone on the nightstand.

john's only warning is a gentle tug of his hair and a poignant look.

keep still.

covering him completely, you lie back and scroll through your phone.

"yeah! Come in!"

you squeeze john's head in between your thighs anxiously.

if your dad finds out about this, he's gonna skin you both.

simon sticks his head in through the door frame, and gives you a quick smile.

"mornin' sweetheart. i'm gonna go get some tea for the old man since his palate is too good f'my humble yorkshire gold. ya want somethin'?"

you tensely shake your head.

"no, i'm alright. thank you, daddy."

simon's eyes narrow a fraction, as he silently stares at you, and you're about to gnaw off your tongue from the nerves when he nods.

"alright. i'll be back soon, don't go makin' too much noise if you decide to get up— price and johnny are still asleep."

giving him a shaky laugh, you tell him to be safe as you watch him twist the thumb turn on the knob, locking the door before softly closing it shut.

simon's footsteps still ring loud and clear down the hall when you feel john's slick, warm tongue part your folds and flick your swollen clit.

oh, how he redundantly locks your door, as if the monster isn't already inside the bedroom with you.

#cbf!price #john price smut #john price x f reader

388 notes · View notes

crow-raven-crow · 4 months

Note

hi this is a very simple and kinda vague request, but i'd luv a larissa x fem reader fic involving feet or hand play? either that or something involving the reader realizing she really likes how larissa smells when she comes home from work and larissa starts to tease her and encourages her to smell her while they're fucking because of that. maybe both! hope this isn't too weird lol

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~3k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff !! teasing, NSFW, Reader receiving, g!p Larissa, hand kink, choking kink, slight marking, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, begging, praise kink, mommy kink, shape shifted dick, what a way to come back ohmygods

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The crackling fireplace painted dancing shadows against the dark walls, creating a show of golden hues just feet before you. The warmth emanating from the soft flames filled you with a peaceful comfort with each bursting ember. Soft, worn pages of a book sat in your hands, the universe that it created in your mind was almost impossible to keep up with, as it kept clouding over with thoughts of her.

The mere thought of her name casted a spell over your senses, making your heart swell and your stomach fill with butterflies. Images of her echoed through your mind, your heart quickening in pace as you did so. You were so consumed with the show of her in your mind, that the book had become long forgotten, as your eyes focused on the flickering firelight.

You felt the rumble of her laughter echo in the chambers of your mind, the softness of her touch as though it was tracing invisible patterns against your skin, the tenderness of her lips as they kissed along your body as though it was a masterpiece, the pleasure of her tongue as though she-

The metallic sound of a key turning in the lock cut through the quiet of your quarters, closing all previous thoughts and jolting you back into reality. The world outside your thoughts immediately rushed back in, leaving only the lingering emotions of them in their place. Your chest heaved slightly, a noticeable heat rushing to your face and making your whole body hot as you caught onto your most recent thoughts.

You quickly composed yourself, inhaling deeply in attempt to settle the small heat igniting within you. Standing slowly as you let out the breath, you placed your book onto the side table, the pages neglected as the fire still roared on and danced behind you. You stepped closer as the door slowly swung open, an excitement filling your chest knowing that she stood behind it. The sight of her stilled the air in your lungs, your lips parting ever so slightly as you took in her beauty.

Her white hair, almost glowing with the light of the flames behind you, was perfectly pinned in her flawless updo, each strand falling together perfectly with each other in every twist she pinned. The pin at the back of her head concealed the length of the silvery locks, but came together to show her grace and elegance all the same. The dress she wore clung onto her every curve, the sleek grey becoming a canvas to her form, allowing her sapphire eyes to pop with the cool tones. The collar of the dress flared out just enough to draw attention to her neck and the delicate lines of her collarbones. The belt that tied around her waist framed her hips in a way that made your mouth water. Gold accents adorned her wrists and neck, being the final touch of warmth that brought out the beauty of her tall frame.

As she entered the room, it was as though all the gods worked in her favor. The light from the flames lighting up her features, yet the dark colors of the room giving her command over it all if she were to say a word.

You must have been staring for too long, your eyes moving up and down along her form to drink in every detail that it snapped you back to the present when you felt her hand trace along your jawline. Her delicate fingers smoothed up the features of your face, cupping your cheek in her palm before laying a gentle kiss against your lips. It was warm, tender as though it was translating a million unsaid words: perfect.

"Hello, my dear.." Her voice was just as serene, overflowing with the happiness and love as though it were day one all over again. Her lips shadowed over your own as she spoke, delicate in all her movements as though she would break you like porcelain. The scent of her perfume overtook your senses, the intoxicating smell of her being so strong that it made your eyes roll back slightly and a deep breath of it fill your lungs.

"Hi, my love.." Your voice was just above a whisper, but running deep with the effect that she had on you. She had known for a while just how drunk you could get on the smell of her alone, and since then she made it a point to wear a little more every so often.

You allowed her to settle into your quarters, her heels quickly coming off with a distinct click of each heel. As she moved deeper into the room, all her items found their familiar homes, making your heart swell knowing this was a place of home to her. Your gaze lingered on her form, watching as comfort seemed to overtake her, her shoulders relaxing and her face coming to a content calm. It was hard not to fall in love with her all over again just at the simplest of things.

You followed behind her with two wine glasses and her favorite bottle, as she moved to sit on the couch in front of the fire. This was one of your favorite ways to unwind with her, and relishing in each others company was something that you would always cherish.

Though.. your thoughts from earlier always had a way of coming back in, especially now that she was even more of a delicious distraction being in front of you.

She spoke about her day, going through the details of her meetings and any particularly interesting emails she had to deal with today. The way she spoke with her hand was mesmerizing, easily capturing you in a trance due to your already heated thoughts about her, as your eyes devoured every detail of her long fingers. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, your breathing hitch and your mouth water as you remembered just what those fingers could do to you.. How she could so easily have you at her mercy.. digging into your flesh and leaving crescent marks in their wake, trailing along your skin and rising goosebumps with each pass, have your back arching and your hips swaying with one simple touch-

"Y/n.. Could you repeat what I just said, my dear?" Her voice shocked you back into your body, the rapid blinking of your eyes and the small jump when she had said your name giving you away immediately. She seemed amused at your blush, the pink hue only making a smirk come to her red painted lips as she caught on to where your thoughts were.

"I- U-Um.. You-" As you spoke, her fingers trailed up your arm, smoothly tracing against your skin and leaving electricity in her path. The rest of your words were cut off when her fingers made it to your collarbones, eventually curling their way around your throat and squeezing oh so gently.

The sensation made your eyes roll back as they fluttered shut, your fingertips gripping onto the hem of your skirt as you felt her move closer to your form, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "What exactly is floating through the pretty head of yours, darling?"

You could feel your heart rate pick up, especially with her fingers resting just above your pulse point, and you were sure she could feel it too. The way your thighs clenched together and how a small whimper left your throat as she squeezed harder were all signs of how the night would go.

"Your- mmph.. your fingers.." Your chest heaved in pleasureful desperation as her lips moved down your neck, her fingers pushing against your jaw and allowing her room to flatten her tongue against your skin. Arousal shot right through to your core, and she'd barely even touched you.

She pushed you down slightly, your hair sprawling out against the cushion as she shifted perfectly between you legs. Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, her tongue smoothing over your bottom lip as she pushed her hips against your core. Your gasp gave her the opportunity to explore your mouth, the opportunity to start to devour you..

Her fingers worked on the buttons of your collared shirt, quickly exposing more of your skin to her. When she reached the last button, she pulled the garment off completely and took a moment to trace over your skin, her lips gently pulling away from yours as her hands met the skin of your torso. Her fingers lightly scratched against your sides before smoothing their way up to beneath your breasts. Her thumbs worked their way under your bra, her fingertips smoothing over your nipples and causing a whimper to leave your throat.

Before long, your bra was discarded as well, her lips making their way down against your skin and leaving deep marks against it. One of your hands tangled into her hair, disrupting the perfect curls with each tug of pleasure you gave her. Once her tongue smoothed over your right bud, any hopes of staying quiet had left, the need for her building within you even before she was present. She worked on both buds, forming both into hard peaks and giving them both attention before she was satisfied.

When she moved up to capture your lips again, her gaze met blown pupils swirling with lust. You crashed your lips into hers, one hand pulling her in from the back of her neck while the other rested behind you for balance. She was quick to move you into her arms, carrying you to your bed with ease.

She sat down on the edge, placing you onto her lap after getting rid of the rest of your clothes, though slight confusion came over you when your back was to her front.

It didn't take you long to realize why, when she rested one hand back against your throat while the other toyed with your breasts. Your eyes darkened at the sight in front of you - you welcoming her fingers into your mouth with a deep moan, your legs spread open and showing your glistening folds - for the mirror in front of you gave you the best view of what was would come.

"Mmm.. you like Mommy's fingers, hmm?" You felt your brain short circuit at the sound of her voice, at the sound of her title making its way through your ears and building a home inside your rapidly beating heart. You felt the heat course through you as your tongue swirled around her digits, and it showed in the reflection that it was getting increasingly harder for you to wait the more you got drunk on her.

She pulled her fingers from your mouth with a trail of your saliva attached to the ends of them, your breathing labored and filled with lust as you looked into her eyes through the reflection. She nipped the skin of your shoulder, while her other hand traced over the marks she had already painted against you. You were so focused on her lips, that you didn't notice her hand trail down to your core, until she teased against your slit, running her fingers through your folds and making your back arch as a gasp left your lips.

You threw your head back as her fingers began circling your clit, but it didn't last long as her other hand moved your gaze back to the mirror, making you watch her fingers get coated in your slick, how they toyed with the sensitive bud with just enough pressure to make you beg for more, how they circled your entrance soon after, making you clench around nothing.

"Ple- Please- mmn gods please.." Your voice was desperate, full of lust and the undying need to feel her inside of you. It wasn't something that didn't go unnoticed, two of her fingers thrusting into you soon after and making your hips buck into her touch.

"Watch the mirror, sweet girl.. You think you can do that for Mommy?" Her voice took over your senses and felt as though it was consuming you whole. It rang out like a low, velvety rumble with promises of more as each one of her hot breaths trailed against your skin.

Fuck..

"Yes- mm~ yes.." Your half-lidded eyes turned back to the reflection, your breasts rising and falling with each of your heavy breaths as more and more pleasure ran through your body. You watched as she thrusted in and out of you, her fingers curling in just the right spot to have moans flooding out from your mouth and into the dark evening.

"Such a good girl for me.. Taking Mommy's fingers so well.. Oh, look at you.." You could tell with how dark her eyes got, how husky her voice was that this was doing something to her as well. Your body at her mercy as she brought moan after moan to escape your lips. "Good girl.."

Each of her thrusts grew rougher, quicker in pace, and your thighs began to tremble with your impending orgasm. You did your best to watch the way her fingers fucked into you, disappearing with pleasure and watching them come all the way out again, only for the motion to repeat over and over.

Her fingers curled with precision, her other hand toying with your nipples and sending your body rushing towards a peak. You clenched around her fingers hard with each thrust, loving how they felt inside of you. It was all consuming, building up the coil in your abdomen until your peak crashed into you, wrecking through your body as her ministrations didn't stop.

Your body shook with pleasure, taking every new thrust she gave you as you turned into putty in her arms.. but you couldn't help but want.. crave.. need more.. And it seemed as though she had the same thoughts.

The sight of you coming undone in front of her was too much to bare, her own heat building itself up in her body and causing her desire for you to push itself forward. She shifted you onto the mattress, watching as she discarded her clothes after licking her fingers clean. The sight made a moan escape your lips, your own cum disappearing from the actions of her tongue and her pale skin becoming completely exposed to you made your mouth water.

She settled herself between your legs and you couldn't help but pull her down, crashing your lips into hers for an all consuming kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your tongues danced together as you both nearly begged to be impossibly closer.

You pulled away, your lips centimeters away from hers. Your voice was a whisper, but translated so much urgency, so much desire that you knew she would fold when the words left your lips. "Please, Mommy.. I need you.."

Any resolve that Larissa had left faded as you watched her eyes grow impossibly darker, swirling with a hunger that was near insatiable. A growl left her throat before her lips were on yours again, though the kiss didn't last long, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt her hard member press against your core.

You immediately rolled your hips against her, earning a broken moan from the tall blonde. She moved to position herself, then slowly pushed into your entrance. Loud, unadulterated groans left you both as she pushed herself deeper and deeper into you, the stretch quickly becoming a delicious addiction.

As she started to move, it was as though all that existed was her. Each breath you took filled your lungs with her perfume, quickly making you intoxicated and full of her. Each thrust rocked your body with a deep hunger, the sound of your skin slapping together and your moans filling the room only seemed to serve you pleasure in tenfold.

"Please, please, please- I-I need-" A moan tearing through your throat had cut off your next words, her pace growing faster with each beg you were able to shoot out. Each thrust took you to new heights as she pulled nearly all the way out of you before pushing back in all the way.

"You feel so good.. Look at you taking me so well.." Her breathing was labored, her words paired with moans as her own pleasure was building itself up. Your peaks were close, her nails digging into your hips to leave crescent marks there, both of your moans growing louder.

Your mind grew hazy with the feeling of her so deep inside you, the pleasure building the coil up again as a chase towards euphoria. With a few more thrusts, you came hard, your body shuddering as you clenched around her. Her actions only continued as she chased her own high, soon letting out a deep, loud moan and filling you up, just moments later.

Your heavy breaths filled the room, your skin coated in a layer of sweat as you both focused on coming down from your highs.

She shuffled and moved to lay next to you, pulling you into her arms and tracing invisible patterns along your back. After your breathing settled, you slowly opened your eyes to meet deep sapphire ones, a smile coming to both of your lips as only love was reflected back at you.

You shuffled closer, burying your head in the crook of her neck to place soft kisses against her neck and jawline before resting completely against your lover. Your hands found their home against her skin, and the darkness of night mixed with the comfort of your lover made sleep an easy world for the both of you to slip into.

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: IMMMMM BACCCCCKK!!!!

YO IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG- the traveling got to me, and then finals season started, and then more traveling and a lot of other life things happened !!

BUT IM BACK AAHAHHAHHHH

this genuinely felt so good to write because i haven't even touched my writing in so long other that organizing everything in my notes to look better lmao

i know you all understand, and i couldnt be more grateful for that fact

here you go anon :,,,,))) im sosososo sorry for how long this took like holy fuck- i hope you enjoyed it

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

as always, feel free to ask to be added <3

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

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dilfl0v3rss · 11 months

Text

early bird

summary: on the rare occasion you wake up before ony, you decide to surprise him.

cw: sub!ony

word count: 1.2

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

you were not a morning person, but your boyfriend was. it’s almost constant that you get up hours after him. usually when you woke up, ony would be cooking breakfast or in the shower or even dressed on the couch, waiting for you to get ready so the two of you can get started with your activities for the day. so you can imagine your surprise when the first thing you noticed when you woke up today was that he was still in the bed. not only in the bed, but knocked the fuck out.

you slowly turn towards your nightstand to look at your clock and lo and behold, it was seven a.m. you had no idea why your body thought it was okay to wake you up this early, but you weren’t complaining when you got a good look at your boyfriend next to you. his black durag tied snug around his head, gold chains adorning his tattooed neck. your eyes followed those same tattoos down to his chiseled chest, moving up and down steadily as his brown nipples hardened due to the cool air in the room.

his abs were slightly submerged under the covers, but the part that was showing looked delicious. as you studied your boyfriends beautiful physique you were interrupted by his deep voice. “fuck ma.” he whimpered before shifting his body, straightening his left leg before bending his right one to his side. even as he whined, ony’s voice always kept its husky tone. your eyes drifted to his hips as they lightly bucked as if he were chasing something above them. “mhmm right there.”

when hip hips stilled you noticed the tent forming under the covers, making you gasp as you came to the shocking realization that your boyfriend, the man who made you bend to his will almost every night, was whimpering and moaning from a wet dream. his brown lips slightly parted before his bottom one disappeared behind his pearly teeth. you felt your heart begin to thumb, but not in your chest. your pussy was soaking thought your panties as you listened in on your lover’s steady breathing. “y/n…please mama.” you were becoming a bit restless watching his erection stand tall under the thick covers. he was rock hard.

“i wanna cum baby. let me cum.” your body moved on its own. slowly moving under the covers before climbing over your boyfriend’s legs. you made sure not to move around too much so he didn’t wake up as you sat in between his legs, staring hungrily at his body. he was in nothing but his boxers, dick print very noticeable as it fought with the restraints of the fabric. “ughh please baby.” you didn’t want your man to suffer anymore than he already is, so you slowly pulled at his waistband until his dick sprang free. long, brown shaft slapping against his stomach as you watched his tip leak.

ony stirred in his sleep, but quickly calmed down when you began stroking him slowly. his dick was hot to the touch, as if all of his blood was flowing through it, but you didn’t mind. you stroked with two hands since he was so long, not leaving a single part of him neglected. “ohmygod.” he moaned. a smirk immediately plastered itself onto your face as you watched his brows furrow. ony wasn’t really a man that moans. settling for dirty talk, groaning, and light curses to let you know he’s feeling good. so hearing him moan right now was a surprise to you. it was honestly your first time ever hearing it and you weren’t complaining. they were pretty and soft, as if the slightest touch could break him. ‘i wanna hear more’ was all you thought before lowering your mouth to his pink, nearly red, tip.

you started sucking him softly, using both hands to stimulate the parts you couldn’t reach. bobbing your head up and down, only stopping to let your spit slide down his dick for extra lubricant. then you were back at it, sucking, licking, and swallowing everything he had as ony stayed asleep. occasionally moaning and whining for you to continue as he dreamed. “shit m’finna cum” he whispered. you continued to move steadily , choosing not to slow down as you looked up and watched ony’s face contort into different ones of pleasure. his hips bucked up, making you gag slightly before you felt hot ropes of cum slide down your throat. you easily swallowed all of it as you sat up, watching him stir awake. “y-y/n? what you doin over here baby?”

you giggled as you watching his come to the realization that he wasn’t dreaming and you were really pleasuring him the whole time. he looked away as he also realized you must’ve heard him moaning as well. “y-you heard me didn’t you.” was all he said before you nodded slowly. you didn’t want him to feel embarrassed so you climbed up his body, settling right over his dick. “you sound pretty daddy, wanna hear more.” you pulled your panties to the side before sliding yourself onto all eight inches of his dick, not stopping until you’ve reached the bottom. “w-wait mama m’still sensit- ahh fuck” you payed him no mind as you plopped yourself onto his dick over and over again. hands resting on by both sides of his head as you watched ony’s eyes roll. his hips buck up into you, trying to get deeper than he already was. your lips curled into a pout as you realize his lip had been tucked under his teeth again. sealing his mouth to keep his moans from flowing out.

when it was you who would try to quiet your moans, ony always snatched them out of you by spanking you, stopping, or fucking you harder. you knew spanking him was completely out of the equation, but the other two options weren’t. the corner of your lips lifted as you thought of a mischievous plan to get what you wanted. ony was too lost in you to even realize what he’s gotten himself in to. you began to pick up your pace, bouncing harder and faster than you were as you watched the man under you bite his lip harder, almost drawing blood. brown eyes staring at each other as you watched it become harder for him to focus. but then you stopped. you took one more hard bounce then stilled yourself, sitting right on top of him. “if you don’t let me hear you m’not gonna let you cum.”

the roles were completely reversed as ony removed his lip from the confines of his teeth before replying. “mama cmonnn. ion want you t’hear me like this.” ony was honestly embarrassed. it was a total contrast to the rough, mean demeanor he’d have while fucking you. probably because he was just waking up and his energy was still low. “ion care let me hear you or you not cumming baby.” ony rolled his eyes as you gave him a taste of his own medicine. “ok” you decided to push your luck since he was being so stubborn. “okay what?” his eyes widened, contemplating if he should say what he knows you want to hear or if he should just try to get through the day with his dick left hard like this. eventually picking his first option since he felt that there’s no way he could go on like that. he parted his lips slowly before lowly saying the words you were so eager to hear. “okay mommy.”

“good boy”

#aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot smut #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon #onyankopon smut #onyankopon aot #aot x black reader #x black fem reader #x black reader

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soleilandpeaches · 11 months

Note

Ok, but has anyone already thought about how disgustingly rich Keigo is? I mean, the type that doesn't boast much of his money but still has ridiculously expensive things, like... a Ferrari. And you know what? Ferrari + Keigo = Sex. I feel like he would only do it when the reader has really made him jealous. I accept it, I have a kink with jealous!keigo. Creative freedom, but I need a damn car and Keigo in it hehehe. 🫣

warnings: unprotected sex, jealous!keigo, f!reader, coming inside, car sex, cursing, dirty talk, 18+ (MDNI)

“Ohhh yeah…” “You like when I fuck up into you like that, huh?” He punctuates his question with another sharp thrust, a sharp cry spilling from your lips. You have to stabilize yourself using his shoulders, nails digging into his skin leaving crescent shapes in their wake. Though he doesn’t seem to care as he tosses his head back against the headrest, eyes never leaving your face.

“Yeah that’s it, Baby.”

Smack!

“Ride that cock, cowgirl.” He chuckles at his own lame joke, yet the baritone of his voice sends pleasureful shivers throughout your body and a delicious heat pooling in your stomach.

You feel his warm hands caress the scape of your waist, smoothing over your hips and thighs as he rolls his hips into yours. The way he’s fucking you—deliciously deep and torturously slow has you whispering his name into the shell of his ear, completely unable to produce full sounds.

“Fuuck me.”

You cant take your eyes from his stupidly handsome face contorted with pleasure. He licks his lips, kissed raw and red from how roughly he handled you before. You feel his fingers curl and uncurl themselves into your skin which makes you smile—he doesn’t want to hurt you.

You’re tugged out of your reverie with another harsh jolt of his pelvis, successfully lifting you up further enough to have your hand reach out on the roof of the car, bracing yourself against it to not hit your head as you go up.

“Keigo!” You half-pant, placing your hand back down of his lap to guide him back down but he doesn’t relent. Only grabbing you by your wrist and tugging you further into his chest, opposite hand splayed against your lower back.

“Arch your back for me, Pretty.” He commands, wrapping his arm around your back as he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your palm with a loving gentleness—complete opposite to what he was doing to your body.

“They can’t fuck you like this, can they? Hm?” His voice once dripping with saccharine goodness takes a turn into something more sinister.

You shake your head no, completely overtaken with pleasure. You feel him let go of your hand to grip you by your cheeks, forcing your face down to meet his own. His thrusts don’t slow as you meet his gaze and you almost swore you saw green swimming beneath gold.

“Words, Love.” Is all he says as he shifts, angling his thrusts deeper to hit that sweet spot inside. Your words die on your throat as your lips part into a silent scream—you’re so close.

“Answer me.”

Smack!

“No!” You sob, bracing your hands against his chest as you desperately attempt to meet his thrusts with your own. The rolling of your hips quickly comes to an end as he hugs you into his body, planting his feet against the floor of his car as he fucks into you with a new found aggression.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He growls in between heaving breaths pitched moans. “‘Course they can’t.”

“Only I get to fuck you like this. Don’t I?” You’re aware he’s trying to assert his dominance, but you know deep down he’s only feigning his insecurities. Still, you indulge him.

“Only you, Keigo. I—ohmygod—only y-you.”

“Yeahh—haah—fuck!” “You gonna cum on my cock, Baby?”

You nod feverishly against his chest, biting down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder as to somewhat stabilize yourself of the onslaught of abuse.

“Fuck! Me-me too.”

His fingers curl into your hair as he pulls you away from his neck. He brings his face down to meet yours for a serious of passion-filled and pussy-drunk kisses. His kisses become messy and wet as he nears his climax. Then, lips coming to part against your mouth as he pants and whispers obscenities against your own, struggling to kiss you back.

“M’ so fucking close, Angel—holyshit—m’ so close.”

His thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated as they pick up in pace. The echoing slaps of skin paired with the rattling and thumping of his rocking car has your face heating even hotter in embarrassment. If anyone were to walk by and see, it wouldn’t take two seconds to know what was going on.

His fingers snake in between your bodies, moving quick circles into your clit. The pressure of hit cock repeatedly punching against your G-spot paired with his skilled hands has you twitching. Stars dance beneath your eyelids as you feel your release drench his lap, crying out once you feel his own cum spill into you. He always fills you up so nicely.

“Shit, Baby.” You glance down to his fucked-out face. His grin is wide, wide enough to see the gleam of his white teeth and dotted dimples. His face is flushed, all the way down his bruised neck and heaving chest. His once perfectly messy-kept hair is now tousled and sweaty along his hairline.

He meets your gaze with his own, ogling you as you are to him. He clearly enjoys what he sees as he brings a hand to your cheek, thumb rubbing back-and-forth just underneath your eye.

“You don’t know what you do to me, Sweetheart.” He sighs followed by another kiss. Although, this one is sweet and gentle, the kind that has you melting into the palm of his hand as he continues to rub circles into your skin.

He releases you with a chuckle after you continue to try and kiss him, but he stops you with a thumb to your lips.

“Lemme treat you to something, hm? After all, you did so good for me.” He kisses you one more time, pulling away to take you in with another sigh, eyes almost glowing with the love he has for you.

“Pretty girl.”

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 6 months

Text

Two Hands To Hold ║ ⓛⓘⓜⓘⓣⓔⓓ ⓢⓔⓡⓘⓔⓢ

║TWO HANDS TO HOLD: a Liquid Gold prequel || main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!reader x Tommy Miller

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 9.2k | CONTENT: backstory for LIQUID GOLD aka how reader ended up with both Miller brothers, lots of plot sandwiched between smut, inexperienced virgin learns stuff, established relationship vibes, Joel is a slut, Tommy is a softboi slut menace, infidelity, degradation, praise kink like whoa, exhibitionism, lots of cum, cum is everywhere, for the love of god why is there so much cum in this fic

| SYNOPSIS: When wanting something means risking everything, how much are you willing to take the hands of two brothers and let them lead the way?

The mixture of what was supposed to be dinner had probably scalded to the bottom of the pot by this point. You might’ve cared more if you were further into your recipe, but you hadn’t added any of the scarcer ingredients yet so it wasn’t too wasteful.

You should’ve known that running upstairs for a quick second to grab a sweater wasn’t going to be quick at all since Joel was home. He’s fresh out of the shower with a towel slung low around his waist. You warn him you have to get back downstairs before dinner burns, but you both know there’s no conviction in your tone. You don’t really care too much about dinner when Joel’s mouth is on your neck and his hands are groping at your backside.

“I can do quick,” he murmurs. “Problem is you never like it when Daddy doesn’t take his time with that needy little pussy of yours.”

You groan and arch into him, incapable of producing any argument to his charge. You could never get enough of him, and he liked it that way. Your appetite for pleasure was equally matched by his, and you found yourself more often than not stuffed to the brim with his fingers or his cock. He makes quick work of your clothes, ignoring your weak grumbling that this was only going to make you even colder than when you first came upstairs to get a sweater.

You forget all about the chill when he’s got you on all fours and is burying himself into you. You shiver when a rush of cool air gusts through the window you hadn’t realized was open.

“Joel!” you hiss. “The fucking window is open!”

“Mmmm, suddenly afraid somebody’s gonna hear you screamin’ for this cock?” he taunts. “Like they ain’t heard it a million times before with how loud you get?”

Your walls flutter around him at the idea of being heard or seen by someone when he’s fucking you so hard it punches the air from your lungs when he bottoms out. Joel of course notices.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Like the thought of somebody seein’ you be such a good hole for me?” he grunts, pulling your back flush against his chest. He drives himself even harder into you as you cry out.

“Ohmygod,” you rasp as his tip slams into the deepest parts of you.

“Bet you’d let me pull anybody from the street just to have ‘em watch you take this cock,” he grunts.

Your body gives your feelings away yet again when a crackled, needy moan slithers up your throat.

“Yeah, bet you’d want ‘em to do more than watch, huh?” he pants. “Bet you’d want to take their cock too after I’m done usin’ you up.”

“Fuck!” you whine, getting closer to coming just thinking about somebody else taking from your body after Joel has finished splitting you on his cock.

Joel laughs, dark and low. “Learnin’ somethin’ about you, honey. Didn’t know you were that type’a girl. Wantin’ all of Daddy’s friends to use your holes, huh?”

Your climax grips at the base of your spine and explodes into your lower belly. You let out a wail of pleasure as Joel thrusts harder, fucking you through your high while he chases his own. He empties into you with three forceful drives and slumps on top of you where you’d crumpled into the bed below.

You barely manage a sigh as he pulls out. You stay like that while you hear him head downstairs, probably to turn off the burned dinner before it starts a house fire. Your head gets fuzzier and your lids get heavier as you listen to him walk back upstairs and get dressed.

A gentle press of lips against your temple rouses you. It’s much darker outside than it had been just a moment ago. The open window has been closed, and the inky sky outside looks like a framed postcard.

“I know it’s always a good one when you pass out right after,” he chuckles, peppering soft kisses to your temple and scalp.

“Dammit, didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you grumble in a slur. You push yourself up from the bed and roll over. Your brow pulls when your hand grazes past the fabric of panties. “When did—”

“Slid ‘em on you so you keep me inside,” he grins. “Now get dressed so we can get goin’. Gonna see to somethin’ tonight.”

“We’re going somewhere?” you mumble, still trying to orient yourself from the haze of sleep.

Joel nods and gestures to the pile of clothes he divested you of earlier. “Go on now, and don’t let any of my cum outta ya.”

You grin back at him and scoot to the edge of the bed. “I take it dinner burned?”

He laughs and confirms it was “probably easier to just toss the whole pot at this point” than try to scrub the burnt bits off.

You lean in for a kiss before dressing yourself. He watches you as he has the tendency to do. You straighten your shirt and hair before announcing that you were ready to head out. You bite back a smile at the feeling of your weeping cunt spilling out what Joel had filled you with earlier with each step you take towards Main Street. When he gives you a knowing nudge and smirk, you knock your hip against him playfully.

“You know I like how it feels,” you huff with empty indignation.

Joel breaks into a real smile at your raw honesty. “And you know I like you walkin’ around with me drippin’ outta you.”

It hadn’t always been this way. You hadn’t always felt more comfortable with exploring or even acknowledging your wants and needs. Your entire life had mostly been listening to and following others so you wouldn’t die. You remember bits and pieces from Outbreak Day in complete clarity, but you mostly remember how you felt: scared, abandoned, and burdensome. And that was before everything concerning the infection had even happened.

It was your birthday. You sat on the front porch for hours even though deep down you knew she wasn’t going to show. When your grandmother finally made you come inside so the neighbors wouldn’t see and start getting nosy, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to cry.

It was another year that your mom had missed your birthday – or any day that remotely mattered to you or celebrated you in any way. You’d known it wasn’t going to happen. It’s probably why your stomach had felt funny and clenched hard with nerves to the point that you’d thrown up a few times first thing that morning.

Your grandmother wasn’t too happy about it. She’d had to call out of work and was clearly frustrated and stressed about missing her shift. It always seemed like anything to do with you was always upsetting to your grandparents. Years later you understood a bit better why becoming the sole guardians to their teenage daughter’s baby at the age of 39 wasn’t exactly the future they’d hoped or planned for.

Your mom’s “troubled years” as they’d put it had turned out to be more extensive and consequential than they realized at the time. At a certain point, there’s no going back and fixing it. Giving birth to a baby girl at 17 and then disappearing altogether before she’d turned 18, your mom didn’t want to take on the responsibility of you. No one really seemed to want the responsibility of you.

So, you tried your best to listen. You tried your best to follow the rules. You had your mother’s reputation and history hanging over your head like a black cloud, and your grandparents were constantly reminding you of all the things you shouldn’t be - all the things your mom was. Irresponsible, promiscuous, attention-seeking, shameful, demanding, difficult…..

Your grandmother in particular seemed to believe that if they had attended church more regularly as a family, maybe your mom would’ve turned out “a better girl.” Your grandfather only went on holidays to make your grandmother happy, but he never disagreed that your mom could’ve used something to make her more obedient with better morals and fewer sinful indulgences.

You went to church a lot with your grandmother - any Sunday morning she wasn’t working - and you wondered if you would ever satisfy the debt of being the corporeal amalgamation of all your mother’s faults. A daily reminder of failed virtues and someone who had lost their way. You could do all the good in the world, but you would still be the product of failure and immorality.

And yet, every child wishes for their parents to notice them, to care about them. No one knew your father’s identity - including your mother - but he had to exist out there, somewhere. Sometimes you let yourself imagine that he never even knew there was a potential child of his out there in the world and maybe that’s why he’d never reached out or tried to be a part of your life.

Your mother was sick a lot, at least that’s what your grandparents told you. “She’s not well right now enough to see you” was something you’d heard many times. Whenever you asked what kind of sick she was, they didn’t ever have a clear answer. You’d thought that maybe if you knew what kind of sick she was, you could all figure out a medicine for her or do something to help her get better. When you’d suggested as much to your grandfather, he gave you a hard frown and sad eyes.

“Listen, why don’t you go watch something on the TV, huh?” your grandmother suggested when you obeyed her instruction to leave the porch and come inside.

“Can’t I sit at the window?” you politely asked. “I’ll keep behind the curtains so the neighbors don’t see.”

She gave you one of those sad, resigned looks you recognized more often the older you got. Now on your 7th birthday, you’d gotten pretty good at spotting them even if you didn’t always know why they looked at you that way.

“She’s not coming, doll baby,” your grandmother sighed. “I’m sorry. I know she said on the phone last week she was gonna come stay for a few days, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

You pressed your lips together tight and nodded. No use in making a big deal out of it and stressing your grandmother out more than she was for having to miss work on account of you having tummy troubles. You watched the TV for a while – more like stared unfocused at it as it flashed scenes in front of you – and couldn’t help but hope every time the phone rang that it was your mom calling to apologize for running late and explain that she was still coming.

The phone was ringing more and more as the day went on, and your grandmother seemed more unsettled after each conversation. Lunchtime came and went, but you settled for an apple from the counter so you didn’t bother your grandmother for a proper lunch. At some point she shooed you away to your room to play so she could watch something “not for kids” on the TV. The deep voice from the TV seemed to become more frenzied as the day went on, too.

Your grandfather came home early, but it hadn’t anything to do with celebrating your birthday. You were instructed by them to eat dinner from whatever you wanted in the pantry, and it wasn’t too bad of a birthday present. You hadn’t received one yet today, so you felt safe to assume a free pass at whatever you wanted from the junk food was your present. You’d wished your stomach wasn’t so tight with worry so you could actually eat something. They sent you to bed early, too distracted with whatever was happening to realize you hadn’t eaten.

You woke up hungry and quietly got up from bed to check the clock in the kitchen to see if it was still your birthday and maybe try to sneak an apple. Your grandparents were in the living room in front of the static screened TV, sharing hushed whispers as you tried to make out their conversation from the hallway. You couldn’t take it anymore and made your presence known. You might get in trouble for interrupting them, but you had to know if something bad had happened to your mom and if that’s why they seemed so upset.

They exchanged a heavy look. You can still see it in your mind’s eye to this day. Even as a child you knew it was something devastating even though you couldn’t yet understand it was the moment they both stopped to realize they didn’t know where their daughter was, if she was safe, and, at the rate horrible things were transpiring with the mystery infection, they probably weren’t ever going to see her again.

All three of you slept in the basement for a few days, starting the night of your birthday. You kept quiet and didn’t even complain about the only food down there being nut packs and expired dinner crackers. You were too afraid to ask why you couldn’t leave the basement. You were too afraid to ask if your mom was okay. You were too afraid to ask if your grandparents were upset with you and why.

When the uniformed men came and swept the house for inhabitants, you didn’t ask questions. You didn’t say you needed to use the bathroom. You didn’t argue when they instructed you to sit on the floor of the large black vehicle.

Over the years in the QZ, you never dropped your habit of keeping out of the way and doing what you were supposed to do. Over the years in the QZ, your grandparents never dropped their habit of drilling it into your head that you were to follow the rules and not “attract any unwanted attention” to yourself.

When the son of a high-up QZ FEDRA officer took a liking to you, it sent you into a panic. It scared you to like him back. He was sort of nice and smiled at you sometimes. You felt shame gnawing at you when you dreamed about him being your first kiss. You woke up horrified that even if your conscious mind knew better than to entertain indecent thoughts about boys, your unconscious mind was determined to make you a morally bankrupt person, just like your mother. You didn’t know what to do other than to avoid him at all costs.

He caught on that you were giving him the cold shoulder, and suddenly the smiles and friendliness turned into scowls and rude comments under his breath about you being a “stuck up bitch.” You wanted to tell your grandparents, but that would mean admitting to having bad thoughts about a boy. They didn’t need that stress.

When your grandfather got reassigned to a heavy labor, lower paying job by direct order from FEDRA higher ups, he was at a complete loss as to what he’d done or who he’d pissed off. You kept your shameful secret to yourself - that you and your uncontrollable want had been the reason for his punishment. You watched your grandfather get weaker and age more rapidly, thanks to his demanding work.

He’d finally had enough, and that’s when you all fled in the QZ under the cover of darkness. Yet again something bad that was a direct result of your innate impurity. You kept your shameful secret and kept quiet. You were warned endlessly by them both to not wear anything fitted, to keep your hat on, and to not speak.

“If anyone knew we had a teenage girl with us, we’d be the target for some bad things,” they’d explained plainly. Your femininity, your body, the pleasure others could derive from your body. All a liability.

You bounced around from place to place. Your grandfather’s health got worse. He passed that first winter. Your grandmother was never the same once he died. You still think it was a broken heart that ultimately killed her.

A single thread of your want had stitched this tapestry of misery and death. When you were accosted by Jackson’s patrol as you were trying to form a makeshift camp in the powerplant building next to the dam, you sort of wished the dogs would just tear you to pieces right then and there.

Instead, your work ethic and cooperative attitude landed you with a permanent residency in the Jackson settlement. You never turned down requests for hard labor or jobs other people didn’t want. You always said yes. You never made requests or developed preferences. Everyone praised your agreeable, undemanding personality. You were too afraid to want, so you didn’t. That is, until Joel Miller showed up.

He commanded your attention from the moment you laid eyes on him. It scared you how much you yearned to know him. How much hearing his voice settled something knotted in the depths of your chest. How much you worried about him when he left for patrol after you memorized his schedule. How much seeing him easy around his also incredibly handsome brother Tommy made your heart drip like acid into your stomach.

You watched him endlessly from the kitchen in the cafeteria where you’d ended up working most regularly. You had a knack for cooking, it turns out, and the early and odd hours never bothered you. You knew what foods he liked best after noticing what he ate most of. You began to pick up on all his little physical quirks.

It was a one-sided obsession, something that could never be indulged. It was bad enough wanting something. You knew that wanting something meant risking everything. It wasn’t safe to want. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself; however, going after that want was a line you weren’t going to cross.

Fortunately for you, Joel didn’t have the same sort of hang-ups you did. Your hand shook as you scooped all his preferred foods onto his plate without direction.

“You gonna ask me if that’s what I want?”

It was the first thing he’d ever said directly to you. Your eyes went wide when you realized you’d been in such a rush to give him all his favorites so he could sit down to a nice meal that you hadn’t even stopped to ask him what he wanted. You already knew what he wanted, but now you’d outed yourself to him.

“I-I can get you something–something different. I’m sorry,” you offered, completely flustered.

He shook his head and gave a lopsided grin. You felt like you could throw up at any moment. “Never said it wasn’t what I wanted. I was just wonderin’ if you were gonna ask me or if I was just s’posed to take what ya gave me,” he drawled in a lazy, amused voice.

Your face was on fire as you stood frozen to the spot. When you didn’t answer, he chuckled low to himself and shook his head.

“M’just teasin’ you, honey,” he exhaled in a laugh.

You felt ready to combust at his easy talk and effortless magnetism. You couldn’t make your tongue move to speak.

“Unless of course you don’t want me to be teasin’. Maybe you wanna trade places and instead of askin’ you what ya want you can just see what I’ve got to give ya,” he murmured, leaning closer to speak lower.

You dropped the serving spoon straight into the food, turned on your heel, and scurried like a frightened animal back into the kitchens. You tried to catch your breath as you leaned against the wall, but the throbbing between your legs was overwhelming.

One of the other workers came back to check on you, and you managed to explain you needed to go. You’d completely embarrassed yourself in front of Joel, and you needed to get back to the privacy of your boarding house room to wallow in your humiliation.

You’d made it not even a third of the way home when he called after you. Once again, you froze in place. His voice, his commands, whipped you into some sort of dazed stillness. He approached with his hands up in a gesture of good faith.

“Hey now, m’sorry if I misread the signals back there,” he offered up quickly. “I couldn’t take much more of you starin’ at me every meal and thought you were waitin’ for me to make the first move, is all.”

Your jaw felt slack, a contrast to your rigid frame. He took a few steps closer to you when you didn’t appear to consider bolting away from him again.

“If I came on too strong or misread somethin’, I apologize, okay? M’not tryna make you uncomfortable, so m’sorry if I did.”

You shook your head again, trying to rattle some combination of words together instead of standing there like an idiot. When he started up with more apologies even though he’d done nothing wrong, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“You didn’t eat,” you blurted out.

His head inched back in surprise at the unexpected reply. He laughed a bit in confusion and ran a hand through his hair like he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to respond to that. The throbbing in between your legs was making a strong return.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’ve put up with worse than a missed meal,” he finally responded. “Look, lemme walk ya home and smooth this whole thing over, yeah?”

You nodded and took the first few clumsy steps of what would end up being the most life-altering walk you’d ever taken. When you made it to your doorstep, you’d promised him you would ask next time. Your heart stuttered when he countered that he was “just fine takin’ what you’re willin’ to give him.” A silly, loose grin crept across the line of your mouth.

The next few weeks you started requesting menu changes so that Joel’s favorites were always served on days he had patrol. It felt like something you could give him, something he would want. When he asked you to take your break and dine with him, you said yes. It was something you could give him, something he wanted. When he started walking you home from work on a regular basis, he asked all sorts of questions about your life, and the truth of it all came too easy from your lips. It was something you could give him, something he wanted.

He never made a negative comment, shared a judgemental observation, or seemed to care about any bad parts of you. He eventually started sharing parts of his life, too, and for once you felt like maybe everyone made mistakes and it wasn’t just you who was a singular point of disappointment and wrongdoing. When he started to hold your hand on the walks home, you held his back all the more tightly. It wasn’t even something you had to consider.

It didn’t take you long to realize that if Joel wanted something from you, he could have it.

But when he asked one night if you wanted him to kiss you, you froze up again. There it was. The trap of wanting. You wanted him. You wanted him to have all of you. You wanted to be everything and anything for him. You never allowed yourself to linger on what you wanted from him. He assumed you were nervous because you’d never been kissed. When he said he wanted you to be honest with him, you told him everything.

“Tell ya what,” he said softly. “I’m gonna kiss you, and you’re gonna tell me if it feels wrong to want it after I’m done.”

You agreed. And then his lips were on you, so gentle and warm, and you never wanted it to stop. It ignited something in you that scorched through your veins. Joel was your first everything. He taught you to say no. He made you use your words. He met each new desire of yours with feverish enthusiasm. He never dulled your light, only ever made it swell and burn hotter and brighter.

You came to understand that there was nothing wrong with wanting. There was nothing wrong with desiring. It didn’t matter what lewd or obscene fantasy you expressed to him, he always welcomed it and made it come alive. Being an object of his desire wasn’t a shameful thing. Wanting him to have his way with you didn’t make you any less virtuous. Expressing your needs and chasing them with abandon wasn’t harmful or wrong. Liking it when he got rough and grunted the dirtiest things into your ear didn’t make you undeserving of tenderness and care.

You hated to think of all the years you wasted on being ashamed for simply existing, for having the sort of cravings and urges that humankind has always had. To be loved. To be accepted for who you are. To get lost in someone else. To make your body feel good. To make your mind feel good.

It never felt wrong, not with Joel.

So when you make it to the Tipsy Bison with his cum dripping out of you and starting to dry between your thighs as it soaks through your panties, it feels right. Instead of a rush of shame coursing through you, you feel a flood of arousal and anticipation when he says he’s gonna see to it that you get to show him how much of a slut you want to be. Your breath hitches when he instructs you to go to the bathroom, lock the door, and wait for three knocks.

“I’m gonna send somebody in there with you, and you’re gonna let him inside that locked bathroom with you so that you can suck him off, you understand?” he growls low in your ear.

You pull back, wide-eyed with nerves and excitement. Joel smirks and drags the side of your face next to his mouth so you can hear him. “Only ever had my cock, and you wanna get greedy for more. So you’re gonna shove somebody else’s cock into your mouth since you wanna get used so bad.”

“Fuck,” you whimper to yourself. You’d still be drenched from this exchange alone even without Joel’s spend leaking out of you.

“Go on. I wanna see if my girl is as greedy a slut as I think she is,” he hums into your ear before giving your earlobe a quick nibble.

You practically hobble to the bathroom, trying to focus on walking in a straight line. Hopefully the other patrons think you’re drunk instead of just keyed up from the thought of being used. You don’t know who will be knocking, but you don’t feel unsafe in the slightest. Joel would never put you in a bad position. He wouldn’t push you for something if you weren’t ready.

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you wait inside one of the three single use bathrooms. You try to think of who it’ll be that Joel sends. You go through all of the possibilities in your head and can’t seem to decide who Joel would trust alone with you.

Your nerves start to get the better of you when you realize you’re really doing this. The self-doubt creeps in. What if you only thought this was what you wanted but in reality can’t perform? What if he doesn’t enjoy it? You’ve only ever been with Joel, and you know different partners must have their own preferences.

A fleeting thought to leave the bathroom and tell Joel this was all just a big mistake crosses your mind. You don’t want to embarrass yourself, and, worse, you don’t want to embarrass Joel. Maybe it was best if you just put this off until some other time. Joel might be disappointed, but you’d prefer that over making him look foolish.

Just as you're wrestling with your nerves, three knocks sound on through the other side of the door. You hesitate for a moment but realize there’s no other way out but through the door. You have no choice either way to see who’s waiting on the other side.

You turn the lock and open the door, stepping back so that whoever your mystery man is can make his way in. You don’t register at first the owner of curly black hair and broad shoulders. Your heart plummets when you realize it’s Tommy.

“Oh. Oh my god. Um. I’m done in here, so you can… oh my god… okay…”

Your mind is firing off in a million different directions. What is Tommy going to think of his brother’s girl just letting anybody into the same locked bathroom as her? You scramble to make some excuse so he’s not suspicious, but you come up short. You’ve spent enough dinners at his house to know he can probably see straight through whatever lie you were about to shill.

“You gettin’ cold feet on me, sweetheart?” Tommy teases, flicking the lock closed before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the door.

“I–wait. What?” Your mouth drops open. Surely Joel didn’t… “You mean… but… what about…. He told you……” You were too bewildered with the situation to pick which question you wanted to ask first.

“You think my brother is gonna send just any loser in here with you?” he snorts. “C’mon now. He’s a dumb bastard every now and then, but he ain’t gonna send anybody he doesn’t trust 100% to be alone with ya.”

That aspect of it made complete sense to you, but you wouldn’t have ever considered Tommy because of–

“Maria? She’s-She’s here! I saw her earlier. You… Aren’t you…..?” you balk in a strained whisper.

“Yeah, she’s here. Her and a bunch of other people, too. So I guess that means you can’t be as loud as you like to be,” he needles with a cocky grin. “S’alright, I got somethin’ to keep your mouth occupied.” He flashes a devilish wink, and for a split second you forget all about your nerves.

“But-But what about… I’ve never…..”

You can hardly form a coherent thought. Joel sending Tommy made sense. You’d always found him attractive, and Joel knew that. He’d even teased you a few times about if you wanted to switch up which Miller brother you wanted to be with when he was being a pain in the ass. You didn’t think he’d ever act on it. Just like you never thought Tommy would step out of his marriage.

“But you love Maria,” you counter in a weak appeal.

“I do. So that means you must be somethin’ real special for me to have a wanderin’ eye. You ain’t comin’ home with me at the end of the night, but that don’t mean we can’t have somethin’ together in the meantime.”

You aren’t sure how you feel about doing something with a married man. It wasn’t you who made the vows, but it still felt wrong anyway. You try to weigh the heavy conundrum of whether or not this is something you’d be able to stomach after all is said and done.

“Hey now,” Tommy says softer, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for your hand. “Joel told me this was a surprise, but if it’s too much there ain’t no shame in walkin’ away. Nobody’ll be upset with ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His hand was smaller than Joel’s but felt warmer, softer somehow. A gentle cradle for your own. It felt nice. Different, but nice. Your eyes fix on the point where his thumb runs small circuits along yours, and it gives you somewhere to train your focus enough to get a thought out straight.

“It’s not that,” you deny in a shy voice.

“So what is it? ‘Cause this was somethin’ meant to be fun for everybody, okay? I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. He sounds so much like Joel.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you assert. “I just-it’s me. It’s nothing to do with you. I’m just– I wasn’t thinking when I said that stuff about having somebody else. I-I don’t even know what I’m doing except for with Joel. I don’t even have any-any other experience.”

Your face is on fire again, and you wish you could just shut up instead of hitting Tommy with all of these embarrassing, trivial confessions.

“So, what? You got performance anxiety or somethin’?” he laughs under his breath. “Ain’t rocket science, sweetheart. A warm mouth on a pretty girl is as good a place as any for a guy to wet his dick.”

You shake your head and look away. “I’m just gonna mess it up.”

Tommy’s other hand cups the back of your neck to tilt your head until you’re looking at him again. His face is tender but serious.

“You take good care of my brother, sweet girl. He’s the happiest I’ve seen him in god knows how long. It means a lot to me knowin’ he’s got somebody like you lookin’ after him. If you can get somebody like my brother in as good a place as he’s in, you ain’t the sorta fuck up you think you are. Nothin’ short of a miracle worker as far as I’m concerned,” he presses.

There’s not a hint of insincerity or exaggeration in his voice or face. The sentimentality catches you off guard. When your throat starts to feel hot and tight, an all new way to embarrass yourself emerges. You hastily sniff away your nerves and emotions and hope that Tommy doesn’t think less of you for it.

“Quit your cryin’ and c’mere,” he gently chides.

He hugs you against his body, wrapping both arms around you and cupping the back of your head with one of his hands as he captures your mouth in a soft kiss. He’s so gentle compared to Joel, so much more measured and rhythmic. Even early on in your physical relationship, there was always the electric undercurrent of something raw and hungry radiating from him. Tommy has a kinetic intimacy with every slip of his tongue and grip of his hand on your body.

You’re grabbing onto his collar desperately by the time he props you up on the sink and runs his mouth along the column of your neck, nipping and suckling in equal fervor and restraint. You swallow down the whines and whimpers he pulls all too easily from you.

“Make such pretty sounds,” Tommy rasps into your hair. “Gonna do this another time so I can hear ‘em loud as you wanna make ‘em.”

Your legs instinctively move together to soothe the building ache in your panties, but Tommy’s body keeps them parted.

“My sweet girl gettin’ hot ‘n bothered from a little neckin’?” he teases.

It’s pointless to lie since he clearly already knows how responsive you are to such little physical toying. You nod silently and chew your bottom lip.

“I like it, sweetheart. Like you a lot,” he professes in a calm consideration of you.

“I like you, too, Tommy,” you breathe. Your gaze travels down to the growing bulge in his crotch. You absentmindedly lick your lips.

“Got a nice mouth, too,” he muses. “Open up and lemme see it.”

Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and let your tongue drop. Your breath catches when Tommy runs his pointer and middle fingers together along it towards your throat. His eyes sear into the visual of feeding his fingers deeper into your mouth.

“See what we’re workin’ with here,” he says under his breath to himself. He inches along until his fingertips make your throat spasm. His eyes darken at the sound of it. He slowly draws them back out and breathes out a deep exhale.

“Sorry,” you apologize in a tiny voice. Heat pools in your lower belly.

“Nothin’ we can’t work on,” he husks, the corner of his lip twitching up.

His hands squeeze and rub downwards until he reaches your waistband, and you lift your hips when he starts tugging everything from your bottom half down. He yanks one side completely free from your leg, leaving your pants and panties hanging off the other thigh. He groans when he sees the thick, milky fluid dribbling from your hole.

“Been busy, I see,” he chuckles. He finally sets his focus to your face again after a gluttonous feast of your half naked form.

“I’m supposed to keep it inside,” you quietly explain.

Tommy nods and grins in approval. Something about him seeing the results of you and Joel’s earlier activities makes your pulse run thready.

“Looks like I got some catchin’ up to do,” he figures.

“But I’m supposed to—”

He lifts your shirt up, exposing your bare breasts and peaked nipples, and pays no mind to your call to get to what you’re meant to do inside the locked bathroom. Your body jerks when he rubs his thumbs across your nipples. You choke back and moan and focus on keeping quiet.

“You always so sensitive?” He chews his lip like he’s trying to keep from grinning too wide.

“N-No,” you lie. “I can be–sometimes I’m–” You shake your head, trying and failing to portray yourself as something other than an eager, all too easy to dismantle neophyte.

“Don’t hafta lie to me, sweetheart,” he’s quick to remind you. “I don’t want you to be what you think I want you to be. I want you to just be you. Understand?”

“Okay. Yes,” you concede. You know he’s not trying to call you out to embarrass you, but you still get an urge to hide away.

“M’serious. Joel doesn’t love you because you pretend to be somethin’ else for him. He loves you because you let him in and show him all of you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, nerves and want burning through you. Every time your thoughts start racing off in any given direction, Tommy pulls you back to the buzzing thrum of just being close to one another in the moment.

Joel tended to grab hold of you and wrap you up in a frenzy so fast that you didn’t have time to think too long on things that worried you. Tommy brought that clarity, too, except with a firm but tender guiding hand. Both left your mind quiet with nothing but the awareness of the space you shared with them.

“You gonna let me see it all, too?” he prods. He works your nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers, pinching and pulling when you don’t answer straight away.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your eyes flutter shut at his encouragement, awash in the warm feeling it blankets you in. He crowds you against the vanity mirror and continues working over you.

“Touch yourself,” he grunts. You comply immediately and moan at the almost instant pull of your orgasm that’s been building the longer Tommy has hedged his way into your inner workings.

“Bet you can come just like this,” he wagers in a strained focus. “Keep playin’ with yourself ‘til you come, sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you give it to me.”

Your brow pinches, your jaw limp as you choke back all the sounds clawing up from your chest. He grabs at your nipples so hard you jolt forward, nose to nose as he stares you down, and the coil in your belly snaps. He clamps one hand over your mouth to stifle the cries of bliss erupting from you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he goads. His eyes are dark with something deprived and ravenous. You grab at his wrist where his hand muffles your sounds, desperate to latch onto him, to be closer somehow.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” he breathes.

Without warning he hooks a hand under your bare knee and pulls you sideways until your back lays awkwardly against the sink and counter, your bare leg dangling off the edge. He directs you to wedge your legs open while he unbuckles his belt and frees his weeping cock from his jeans. He strokes himself hungrily and tells you to sit still.

Your breath heaves your chest up and down as you watch him run the tip of his length up your folds and notch himself at your entrance. It eases inside the tiniest bit, and a hungry moan rips from your chest.

“Shit!” Tommy hisses when he feels your walls clench around the tip of him, greedy and trying to pull him in further. “Gonna hafta to talk to Joel ‘bout lettin’ me get into this cunt.”

“Please please please,” you chant.

God, you hope Joel would let him. You hope he would be there and watch you get used by somebody else, pliant and yielding to whatever was being done to you.

Tommy slips the ridge of his tip slowly out of you. “Squeeze it out,” he pants.

He holds himself at the base of his cock, waiting for you to contract your muscles hard enough for Joel’s leftover cum to leak out onto his tip. You push a few times and feel the warm slip of it ease out of your hole.

“Give your mouth somethin’ it’s used to, to start,” he grunts. He holds his cock steady and brings it to your mouth. You gape your mouth open without any prompting. Tommy slides his cum covered cock past your lips and instructs you to clean it off. You work your tongue around his head and drink in Joel’s residual spend.

“Get it all, sweet girl. There you go. Give you somethin’ familiar before I get you acquainted with the next cock that’s gonna ruin you.” He laughs to himself when you moan at the promise of being used by him.

You open your mouth as wide as you can to show him you’ve satisfied his command. He smiles down at you with a soft reverence you’ve seen so many times from Joel. Your eyes go wide, waiting anxiously to do anything you can to make Tommy feel good.

“Gonna see if we can get you some practice on that throat, sweetheart,” he forewarns you. He gives himself a few languid strokes and searches your face for any of the hesitation from earlier.

“Can you come in my mouth?” you urge in a sweet, meek voice that contradicts the crude request you’re making.

Tommy groans and shoves his length into your mouth again. He holds onto the back of your head and tilts it in a bobbing motion onto his cock. He wasn’t as thick to take as Joel, but he had a curve to his that presented its own challenge to swallow down fluidly. He drives far enough that you start to choke and gag, which only sends renewed arousal between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls. He scoops you up from the counter and plants your feet onto the ground. You scramble to your knees, ignoring the cold sting of the tile against your bare knee. You grab at Tommy’s thighs and move your mouth against his crotch. You lick and suck at his balls and the underside of his length. You’re overwhelmed with the urge to please please please. There’s a compulsion to give yourself over to Tommy and let yourself get lost in the gratification of gifting him a flurry of euphoria.

He claws at the crown of your head for you to take him into your mouth again. You oblige and try to swallow him down as far as you can. He groans above you, sounding closer to his own release the more you work him. You’re glad to have him filling your mouth enough that you don’t have to put as much effort into being quiet. The slippery dregs of your squelching saliva gather on your lips and chin.

Tommy pulls you off of him, panting and grinning wildly at you with a sort of worshiping awe. You can only imagine how much of a slobbery, disheveled state you’re in.

“Makin’ a mess,” he pants in a laugh. He cups his fingers against your face and scoops your spit back into your mouth. “I think you like makin’ a mess.”

He laughs when you eagerly nod up at him. “Can’t send you out too sloppy this time around, sweetheart, but next time I’m gonna make sure you’re a fuckin’ wreck.”

Your face lights up at the promise that this won’t be the last time you get to have him like this.

“S’alright. We can get a little messy before I fuck my cum into your mouth.” He crouches down and inserts two fingers into you. Your entire body clenches at the abrupt intrusion. You can feel him curve his fingers inside you and drag them down and out.

“Empty your mouth,” he instructs as he stands straight again. You swallow all of your spit down until your mouth isn’t so coated in fluids. Tommy takes the fingers he’d just plunged into your pussy and scrapes them against your tongue and teeth. You taste Joel’s cum as it accumulates.

“Don’t swallow it. Wanna see you give me a little show, sweetheart. Blow some bubbles with it,” he taunts.

You smear as much of it as you can against your lips, coating the inner ring of them, and prop them open in an oval shape before gently pushing air out. A milky, translucent orb swells with your breath. It pops and splatters a bit on your face. You form another one and don’t move your eyes away from Tommy, who is watching you with rapt lechery as you blow cum bubbles with his brother’s hours-old spend.

“Damn, you’ll really do anythin’, huh?” he mocks. You catch the excited, voracious approval laced in the derisive comment.

“Not for everybody,” you reply pointedly in as clear of a voice as you can with your mouth still holding onto Joel’s cum until Tommy tells you to swallow it. Tommy must know you weren’t this malleable and willing with anyone other than Joel, and now him. Right?

His face softens a bit. He runs a finger across the curve of your cheek. “No, I suppose not,” he agrees. “Suppose I’d better take advantage of bein’ one of the only two who get to have ya like this, huh?”

Your lips curve upward. “Can I swallow him so I can have you now?” you ask with big, fluttery doe eyes.

Tommy starts jerking himself hard and fast and tells you to swallow. You empty the contents of your mouth down your throat and snap it back open for him to fill.

“You’re gonna wrap those pretty lips ‘round my cock, and when I fill that mouth you better not let a single fuckin’ drop slip out,” he instructs, suddenly stern and focused.

You vacuum your lips around him and look up with pleading eyes. He strokes himself hard, breathing heavier and faster, until he lets out a pained groan and starts shooting hot ropes of cum into your mouth. You push away the involuntary reflex to swallow as your mouth starts to fill up. You gag a few times when a sharp burst pummels the back of your throat, but you don’t dare swallow.

Tommy hisses a string of curses as he empties himself. He shakes his cock against the seal of your lips to signal he’s taking it out. You pucker and clamp down your lips, ensuring your mouth closes behind his red, swollen tip. He tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens them.

“Goddamn,” he huffs. He shakes his head with a lopsided grin as if he’s disoriented. As if it was you that had whipped him into a sensual frenzy instead of the other way around.

He helps you to stand and chuckles at your shaky legs. He props you against the counter and stoops down to get your panties and bottoms back to their original place. Your cheeks bulge slightly with the fill of him in your mouth. You wish you could speak, but there’s also something calming and comforting about the shared quiet between the two of you.

He grabs the bottom of his shirt and wipes your face with the inside of it, making you a bit more presentable before you exit the bathroom. He pats down your hair, something so tender and domestic against the backdrop of debauchery you’d just engaged in.

“Beautiful,” he grins. His eyes crinkle when his smile grows wide enough, and he looks so much like Joel in that moment you want to grab him up and not let him go.

“Now what you’re gonna do, sweetheart, is you’re gonna keep your mouth full until you can show Joel what a good job you did, alright?” he explains.

Your cheeks burn at the praise and at the thought of Joel inspecting all of Tommy’s cum coating your mouth. For reasons you can’t quite explain, it gives you a rush of excitement knowing you’ve been the receptacle for their unhinged desires, all within the span of a few hours.

“And you best hurry to where he’s sittin’ unless you catch somebody tryna start a conversation with ya. Can’t talk when your mouth is full of cum, huh? ‘Course knowin’ what kinda slut you are, I bet you’d like for ‘em to see it runnin’ down your chin and onto those nice tits of yours.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down the new wave of arousal hitting you. If you lose focus, you might accidentally swallow.

“But you’re gonna keep it in there ‘til Joel can see it, aren’t ya?” he probes.

When you keep your eyes shut in concentration, he nudges your leg aside with his knee and lands a swat over your clothed clit. Your eyes tear open, and you practically gurgle scream a moan. You nod hastily in agreement, although part of you wants him to do that again.

“Damn, is there anythin’ you don’t like done to ya?” he sneers. He rubs a gentle palm over the crotch of your pants and drinks in the shaky sigh of pleasure that leaves your lungs. He brushes his nose against yours and closes his eyes.

“Pretty thing,” he murmurs. You can feel the whisps of his eyelashes flit against your skin. You’re anchored to the spot, captive to the serene hold of him against your body.

He peppers a few kisses along your cheek as he makes his way to your ear. “When y’all come over for dinner on Friday, I want you to leave your panties at home, you hear me?”

You whimper at the thought. He breathes a chuckle against the shell of your ear. “Joel might like ya to keep ‘em on, but I want you to take ‘em off for me. Can you do that? Can you leave those panties at home for me on Friday night?” he rasps.

Your hands snake up his arm and shoulder until your fingers tangle in the curls of hair along the nape of his neck. You gently nod. “Good girl,” he says and gives you one last press of his lips against your forehead. “Now get goin’.” He jerks his head towards the door, and you shuffle obediently out of the bathroom.

The Tipsy Bison is business as usual, and it seems strange that all of this was carrying on and didn’t somehow come to a complete standstill while you and Tommy wrenched each other apart and devoured the raw insides you found there. You’re in a bit of a haze as you wander towards where you last saw Joel. You take a moment to register the figure of someone who’s stepped in front of you, blocking your path forward. Your stomach lurches. It’s Maria, because of course it is.

Your mind wars with the guilt of her sudden appearance and the thrill of having Tommy pooled in your mouth.

“Have you seen Tommy? He said he was going to the bar, but I haven’t seen him,” she says loudly over the chatter.

You almost open your mouth to answer, in such a fluster you nearly forgot the fact that you can’t speak to her when your mouth is filled with her husband’s cum. Instead you clumsily shrug and motion like someone is hailing you over to them. You don’t stop for her to react to your odd behavior and instead make a beeline for Joel.

He sees you and relaxes into a smug grin. You practically fall into his lap as you sit beside him. He raises an eyebrow at your rushed, graceless movements but stills when he notices the tight clench of your jaw. You bore your eyes into his as you gently open your mouth enough for him to see inside, tilting your head back slightly so he can appreciate your commitment to your task.

His eyes flick down and darken as he scans your filled mouth. He rests a hand over his crotch and swallows hard. Your eyes flit back and forth in a silent request to swallow. He wraps a hand around the front of your neck and leans in.

“You swallow when I give a little squeeze,” he instructs before pulling back to watch you.

He presses down gently on your throat, and you can feel the muscles contract against his hand as you swallow. A deep groan reverberates from his chest at the feeling. You lean forward and divulge every sordid detail in a hushed whisper. His hand leaves your neck and grips the top of your thigh. He lets you finish recalling and recounting it all for him.

He’s suddenly scooting you over and up to stand. You’re out the door of the Tipsy Bison faster than you can discern what’s happening.

“What’re–”

“Been a bad girl,” he tuts. His arm around your back sets the fast gait home.

“But you—” you start to sputter.

“Lettin’ him empty me outta that cunt? After I told you to keep it in there?” he elaborates. He looks down at you with a wicked grin. “Gonna have to get you home and fix that right away, honey.”

You breathe a relieved laugh that he wasn’t somehow upset with the turn of events now that it had actually happened. No, this was your Joel, teasing you and keeping you on your toes.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” you ask in a flirty, coy voice.

“Know goddamn well what I mean. Gonna fuck you ‘n fill you up again, like you should be.” He gives you a playful wink that makes your chest tight with emotion.

You feel certain that this revolving door of affection and attention from the Miller brothers was something you could definitely get used to.

Brain Goblin went wild with this one. I had thought a lot about what happened after Liquid Gold, but it wasn't until recently that I got a really clear vision of what took place before, how it all came to be.

I hope the insight to her past gives context to what makes this slutty throuple so sweet and special.

As always, thank you for reading!

Art in graphic is a transformed work by artist Thomas Francis Dicksee.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

#fic: Two Hands To Hold #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller #fic: liquid gold

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zerokrox-blog · 2 months

Note

Hello I have an oddly specific request for a fanfic.

Ok so picture it. Its an autumn morning, leaves orange and brown. The scent of pumpkin spice is in the air. Steve goes for his morning cup and blushes when he sees a handsome rocker with a cup of black coffee, chugging off a hangover from H-E-double stirrer sticks. The understaffed barista begs him to take the man his chocolate cake pop and Steve agrees. They talk and Eddie asks him on a 2nd date. (Him counting this as their first)

Lol like I said, oddly specific but hey, what can I say, I think it would be interesting.

OHMYGOD THIS IS SOOO CUTEEE!!!

Steve always went for a run every morning at the same time, around 6:30am so that he could go to his favorite coffee shop right as it opens. Steve loved the place, it was a small family-owned cafe with the best coffee in town. It opened up last year. He liked the staff, the decor everything about the place was perfect.

Steve hummed as he laced his shoes, grabbed his phone, he did some stretching first and set off on a run.

The crisp autumn air keeping him cool, and the leaves on their trees, in reds, golds and yellows made his heart sing in tune with his steps. He ran along the trail he normally did, through the park, and then down the main street, towards the coffee shop. He hummed along to his music and kept a steady pace.

As he drew closer to the store's location he slowed his run, keeping himself in a light job.

Once at the store, Steve, now walking, opened the door, calling out a cheerful, "hello!" as he moved inside.

He moved confidently closer to the front desk where his favorite worker, an older man named Even, turned to give him a bright smile.

"Steve! Hello! How was your run?"

Steve started to speak, but then came to a full stop. There was a something new today. Or rather a someone new. There was an absolutely gorgeous man on the left side of the front counter waiting for his coffee, Gareth another worker, was making for him. He seemed dead on his feet, face rather pale. Steve took him in, before awkwardly clearing his throat and went over to Even to put in his order.

Even gave him a Look. He lowered his voice, "he is a pretty man, huh? He is Gareth's friend."

Steve hummed, before breaking out in a bright smile when the man glanced at him, he then turned back to Even and asked for his usual. The man sat down at a table to drink his black coffee.

Once his order was ready, he moved to a table and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man's eyes follow him.

He sat down at the table beside the man, who turned towards him, and took a sip of his coffee. "My name is Eddie, what's your name?" the man's..Eddie's voice was stunning.

He finished his sip, "Steve, do you come here often?" He internally facepalmed at the unintended pick-up line he used.

Eddie smirked, "nah pretty boy, this is my first time here. But I needed a pick-me-up. Gareth is my friend and I knew I could get a good drink here."

Steve and Eddie ended chatting for a while as they finished their drink.

It was a good time, at some point Steve realized he was sharing a table with Eddie. They talked about everything. It took Steve almost an hour and half to realize that he was behind schedule. He worked from home, but it closer to nine, which was when he started.

He frowned at his phone, thinking.

Eddie noticed the look on his face. "can I get your number, so we can set up a second date?" he asked.

Steve stared at him, "a second date? what about the first one?"

Eddie laughed, "I'd say this was a pretty good first date, no? We talked and got to know each other."

Steve grinned back at him, warmth filling his chest, "yeah, this was a good first date. Here," he held out his phone, "put in your number and send yourself a text. I would love to set up a second date."

Eddie did so, a small smile on his face. At the front counter, Gareth and Even watched them. Gareth turned to Even, "we were right. They fit each other very well. But let's not say anything until they get more serious. I want to see if they can figure out that we set them on purpose." Even cackled, he had no intention of saying a word. Besides, "I better be best man at their wedding."

#zerowrites #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #ask me things #inbox open #fill my inbox #send asks #writing prompt

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keylimeyunho · 1 year

Text

hard to ignore: part 2

part 2: “backstage”

pairing: reader x fuckboyidol!san genre: smut, fluff word count: 4.6k warning(s): yelling, slight manhandling, implied smut

you continue to stare at the slip of paper he had shoved in your palm, in shock and in confusion.

a small phone number scribbled, with words insinuating he wanted you, his stylist, a girl he just met, to text him, an idol, someone who was probably your boss. and what did he even want you to text him? for when my pretty girl decides-

"hello?" a light knock on the door shakes you out of the trance you were in. “anyone there?”

you suddenly remembered there was one more member still left on your list. you shove the paper in your skirt pocket. i’ll worry about that later. right now, you had a job to do.

“coming!” you yell and open the door quickly. “i’m so sorry about that, i was-”

you don’t finish your sentence because your eyes fail to meet the eye level of the man standing at the door. standing at much taller height than the playboy who was in the room before. instead, this man was towering over you and you suspected he was even taller than mingi. donning a black, gold trim tux in a similar fashion to san’s but much less showy and much more reserved, he looked elegant, royal. a prince was standing in the doorway.

the man stared at you and raised an eyebrow, a smile peeking at his lips. “you were..?

you close your gaping mouth. “oh! um, i was reorganizing everything for you before you came in.” you scramble to pretend you were putting all of your used brushes out of the way, cringing at the way you let choi san hold your attention even after he left the room.

but yunho just smiled again and said, “you’’re all good. take your time.” he settles himself into the chair in front of you. “i’m all yours”

you turn back to grab the eye shadow palette you want to use from the makeup bag, but due to all your nerves and embarrassment from the last two minutes, it slips through your shaky fingers and ihts the ground, eye shadow dispersing everywhere and almost onto yunho’s freshly buffed shoes.

ohmygod. you sink to the floor, head in your hands, embarrassed. you only just met yunho and you’ve already made a fool of yourself, twice. it was so easy with the other members and yunho is just as nice as they were, a perfectly sweet guy. why were you so jumpy all of a sudden? but you didn’t need to think that hard to know the answer.

“i’m sorry, i..” you start. you look up at yunho, who looks down at you holding your knees to your chest. he tilts his head in curiousity and concern, wondering why his stylist was sitting on the ground in front of him, not doing her job. you wouldn’t be surprised if he called and asked for someone else to do his makeup for him.

but instead, he holds his hand out to pull you up, “are you okay?” he asks, a twinge of confusion but also sympathy in his voice. “do you need to talk?”

you sigh. yes, you want to plead to him. i want to talk about what the hell happened five minutes ago with that man before you.

but you just grab onto his hand and let him pull you off the ground. “thank you.” you reply, wiping your hands and straightening your shirt, giving yunho a pity smile so as to not worry him any more than you already have. “nope, i’m all good. just uh…a little nervous to make mistakes on the first day. sorry if i took you by surprise and made you watch me fall to the ground. i’m kind of a mess”

you look away again because having to look at his adorable face and smile one more time without feeling embarrassed of the fool you made of yourself a minute ago was going to make you sick.

“you’re most certainly not a mess.” you hear yunho say. blush instantly floods to your cheek but you keep looking into your bag instead.

“and, besides, it wasn’t your fault anyway. san has a way of making everybody nervous, especially our stylists. he does this everytime.”

you whip around immediately. “how did you know?” you look at yunho directly at his face this time, his brown eyes looking innocently and sympathetically at you.

yunho laughs and hangs his head down like this has happened one too many times. “t’s always san. every goddamn time.” he scoots his chair closer to you. “do you know how many stylists he’s flirted with within the last few months? why do you think we had to hire one on such short notice?”

your jaw drops but you close it quickly, not trying to make a fool of yourself for a third time. “they all left because of him? but what did he do to make them leave?” even though san and his pretty eyes and husky voice made you nervous, that didn’t mean you would call it quits on an opportunity you’ve waited your whole life for.

yunho sighs again, tilting his head with a look saying this girl really is more naïve than i thought. “well…not only is san a charming guy, but he also has a way with words. he’s always been able to convince our stylists he wants something more than just playful flirting. but for choi san..” he runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “that’s something he’s never wanted.”

you stare at yunho, holding the foundtain in your hand but not moving forward with it. “wow,” you exhale, “you mean to say he just.. leads them on?”

yunho nods. “unfortunately, yes.” he shifts a little in his chair. “he’ll go as far as to…physically get with them..just to never talk to them again.”

your mouth opens a little in shock and you scoff. “oh wow. oh wow.” you start to put the foundation in your hands to use, brushing over the sharp cheekbones built on yunho's face. “i want to say i’m surprised, but with that stunt he just pulled on me, i wouldn’t be surprised if more girls fell for his words.” you squirt more foundation on the brush. "i mean, if you hadn’t come in after him, there’s no telling if i would have followed him up on his question.”

yunho raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to brush over his skin. “oh? and what question was that?”

you choke out a laugh. “he wanted me to tell him who his favorite member was.” you reach into your pocket and pull out the slip of paper san so generously gave you, handing it to yunho for his inspection “and then he handed me this. what a player.”

yunho unfolds the paper. after a couple of seconds, he sighs. “typical. it always starts with the phone number.” he hands it back to you and nudges you with his elbow. “good thing i was here to knock some sense into you, i guess.”

you smile fondly at yunho as you turn back to your bag to grab the contour and blush. it was refreshing to have an idol you could just talk to. no nervous guys, no silent guys, no flirty, charming, insanely hot guys. just a guy who could be your friend.

“thanks, it means a lot.” you place the blush on his cheek. “now, don’t mind the blush. i just think men with a hint of blush look all the prettier.”

yunho moves his head to look at himself in the mirror. “we haven't had brush in awhile.” he turns his head left and right to get a good scan of his visage. “and i wish we kept it more often.”

standing back and admiring your work, you see that yunho looks even cuter than he already did. light blush and a little contour work magic, as always. you start staring at him for a little too long and you can tell yunho starts to notice. you shake out of it. “sorry, you just…you’re very handsome like that”

yunho looks down and smiles, shrugging up his shoulders shyly. for a tall, 6 ft something, 24-year old idol with millions of fans cheering for him outside theistrailer, he sure couldn’t take a compliment from his own stylist. you put away the rest of the brushes and move to the eyeliner.

“i just need to finish your eye makeup and you’re all set.” you bend down to look at his eye level and you notice how eyes were shaped so perfectly. how were these idols always so goddamn perfect? “thank you for being..normal. or whatever wasn’t the guy who was before you.”

yunho closes his eyes as you bring up the eyeliner pencil. “oh no worries, i actually have human deceny, unlike san. he can be a bit…much. in more ways than one.”

you don’t ask yunho what that means, not wanting to know anymore about choi san because if you did, you are pretty sure you might poke his eyes out with the eye pencil the next time you saw him.

“but don’t worry too much” yunho finishes. “if you ever need help or.. just need a friend, i’lll be here. my room is down the hall to the right.” yunho points out the dressing room door.

it was relieving to know you had someone in this company who you could talk to. after only having met a handful of staff who had no name to you or held you hostage in your trailer with the words no mishaps like a knife to your throat, you didn’t expect anyone to care much about the new girl. but what you really never expected was for your first friend to be jeong yunho, main dancer of ateez. and he was helping you with boy trouble that you already got yourself into on day one.

you click the eyeliner pencil shut. “you’re all done! and, really, thank you, mr. jeo-”

“call me, yunho.” he corrects you, flashing a smile. god of course, you thought, his smile was just as pefect, just as endearing.

you exhale and smile back. “thank, yunho.” you turn back around and start packing up the last of your makeup. “i do have one question for you.”

yunho stands up and heads to the door. “shoot.”

“is that what everyone has been warning me about?” you ask. “all day, everyone has told me to 'watch out' for you guys. but the only member who seems to be any trouble was..him.”

yunho lets out a laugh that sounded like it was being held in. “oh for sure…only san is the one that ever costs us so much trouble.” yunho walks towards the door and pulls it open.

“and hey, a word of advice,” yunho turns around to look at you one last time. “whatever you do, don’t call that number. and besides” yunho touches your shoulder.

“i’m pretty sure i’m your favorite anyway”

—

despite the hold-up with san in the dressing room, the concert did start promptly at 7:30.

the trailers you worked and lived in were right behind the venue so it made it easier to get to the stage from your trailer. you packed some emergency makeup and you walked onto the backstage, looking around at everything before you.

you were a regular concert goer so to finally work behind the scenes at such a big venue was a dream come true. a scene of lights, curtains, and people bustling all around like this was just another day of work. but not for you. while entranced by your surroundings, you don't notice someone hurdling toward you.

"watch out!" the voice says, but before you match it with a face, the person crashes into you, with the papers in their hand and makeup no longer in your hand scattered all over the floor.

it was a girl, roughly around 18 and graduated high school, wearing the same, hopeful look you had when you started working towards your dream. you were betting she was probably one of the kq interns working this concert.

"i'm so, so sorry, miss." she bends down and picks up your makeup for you. "it's so dark back here and i can't see where i'm going on and-"

you put your hand on your shoulder. "relax, everything is okay" you open the pallets to show her everything was still intact. "nothing is broken and i'm alright. just breathe". the girl smiles a little and starts to exhale.

you smile at her. "what's your name? i'm y/n"

she straightens the glasses on her face. "eunchae. i'm new and interning for the stage crew. it's my first show so i'm a bit nervous."

you pat her shoulder. "well, if it makes you feel any better, it's my first time working a concert too. so if you need anything-"

a voice on your walkie-talkie chimes in "five minutes til curtain!"

you look back at eunchae whose doe eyes told you she was relieved there was someone she could rely on. you give her a reassuring look.

"i'll be back here on hair and makeup duty." you point to the dressing room door behind the stage. if you need anything, just say y/n and i'll come find you."

eunchae bows to you. "thank you so much. i will!" and then she runs off, holding the papers close to her chest. you watch her go into one of the rooms behind the stage and once she got there safely, you headed toward the dressing room. but on your way there, a voice appeared over your shoulder.

"hey, pretty girl"

you whip your head around to see him standing right behind you. somehow, san had found you before you had even walked into his dressing room. and it was really annoying how hot he looked at this moment.

his black and gold suit was freshly lint-rolled and you could still the peak of his abs through it's very exaggerated v-neck. his makeup you did on him still remained untouched, but his hair was fixed up, forehead out and looking at you. he smirked as you stood there, again, in awe. you really needed to get yourself together.

"how do i look?" he asks, adjusting his in-ear monitor while the other dangles off his neck. it felt surreal to be looking at san like he's a real person and not an idol about to go on stage. you've seen idols perform, but having one stand in front of you like a normal person and ask you how do i look? was still throwing you for a loop.

"you look.." you start to say. fuck, wow. you only just met him, but you felt heat pooling in your stomach and you almost reached out to him and asked-

that's something he's never wanted. you remember what yunho said to you about san in the dressing room. about how he plays all their stylists with his tall figure, distinguished forehead, and charming words. and you remember why you're here in the first place.

"you look just fine." you finish, thin lipped smile in return. you walk past him and brush his shoulder to show him you could give less of fuck about him, less of a fuck about choi san and his overbearing, sexy aura.

"wow, that's all you-" you hear him say behind your back. but you're already in the dressing room and shutting the door in his face before you hear the rest of whatever came out of his mouth.

it was surreal to be watching the boys perform their setlist, not from the crowd, but from the sides of the stage. you saw all eight of them throwing their bodies and singing song after song, and you were unsure how they were even human. and how you had even intercated with them before.

but the crazier part was during the vcrs, they would run off the stage, sweat seaping through their suits. and you had the lucky duty of wiping off their sweat and readjusting their hair and makeup in time for the next set.

you take the white towel in your hand and dab yunho's forehad first, standing on your tip toes to match his height, although you barely make any difference. while you try to swiftly clean him, yunho takes the back of his wrist and wipes his eyes and hair himself.

"no!" you whine, putting the towel down. "you're messing up your eyeliner and hair!"

yunho laughs quietly, taking the floating mic off his ears and kneeling down so you meet his eye level. "i'm sorry, can you fix it?" he smiles you and bats his eyes innocently.

you try to hold back a grin, but it comes through. "of course i can..but i can't promise i'll be here to save you next time. so keep your hands to yourself."

yunho gives you a thumbs up. "anything for you, m'lady. it's been so long since we performed that many songs back to back, i got kind of winded out." he sighs, looking out into the crowd from his spot behidn the stage. "i missed our fans. and i missed performing...so much."

you pop the lid off the eyeliner in your bag and you start to redraw it on him. he manages to slow his breathing and keep his eyelids still for you so you can make sure it's precise. but while you draw the last of the wing, you hear voices rising over the stage.

"can someone come help her, please? why don't i have a professional here?" the voice seems to coming from behind the stage, maybe someone from staff.

looking over, your eyes widen at the voice belongs to.

choi san, standing over eunchae, who was holding his mic pack and trying to tie it on him. he took it out of her hands and shoos her away. "where are the staff when you need them? can you go look for someone who knows what they're doing?"

eunchae reaches for the mic pack. "sir, i'm sorry, but i'm assigned to trade out your mic for the next set." she says, shakily. "i'm just following orders from director, if you just let me-"

san holds it away from her. "well. tell the director that san requests someone else to help him because you.."

you look back at yunho who continues keeping his eyes closed as if he doesn't hear what's going on behind him.

"yunho!" you say to him. his eyes flash open and he grabs your hand. "what?" he says frantically, worried something bad happened to you as if something worse wasn't already going on.

you point to where san is. "what is san's deal? do you hear him?" you show yunho where san is currently holding the mic pack over eunchae's head, refusing to let her help him.

but to your surprise, yunho just looks back at you and shrugs. "that's just what san does. when he doesn't get his way, he kind of...acts how he wants. with who he wants"

you continued to look at yunho in shock, mouth gaping open. "and no one stops him?"

yunho shrugs again and just smiles awkwardly. "it's annoying, believe me, i know... but it's how he is and how it's always been."

you look back between yunho and san, san and yunho, wondering what to do. as once a vulnerable girl like eunchae, working at a new job with a new boss, it was hard to stand up for yourself. you knew you had to do something than just watch san abuse his power like that.

you put the eyeliner down and stand up. "well, i'm going to be the first"

yunho registers your words and turns around to try to stop you. "y/n, don't-" but you're already stomping your way over to san, your feet and your fists on fire.

you walk up from behind san and snatch the mic pack out of his hands, yelling at him from behind. "hey! what the hell is wrong with you?"

san freezes and eunchae's eyes widen. slowly, he turns around to look at you, his mouth and eyes, frozen and piercing into your skin.

"what...did you just say to me?" he stutters out angrily. his eyes twitch slightly. you realize just an hour ago he was giving you a smirk and calling you one of the prettiest girls he's ever seen. but now he was standing over you like he wanted nothing more than to never see your face again.

you stood there, unfazed by him or his words. "i said.. what the hell is wrong with you? i don't care what eunchae did, you have absolutely no right to talk to her, let alone a woman, like that! especially at a time like this!" you hand eunchae the battery pack.

eunchae looks up at you, worried for you and probably wondering if you were putting your job in jeopardy. but you didn't care; you weren't going to let a girl like eunchae get walked over by a guy like choi san.

"you are going to let eunchae finish what she's doing. be a man," you assert, continuing to stare san down as you speak. he still has yet to move a muscle in his face.

you give him a smile. "thank you for cooperating." you bow to both of them and walk away back to yunho, whose face mirrored eunchae's fearful look.

yunho grabs your shoulder and shakes you a little. "are you crazy? why would you stand up to san, no one ever does that1'

you roll your eyes. "and that needs to stop! i don't care what has happened before, i'm not going to stand there and watch him give shit to someone who doesn't deserve it!"

yunho's eyebrows bunch and he tilts his head at you, disappointed. but you ignore him. no matter how san, yunho, or even the director feel about you, you only cared about how eunchae felt. san had to be put in his place. and besides, this would finally assert to him that he had no chance of ever getting with you.

and based on san's gaze burning into the back of your head, his fists clenching as he watched you finish yunho's makeup, you were pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

closing the door to your trailer, you flopped onto your bed and closed your eyes. your first concert with ateez was a...partial success.

the boys had ended the show with pride, adorable faces looking onto the crowd and some tears shed during their ments. it was endearing to watch them confess to their fans all their emotions and sing them their final encore song. it made you even more proud of all the work being put into this show.

however, you could not help but watch san for the rest of the show after your..incident with him backstage. every time he got off stage for each song, he refused to speak to anyone, and his eyes were lasers, staring into yours as if he had something he wanted to say but it was not the right time to say it.

while packing up the dressing room of all the makeup and tools you brought, you noticed the members had all but left for their own trailers, probably to escape the paparazzi and fans looking around for them post-show. and that meant you would not have to make any contact with choi san until you had to see him for the next show tomorrow. thank god.

you stared up at the ceiling of your trailer, sleep about to take over your body when suddenly a light knock rapped on your trailer door.

11:47 PM, your phone read. you froze. maybe the director had heard about your little conversation with san. suddenly, his words rang in your ear again. no mishaps.

grudgingly, you went to your door and turned the handle to let the director inside.

but to your surprise, that was not who was standing there.

drenched in sweat and his unruly hair coming out of a baseball cap, mic still in his hands, choi san barges his way into your tour trailer before you can even fully open the door and recognize who he was.

he slams the door and flips you against it. "what...the actual fuck..is wrong with you?" he mutters to you, holding his hand above your head on the door behind you and towering over your ears once again. you were close enough to see the sweat from the concert still dripping from his hair and you could smell the faint overpowering cologne that was still holding on from hours ago.

you look at him and slant your eyes, lips forming a straight line and not reacting to him. "what the fuck is wromg with me?" you ask him. "what the fuck is wrong with you? barging into my trailer at midnight and slamming-"

"i'm not going to repeat myself again." san interrupts. "what the fuck is wrong with you? hm?" he raises an eyebrow at you. but it doesn't faze you the way it may have a few hours ago.

"if you're referring to the concert, i'm sorry but i don't let someone down to their staff like that." you lift your hands up and push him off your door and out of your way. you shove past him, making your way to the other side of the trailer.

san balls his fists again and moves toward you. "you had no right to come up to me at my job and make a fool of me-"

"you did that yourself, speaking to her like that!" you yell back, arms waving in the air. "so i'm sorry if i bruised your precious ego, but you had no right to treat someone like that. someone who was just trying to help you." you were getting angrier now.

san is still hiding under his black cap as walks over and stands over you, crossing his arms. "you better stay away from me if you know what's good for you. i never want to see you again."

you roll your eyes at his sad excuse of a threat. "oh please. says the guy who gave me his number after only ten minutes of meeting me, begging me to tell him he was my favorite. grow up."

san's facial expression changes when he hears your words. "wow," he mutters, his stone expression turning into a smirk. "we're really going to have to fix that attitude problem of yours." he starts to back you against another wall. "and don't pretend like you didn't like what you saw. or what you see right now."

you look up at him and part of you wanted to ignore the fact he was right. my god, you were so close to his lips and the ends of his hair were brushing the skin on your face. if you weren't in the position you were currently in and he was not the disrespectful, obnoxious, playboy you knew he was, there's no telling if you would have grabbed his face and used your own lips to wipe that awful smirk off his. because my god was he fine.

however, you knew better than to feed into him, feed into his tricks to get you under his finger. and you weren't falling for it.

you smile at him. "nice try, but i feel nothing towards you. and i never will."

your back hits the wall as you realize he's backed you up against another wall. a small grin comes out from him, from under his black cap and he leans next to your ear.

"now, let's not lie to each other, shall we? i know if i felt you right now, your pussy would say otherwise."

your eyes froze and gasped at the words he just whispered into your ears. you remained, against the wall, frozen and in shock, as he stands up and releases his grip on the wall.

he bows to you and before he heads toward the door, he says, "be ready by 8 am," and slams the door behind him.

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hoodharlow · 3 days

Text

Know You Get Sick of the Games 'Cause I Do Too

AN: part 2 🤭 everyone get ready to fight Jack

Requested? No

Warnings: Jack being a dumby, intense kissing, sad Miriam 🥺, and a messy teammate

Word Count: 3.7k words

Miriam twisted her curls into and held them in place with a claw clip. Practice dragged on for what felt like an eternity. She packed up the last of her things and texted her siblings she was on her way. She had a game in a few days in Jersey and the team was staying in New York for the week. She was going to stay with her team in the hotels but they allowed her to stay at her sister's place as long as she wasn't late for any training.

Beto, her bodyguard for when she traveled to away games, held the door of their rented Range Rover. He closed the door and went to the driver's seat.

“Can I put on my music?” Miriam asked.

“My rental, my music.” He said playing one of Metro Boomin’s instrumental versions of his albums.

The drive from Jersey to New York wasn't that long. They arrived to her sister's place and she rushed to change.

She picked out a pair of black trousers with a burgundy Vivienne Westwood cropped cardigan. She paired the look with her Versace platform boots and her vintage Vivienne Westwood pearl necklace with the gold embellished orb. Her phone pinged as she quickly did her makeup. Then it started to ring.

Miriam groaned and grabbed her phone. Without looking at who was calling her, she screamed and put it on speaker, going back to her makeup.

“Jesus,” Jack on the other end yelped.

Miriam scrambled to pick up her phone. “Ohmygod, I'm so sorry, I thought you were one of my siblings. They were spamming my phone because I lied about where I am.” She said.

“Wait, where are you?” He asked with concern.

“At my sister's place but I told them I was on my way to our go-to Thai place.” Miriam explained as she shoved all her necessities in her heart shaped bag.

“Oh, you're not free right now? Today is my day off.” He said, casually.

He was also in New York for work. After his birthday he left for Boston. He was cast in an action thriller movie and they were filming in Boston. Miriam didn't understand the plot he explained to her in one of their three hour long facetime calls, but she found it admirable that he was venturing out into acting.

“No, but I'm free later if you want to get dinner.” She said, locking her sister's penthouse.

“Sounds good. Want me to pick you up?” Jack asked.

“Nah, just text me the place and I'll meet you there.” Miriam said.

“Okay, I'll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Miriam hung up and smiled to herself. It was her first time having real alone time with Jack. He and Miriam have been talking on the phone and texting non-stop since his birthday. Even though she told herself not to catch any feelings, she caught feelings. She couldn't help it. Jack was kind, ambitious, intelligent, compassionate and embarrassingly funny. How could she not develop feelings for him? But a part of her knew better than to act on them. He's never hinted at feeling the same as her and she wasn't going to risk their new friendship for something like her own feelings.

As she walked out of her sister's place, paparazzi surrounded her. Beto shielded her as best he could while they got in the car. Ever since she started playing for and Racing Louisville, Miriam found herself more and more in the media. Now there was always some new article of her questioning her talent or some random picture someone took over while she was making a Target run. When she's in some major city like LA or New York City, there's a trail of paparazzi. Just yesterday JustJared posted about her adjusting her leggings when she was coming out of practice.

It was a huge adjustment for Miriam. Growing up her parents kept her and her siblings out of the media. Since she wasn't modeling or acting once she was a teen like her siblings, she was able to stay out of the limelight and have a ‘normal’ life until college. Though the paparazzi only followed her around for a bit because she was hooking up with Shawn Mendes in 2018 and he would visit the Bay Area a lot while he was working on his album. When things ended between them, the paparazzi retreated after realizing that Miriam had a pretty boring schedule and she was actually taking school seriously unlike several nepo babies that wanted the ‘college experience’ at USC.

While she waited for traffic to clear up, Miriam texted her siblings that she was on her way and they responded that they ate without her. She frowned and texted her dad that they left her to starve. Her dad left her on read but then she got several messages from her siblings calling her a snitch for tattling on them.

“Beto we're not going. Can you believe the twins ate without me?” She asked him.

He rounded the corner and opened the door for her. “Yes I can,” he said, guiding her back to the building. “It took you an hour and a half to get ready.”

“You try making an outfit with a limited closet. I couldn't even steal from Kat because half of them don't fit. Have you seen her patas? They're huge.” She explained as they rode the elevator.

Beto looked at her amused and remained quiet the rest of the ride to Kat's penthouse.

Miriam thought about texting Jack, but she didn't want him to think that he was a second option. So she ordered delivery from a cafe a few blocks down.

When her food came, she ate in her sister's closet, looking for an outfit. Could she just wear what she already had on? Yes but if she had known she was going on a date with Jack she would've packed accordingly. Was it a date? She thought to herself. Panic surged through her body. She placed her sandwich on its plate and looked for her phone. Jack had texted her earlier the address of the restaurant. It was pretty low key but still had a business casual dress code.

Miriam paced around the closet. She always overdressed. But this time she didn't want to over dress and give Jack the wrong idea. Or for him to think it was something more when it wasn't. They were just two friends grabbing dinner and nothing more.

Jack looked around to see if the coast was clear as they walked out of the restaurant. He and Miriam went to a hole in the wall Italian restaurant for dinner. Jack motioned Miriam to come out since there were no paps. Miriam linked her elbow with his as they walked the busy street.

She instantly regretted not staying in the black trousers she wore earlier. She held on to Jack tighter, praying that his hotel was close by. They didn't want to end their evening just yet. It was still pretty early so they were going back to the hotel to watch some movies.

“Cold?” He asked her.

“A bit, but I'll survive.” She reassured him.

They past a shop and it immediately caught Miriam’s attention. She steered her and Jack back.

She gasped, “I haven't had Magnolia's in forever. They have the best banana pudding and I hate banana flavor anything. Their chocolate icebox cake is to die for.”

She pulled her arm away from his and practically ran inside the bakery. Jack followed after her. He found her bending over the glass display looking at the rows of desserts. He silently groaned seeing her skirt ride up. And he was most definitely not thinking of pushing her skirt up to her hips and fucking her from behind.

Miriam had made it abundantly clear that she only wants to be friends. Jack wasn't going to risk the good friendship they have to fulfill his needs. No matter what. He was going to be respectful of what she wanted.

“Hold on,” Miriam told the cashier, bringing Jack back to reality.

She took several things out of her bag. Jack figured she was looking for her wallet, so he got his out.

“Here,” he told the cashier, handing them his card.

“Wait, no.” Miriam tried to argue as he shoved everything back in her bag.

“It's fine.” He took her hand and led her to the back corner.

“You paid for dinner and it was pretty expensive.” She pointed out.

“Are you implying that I'm broke?” He asked in an amused tone.

“No, it's that…” she couldn't find the words to explain herself.

“You're easy to mess with.” He laughed.

“Did you just call me easy?” She gasped dramatically. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“I already did.” He smirked, not breaking eye contact.

Before Miriam could reply one of the workers called her name. She walked over and thanked them when they handed her her order. She also dropped a few hundred dollar bills in the tip jar. She nodded at Jack to follow her out to a table outside.

“You're about to have a mouth-gasm.” She said, pulling out a tub of banana pudding.

“Respectfully, I'm from Kentucky. Banana pudding and icebox cakes are delicacies over there. I doubt they compare to what we have back home.” He said.

“Whatever, hater.” Miriam rolled her eyes. She took a spoonful of banana pudding and ate it. She moaned and did a little dance. “You're missing out.”

Jack rolled his eyes in response.

With that they continued walking to the hotel. The doorman opened the door for them and greeted them. Jack guided Miriam through the back hall, away from the small convenience shop and restaurant-bar where they could be seen and filmed.

Miriam continued eating her pudding as they rode the elevator to Jack's floor. She didn't finish it so she put it back in its paper bag. She felt Jack eyeing her when they walked down the hall to his suite.

“What?” She asked.

“You have pudding on your face.” He tapped the corner of his mouth.

“Shit.” She mumbled, wiping the opposite side that Jack pointed to.

“Here, I got it.”

He took a step closer and cradled her face. He swiped her cheek with his thumb and without breaking eye contact he licked it.

“Not bad,” he commented on the pudding. “Nothing beats–”

Miriam cut him off. She pulled his down to her level and claimed his lips. It took Jack a second to process what was happening, but he kissed her back with full force. He grabbed her hips and backed her into the door of his hotel room. He wedged one of his legs in between hers and let her slowly rub herself against his dark cargo pants. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as his hands rested on her ass. They slowly devoured each other, bodies melting into each other.

The door opened abruptly. Miriam nearly fell back, but Jack caught her. He spun her and pulled her to his side. They were face to face with Urban.

“Oh it's y'all, I thought it was room service.” He told them as they entered the room.

“Nope just us.” Miriam smiled innocently. She held up her paper bag. “Is it okay if I put this in the fridge?”

“Go ahead. The kitchenette is down the hall.” Urban answered for Jack.

“Thanks.” She nodded, making her way over.

Urban to Jack with a knowing smirk.

“Don't.” Jack warned him in a hush tone.

“Hey, I'm not the one dry humping my idol's daughter in the middle of a hotel hallway.” Urban whispered back.

“It wasn't like that.” He argued. “Now shut up Miriam's coming.”

“I bet she is.” His best friend mumbled.

“Can I use your restroom?” She asked them.

“My room has an ensuite bathroom. It's down the hall.” Jack told her.

“Cool, thanks.” She nodded.

Urban walked to the small living room. One of the couches there was a CVS bag. He dug through it and pulled out a box of condoms.

“You're going to need these more than I will.” He said, not being able to keep a straight face.

“You're a fucking ass. We won't need any.” Jack said defensively.

“You better not hit it raw.” Urban put his hands on his hips. “You can get her pregnant and ruin her career. The US women's team is having trials for the next few months for their world cup.”

Jack sighed. “We won't need any because we're not having sex.”

Urban placed the box on the table behind the couch where he was watching some action rom-com. “I'll leave them here just in case. Just let me know so I can have my soundproof headphones on deck.”

Jack flipped him off and went to his room. Miriam was leaning against the desk typing furiously, so he went to sit on the edge of the bed. She sensed his presence and put her phone down on the desk.

“Sorry, my friend Shawn is in town and he wanted to know if I could record some back up vocals for him tomorrow.” she said, walking to him.

“So…” He trailed off.

“I was looking at the movie list and they have Ready or Not showing in one of the channels if you want to watch that.” Miriam suggested.

She was not going to bring up the kiss. She was embarrassed that his best friend almost caught them and it would be best if she avoided it unless Jack brought it up. Then she would be more than happy to admit that the kiss caused her soack through her panties.

“Yeah, that's fine. Help yourself to anything in the mini fridge.” Jack nodded to the mini fridge as he kicked off his shoes.

Miriam nodded, but she didn’t take anything. She sat on the other side of the bed and took off her white calf-length MiuMiu boots. She sat a bit closer to Jack but not too close. He passed her the remote and she put in the channel for the movie.

The opening credits were barely beginning, so they hadn't missed much. As the movie progressed Jack and Miriam moved closer and closer to each other. They whispered among themselves their reactions to the movies. Miriam loved a gory movie but Ready or Not had real effects and it wasn't GCI like other movies. So when the families started exploding one by one she hugged Jack's arm and hid her face. She draped her legs over his lap. Jack held onto her knee as he flinched. The final credits rolled and they were still huddled together.

“Man, that was fucking insane.” Jack chuckled.

“I love that movie. It's such a fun movie. Plus Adam Brody is a plus. He really solidified my type in men.” Miriam said.

“Yeah, what's your type?” He asked out of curiosity.

“I like them funny.” She shrugged, maintaining eye contact with him as she sat on her knees.

“What else?” He leaned a bit closer.

“Having brown curly hair is a plus.” She added.

Jack hummed in response. He held her cheek and brought her closer to him, closing the space between them. Unlike the kiss in the hallway. This one was slow and carnal. Miriam climbed Jack's lap and deepened their kiss. He gripped her hips and guided them on his crotch. His hands wandered down to her ass and he pushed her skirt up to her waist, getting a better grasp on her ass.

Miriam pulled back and took off her top, staying in a simple t-shirt bra from Aerie. She kissed Jack a few times then unfastened it from the front. She let it fall off her shoulders. She leaned forward to kiss Jack once more but he put his hand in between them.

“This is a mistake.” He said.

Miriam's stomach dropped. “Oh.”

She scrambled off his lap and began grabbing her things. She haphazardly put on her bra and rushed out of his room, pushing past Urban as she rushed out of the suite.

“Wait, Miriam.” Jack called after her.

“Don't.” She said, wiping tears off her cheeks.

She pressed the elevator button, praying that it opened before Jack got to her. Jack tried to reach for her arm but she pushed his hand away.

“Don't fucking touch me.” She sneered.

He took a step back with his hands up in surrender. The elevator opened and she slid inside. As it closed she lifted her middle finger at him.

•••

@'justjared: Canadian pop star Shawn Mendes and Racing Louisville FC's brand new soccer player, the daughter of actress Isabela Miller and retired soccer player, Miriam Dominguez-Miller were spotted out and bought in New Jersey leaving Ciao Ristorante. The pair have been formerly linked in 2018 and were spotted galavanting all over the globe. They haven't been seen together since early 2019. The 24 year old soccer player has been formerly linked to NBA player Kaleob Young and singer Kehlani. Click in the 🔗 for more.

•••

When Miriam said her friend Shawn wanted her to do backup vocals, she was apparently talking about Shawn Mendes. Jack was not one to lurk, but after seeing the paparazzi pictures of Miriam and Shawn, he got curious and read any article about them that he could find. He mainly found some paparazzi pictures from 2018 and articles of wondering who Miriam was before some gossip pages wrote about how she was the forgotten child of Mateo and Isabela.

“Dude, you gotta let it go. You did it to yourself.” Urban said, taking Jack's phone. “Now pay attention to the game.”

They were at the Red Bull Arena watching Racing Louisville play against NJ/NY Gotham FC. Miriam didn't start but in the second half she was swapped in. She was on the field for five minutes and already had grass stains all over her uniform. Jack averted his eyes away from her ass and tried not to think about how two nights before he was squeezing over his dick.

He felt like shit. He didn't mean to say that it was a mistake but his mouth was faster than his brain. What he really meant was that he didn't want to have sex with Urban in the other room. Not because Urban would blab or anything, but he wanted Miriam all to himself. He wanted to be the only one to hear how she would come undone when he ate her out or how she would sound saying his name after three rounds. Jack cursed feeling his pants tighten around his crotch. He shifted in his seat and tried to pay attention to the game.

Racing Louisville won 1-0. Miriam had scored, surprising no one. What did get the crowd going was that she did the Dominating-Dominguez. A special move named after her dad that very few players could do. Messi tried once for shits and giggles but cramped up.

Jack tried looking for Miriam because she wouldn't answer his calls and left on-read. But fans kept approaching him for pictures. Security came and cleared up the area so Jack could leave. He saw Miriam on her phone with her siblings as he and Urban walked through the private hallway. He was about to approach her when Shawn Mendes swooped in.

“That didn't take long.” Larissa said from behind Jack.

“Hey,” he gave her a side hug, “I didn't see you in the field.”

“I rolled my ankle during conditioning.” She said.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Jack said.

“Yeah, but that was yesterday's news. The real breaking news is Miriam and Shawn getting back together.” She said leaning against the wall.

“Back together?” He asked curiously.

“Yeah, they dated for almost a year. But Shawn dumped her ass for the whole PR thing with my girl Camila Cabello. Miriam was so devastated. I genuinely thought she was going to quit school and soccer but she went to Princeton for some summer program and came back good as new. Apparently they've been talking so I'm glad they're trying again. They make a cute couple, no?” Larissa asked.

“I guess.” He shrugged.

He watched as Shawn gave Miriam a bear hug then gave her siblings side hugs. Miriam then bid her siblings goodbye and approached Larissa.

“Hey.” She smiled at them.

Urban was closest to her so she hugged him first. She hesitated on how to greet Jack, but she decided to just go for the hug. He gave her a once over and walked away, nodding at Urban to follow him.

“Good game.” Urban said, giving Miriam a soft smile.

“Bye, Urban.” She returned the smile.

Urban jogged after Jack. Miriam couldn't hear what they bickered about, but she did hear that loud smack Urban gave Jack in the back of his neck.

“That was weird.” Larissa commented.

“I wouldn't know, you've known them longer.” Miriam shrugged.

“So tell me about Shawn.” She nudged Miriam's shoulder as they walked toward their sprinter van.

“What's there to talk about? I met up with him at the studio and recorded two demos. We went to lunch with his team and got papped.” Miriam shrugged.

“I thought you guys were getting back together.” She said.

Miriam made a face. “Oh god no. Plus what we had back then was nothing mote than friends with benefits, remember? He's a good collaborator. If I wanted to get into music, I'd hit him up.”

“Must be nice to have mommy and daddy pay for my things so I can make as many career choices as I want.” Larissa said sarcastically.

“I mean yeah, but who said I was? I'm just saying if. I have no actual plans. I'm committed to soccer.” Miriam frowned.

“I know I'm just playing.” She laughed, pushing Miriam's shoulder.

Miriam rolled her eyes and sat behind her. She pulled out her journal and her headphones. Teddy, Shawn's producer and songwriter, passed her some beats for her to use when they finished the studio session. She always encouraged Miriam to try out singing, but Miriam always said no.

She had a lot riding on her shoulders. She wanted to continue her dad's legacy. He's not pressuring her to do so, but she was the only one out of her siblings that wanted to play. The twins followed their mom's footsteps going into acting and modeling. She didn't want to throw off any balance by just pursuing music.

Miriam looked down at the new entry in her journal. ‘Platonik’ was scribbled at the top in her loopy writing. She crossed it off and shoved her journal deep in her backpack.

Soccer was her main focus. Nothing and no one was going to get in her way. Not even some Kentucky born rapper that she wished she hadn't caught feelings for.

#jack harlow #jack and miriam #jack and miriam: soccer edition #jack harlow smut #Jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #Jack harlow imagine #jack harlow oneshot

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