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#But my inbox is always open. Come at me babe.
Note
Lestat writer recognizes Lestat writer.
Me and my too many tvc characters and too many ocs. Lestat lives in my brain tent free though.
*throws interactions and positivity at you*
💙💜💖
- thevamplelio / xxmelpomenexx
@thevamplelio
*dances in the positivity (and interactions)*
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Jk. But, honestly, I... am incredibly surprised, touched, and overwhelmed by your kindness at saying all that. I generally haven't followed other Lestat's on this blog BUT, there are so many others whose threads I've seen and whose interpretations I deeply admire and adore.
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tidcl · 23 days
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MV — yuck! (part I)
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pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader
summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.
fc: daisy edgar jones
a/n: hiiii this is my first attempt at an f1 fic so i hope y’all like it!! might turn this into a series idk? feel free to send me a req or a suggestion or just a message🫶🏻 my inbox is always open (fr now i turned on asks) (also daniel is at redbull in this 🙏🏻 prayer circle w me guys 🥲🕯️) (partially inspired by yuck by charli xcx)
⭐️ next part
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(instagram)
@ynusername just posted…
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tagged @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing
liked by @maxverstappen1, @danielricciardo and others
ynusername maxie in miami 🏎️💦 as usual thank you redbull for having me out!!! looking forward to the next one where i will once again be standing 100m away from max until he forgets i’m there and acts natural for the camera.
user1 uhhh wait why he kinda… 🥵
⤷ user1 and i don’t even fuck with cars like that
⤷ user2 no right like who even is this?
⤷ user3 @user1 @user2 His name is Max Verstappen. He’s a driver for RedBull in Formula 1!
user4 MAXIE!?? UR KIDDING!!
⤷ user5 we’re losing the idgaf war
user6 THE SECOND PIC. GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST LITERALLY AS WE SPEAK.
redbullracing 🥵💦 (❤️ by @ynusername)
⤷ user7 she liked. are yn and max together?
⤷ user8 @user7 highkey i think shes just employed by them
⤷ user9 @user7 she’s been one of redbulls photographers since they signed max, they’re not together they’re just friends
user10 RAHHHHHH
user11 contender for white boy of the month i dare say😋
danielricciardo Fuck me
⤷ maxverstappen1 Fuck off
⤷ danielricciardo 😬
danielricciardo Yn why don’t you take slutty photos of me?!
⤷ ynusername cos ur always talking ur head off babes
⤷ ynusername max broods. easier to take pics that way.
⤷ ynusername and they’re not SLUTTY!
⤷ maxverstappen1 Exactly, Daniel.
user12 okay so why is her feed 70 percent max? isn’t she a redbull photographer? not a max verstappen photographer?
⤷ user13 its like a known issue. she clearly prefers one of them over the other🫤
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(yn’s messages)
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(twitter)
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(instagram)
🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…
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liked by @ysistersuser, @maxverstappen1 and others
ynpersonal anyway 😐 me lately
user1 gorgeous gal! don’t listen to the weirdos
⤷ ynpersonal ty babe love u lots! xx
ysistersuser MWAH LOVE U BIG SISSY
⤷ ynpersonal LOVE U TOO LITTLE SISSY
⤷ ysistersuser 🙂🫵🏻 boyliker
⤷ ynpersonal 😐 so annoyed at u
⤷ ynpersonal still love u tho ig
user2 slay! 🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal slay!!! 🫶🏻
danielricciardo Okay so hypothetically…
⤷ ynpersonal hypothetically ur a dickhead daniel
⤷ danielricciardo Hypothetically?
⤷ maxverstappen1 Why are u fighting
⤷ ynpersonal no reason, dan is an asshole
⤷ danielricciardo 👀
user3 When are you visiting home again?? Miss u🤭🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal soon i promise!! ill text u!
maxverstappen1 Nice pants
⤷ ynpersonal thank u maxie 🙈 (❤️ by @danielricciardo, @maxverstappen1 & @ysistersuser)
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📸 ahhhh okay well sound off if you want another part for this. though i think that is probably coming regardless. but yea this is my first f1 fic and my first smau in a longggg time so pls let me know what u think! i’d love love to hear❤️
✨ next part
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edsbacktattoo · 2 years
Note
Terror is actually my middle name and I am all 'go big or go home' so just tell me what you want and I'm ready to provide
i will have my lawyer (my cat. he can’t read) write up a contract for us. i think the conditions will simply be you continue being exactly who you are and i will devote my entire body and soul to you. please expect your copy in the mail post haste
0 notes
simpxxstan · 2 months
Text
Nobody Else (part 1)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 13k
warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!
a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.
hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!
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You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
Objectively speaking, no. 
Subjectively speaking, not at all. 
You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 
So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 
After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 
It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 
It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 
Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 
Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 
But never enough. 
“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”
He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 
His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”
“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.
“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”
“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”
“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?
From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 
“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.
You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 
“Do you need help?”
You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 
He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 
“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”
“But you just wore lipstick?”
“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 
“Well, how do I look?”
His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 
“They’ll love you.”
You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.
“They always do.”
_
And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 
Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 
But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 
And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 
Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 
He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 
“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 
“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 
“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”
You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”
“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 
You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 
“Rich of you to say so.”
You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 
“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 
You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 
_
The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 
It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 
But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 
_
It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.
Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 
“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 
And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 
Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 
And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 
And you had liked it. 
That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.
Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 
You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 
“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”
“The chauffeur was there.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 
“Are you sure?”
His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.
“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 
“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”
“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”
You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”
“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 
“What are your terms?”
_
You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 
No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 
_
You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.
“Hello?”
“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”
The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.
“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”
“I can get my own. See you there.”
He cuts the call. 
What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-
“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 
“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 
“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”
Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 
_
Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 
You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.
There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 
“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”
Fun. 
As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”
“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”
_
They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 
“Will you never leave me alone?” 
He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”
“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”
“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”
“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”
“Hmm-”
The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 
“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 
“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 
“For dinner.” 
You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”
He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”
“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”
“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 
“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”
“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”
“I regret nothing.”
“We’ll see.”
_
“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”
“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 
“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 
“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”
“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”
“You won’t come along?”
“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”
Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”
“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
_
“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”
You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 
You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 
“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”
You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”
Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 
“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.
Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”
Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.
“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 
Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”
“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 
“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 
“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”
“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 
Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”
_
At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 
“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”
You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 
“You came. I knew you’d come.”
“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 
“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 
“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”
“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”
“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 
“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”
You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 
“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 
You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 
“What?”
“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Aren’t there cameras?”
“Will pay for them to be turned off.”
“That’s probably illegal.”
“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”
You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 
“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 
You shake your head.
“Say it.”
“I want it too.”
“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?
“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.
“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.
“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 
“Sir please!” 
“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”
“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”
He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 
But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 
It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 
Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.
“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 
“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 
You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 
That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.
_
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 
Fuck. 
What have you done?
“How late am I?” 
“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 
“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.
By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.
After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 
Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 
Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?
_
Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 
After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 
You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 
It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 
Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 
“It’s one of those nights, huh?”
He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 
“How’s work treating you?”
“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?
“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?
“Come here, princess.” 
That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 
“Hmm, low sugar.” 
Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 
As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 
“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 
It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 
You wonder why he’s so happy. 
But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 
“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 
He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 
“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 
“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”
“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 
“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 
“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 
“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”
He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 
“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 
“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.
“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”
_
The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 
You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 
Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 
Your shirt is ripped again. 
You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 
“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”
He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”
“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”
“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”
“Wonwoo!” 
“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”
His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.
“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”
“This arrangement has to stop.”
He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-
“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s not-”
“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”
“Wonwoo-”
“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.
“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 
“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 
“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”
His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 
“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 
You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 
“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 
He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”
You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 
“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 
You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 
“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 
You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 
“Darl-”
“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”
“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”
You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 
You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 
“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”
“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 
“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”
“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 
“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.
“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 
“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!
“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”
“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 
“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 
“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 
You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 
“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”
_
Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 
“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 
“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 
“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 
It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 
“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 
“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.
“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 
Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.
“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.
“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”
Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”
“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 
You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 
“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.
“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 
“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”
“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”
“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”
“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”
“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”
You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”
“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”
That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.
“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”
Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”
Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 
“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.
“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”
“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 
“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 
Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  
_
Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 
You sigh, and nod your yes.
_
part 2 is now out!
977 notes · View notes
dreamydrifts · 2 months
Text
are you okay?: lando norris
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| pairing: lando norris x reader
| genre: established relationship
| warning: no warnings <3
| word count: 0.5k
| stefy's note: i got this in my inbox, so here it goes, enjoy :)
[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]
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Dating Lando was one of the best thing that ever happened to you. He always wanted you to come to his races, often saying that you are his lucky charm. But that was not the case in the Las Vegas Grand Prix.
As Lando lost the near end of the car, he ended up spinning ofg track and rammining into the wall. You were watching it all happen from the McLaren garage as you sat next to his race engineer.
"Lando, are you okay?" Will, his engineer, asked over the radio. No response.
"Lando, are you okay?" Will asked him again. A long pause before Lando's radio was heard.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm good." He replied, groaning and grunting as he said it. He's not okay.
The moment you heard his voice, you were worried, that's when you pressed the button that connected the headphones that you are wearing to his radio. "Lando, this is y/n, are you ok?" You say in a worried voice.
Lando's breath was heavy as he grunted into the response of your question. "Yeah, i'm okay, babe...." His voice trembled a bit from the pain, making it obvious that he isn't alright. He groans as he speaks.
"The ambulance will come soon baby." You talk to him a calm voice hoping to calm him down.
The adrenaline from the accident was starting to wear off and he could feel the pain of the injuries hitting him like a ton of bricks. He tried to keep himself together, but it was difficult. "I'm fine, babe...i'm just in pain, that's all..." Lando replied as the medical team and Marshall came onto the track to tend the accident.
The medical team gets to his car and open cockpit, quickly assisting Lando out of the car and onto the stretcher. They bring him over to the nearest medical center. The team were examining him as he laid down. Lando was still in pain, especially from his right side. He tried to keep himself together, not wanting to worry you.
You are staying by his side, holding his hand as he was laying onto the hospital bed. "Do you need more water? A better pillow?" You say in a caring voice, yet concerned.
Lando tried to smile when he saw you come by his side. Your presence always brought a sense of comfort and safety to him, when he was not feeling well. "I'm fine..." He tried to act tough, but it was getting hard for him to keep his composture as the pain was getting worse as it radiated through his body.
"Baby, you can tell me everything." You squeeze his hand, still being by his side. "I mean as a girlfriend, i'm supposed to help and in this case even more." You say smiling as you caress his cheek.
Lando chuckled softly at your words of comfort and care. It was true, you always had a way of calming things down and making it better. He was lucky to have you by his side. He smiled and squeezed your hand back. "I know...i'll be okay, though..." Lando tried his best to reassure you and keeo his composure. He took a deep breath and sighted as he felt the pain from his injuries.
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© DREAMYDRIFTS — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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sugrhigh · 3 months
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )
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part one
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think
neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader
a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻
@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss
your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.
he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.
your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.
but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.
“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.
you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.
you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.
“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.
mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”
“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.
“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.
you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.
no, not ever. oh my god.
“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.
“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.
“and you also didn’t have to agree.”
this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”
ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”
“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.
“i’m honestly not sorry.”
the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.
it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.
he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.
maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.
you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.
you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.
even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.
you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.
he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.
he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.
you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.
you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.
they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.
spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.
no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.
they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.
the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.
it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.
the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.
you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”
cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.
he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.
but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.
“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.
“whatever.”
the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.
it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.
you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.
he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.
“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.
“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.
“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.
but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.
“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.
“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.
“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.
it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.
“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.
chris
wait for me, 15 mins max
ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.
you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.
they don’t even know the truth.
finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.
it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.
he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.
“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”
he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.
it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.
the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.
you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.
“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.
you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.
“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.
“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.
“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.
“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”
you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”
“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.
you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”
“always assuming the worst.”
“well, you make it easy.” you tease.
he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.
you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.
“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”
“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.
a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.
chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.
“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.
“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.
“what’s your problem with it?”
“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.
“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.
“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.
chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”
you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.
“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.
you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.
chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.
“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.
“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”
the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.
it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.
he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.
“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.
it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.
deny, deny, deny.
“just wondering why your face looks like that.”
“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.
“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.
“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”
it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.
“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.
“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.
“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”
chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.
“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.
you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.
“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.
“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.
“that’s surprising.”
you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.
he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”
you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.
“home, obviously.”
“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.
“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”
this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”
“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.
you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.
his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.
you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.
it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.
his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.
why is this happening?
the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.
“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.
“or you could stay.”
“i don’t want to.”
“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.
you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.
“goodnight, chris.”
“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.
there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.
you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.
your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.
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dulcewrites · 2 years
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Fool Me Once (pt 2)
Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)
Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.
Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm
A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff y’all like. I’m hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). I’m pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you I’m way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are truly…. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). He’s just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.
Fmo masterlist
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A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize how you’ve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much he’s taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.
The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didn’t have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. You’ve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.
Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.
All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this many options in front of you. Your mother’s words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.
When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but it’s the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.
You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she can’t quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.
You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect him… to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.
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It started with a bruise. A bruise that you don’t even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But it’s there, on the inside part of your left arm. It’s starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.
The idea doesn’t come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicent’s eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if she’s seen Aemond. It’s only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.
“No dear, I haven’t,” her eyes go back to the scratch. “Are you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.”
You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.
“I’m fine,” you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. “I will be fine. I think I’m just tired.”
You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesn’t believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her son’s sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.
It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than you’re proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You don’t want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whore’s blood on your hands.
Where’s the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something more… methodical.
Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man can’t love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.
If this is going to work you need to up the ante.
So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.
It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you children’s safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just weren’t around.
But this fading bruise isn’t enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.
There’s something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an ‘I don’t know’ when he asks what happened.
As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicent’s quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when she’s upset. All her children do it too.
“Sweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,” she sits next you. “Just to help you and… keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.”
You blink. Not one mention of her son. But it’s clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.
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Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daella’s fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.
The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.
You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemond’s job to do right by you, and he couldn’t do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.
You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.
“She’s gotten quite good.”
Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husband’s tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.
“Yes, she has,” you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. “He’s good with her as well.”
You know he won’t like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you can’t make out.
“It’s just lovely having real protector around,” you continue to push your luck. “Someone so attentive and… strong.“
You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters to you, getting up.
“Oh you’ll actually be here long enough for that?”
The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the king’s second son can be. It should’ve been a warning to you.
Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesn’t appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he can’t be depended on.
“My mother used to make me embroider,” your knight’s voice breaks you out of looking on. “Something about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.”
You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husband’s Targaryen features.
“Sounds like a smart woman,” you smile as he sits next to you.
His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and ‘using your brain’ after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasn’t under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. He’s never asked what really happened to your arm.
“How are you my lady,” he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. “Is the babe giving you trouble.”
Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babe’s. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. It’s better that way, you think. You don’t think you’d be able to take fake concern about your little ‘mistake’.
“My bladder is being pushed on, I’m finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,” you reply lightly. “But other than that I’m doing fine.”
This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. You’re sure the stress and thoughts that consume you don’t help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you don’t know what’s worse: knowing they didn’t share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your father’s lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.
When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You don’t know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know she’d never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.
Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices they’ve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up others’ messes - what a dull way to live.
“Once he’s out, I’m sure it will all be worth it,” says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.
He’s trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that you’re having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. It’s hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.
“I’m feeling tired,” you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. “I’ll send Margret out to get Daella.”
Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.
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The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. It’s seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. It’s better to keep the full truth away from her.
But there’s Aegon.
Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But he’s also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say it’s all been a bad dream. You think it’s the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.
He’s messy, nosy, and so openly brash. He’s your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.
You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. It’s not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know he’s taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.
“Is it true? Everything you wrote?”
You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.
“Does it matter that if it is,” you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something you’re not used to seeing.
He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. It’s like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.
“I greatly underestimated you my good sister,” he whispers. You know he’s thinking about his own words. ‘Pretty but horribly dull’.
“That’s fine,” you motion to the seat next to you. “You can make it up to me.”
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Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quinton’s eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.
“I… do not know what to say,” her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.
You’ve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. It’s an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say you’re embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.
“I can say what everyone is thinking,” Aegon pipes up. “He’s a fucking cunt.”
“Aegon.”
His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Walking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,” he scoffs. “Calling his child a mistake?”
The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.
“This all my fault,” you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. “I must’ve done something to deserve this.”
“Oh my sweet girl,” Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. “None of this is your fault.
“I just don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? “This, and the baby, and missing my family. I’m just so unhappy here.”
Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell she’s upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. You’re a risk now.
“Maybe… my father can come and visit. He hasn’t been here since Daella was born.”
After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally you’re the one who has to make the trip.
“Of course,” you can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpful”
Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldn’t, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.
“I’ll speak to Aemond about this,” she nods to herself. “You don’t need to be worrying about this in your condition.”
The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.
“A baby’s green eyes spurs brighter skies.”
She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaena’s cryptic language, has perked up a little.
You take a look at Ser Quinton… his eyes as green as spring grass.
Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so I’m sorry for those I’ve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk it’s it’s different on desktop or I’m doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator
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Halo bby! <3
Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔
hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)
Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:
I didn’t proof read this my apologies
MDNI
cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.
You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!
‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’
After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.
But oh, you could not relate.
After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.
Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.
“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks
“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.
“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.
“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”
Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.
“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.
“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.
“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”
You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.
“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.
“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.
You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.
Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.
He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.
Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.
While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.
That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.
“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.
You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.
You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.
“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”
Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉
You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.
You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.
“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.
“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.
Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!
“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.
“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.
You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.
“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.
“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.
“No baby, I want to face the other way.”
“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.
You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.
Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.
Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.
“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”
Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.
“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”
“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.
You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.
“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.
“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.
“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.
“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.
Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?
You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.
“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.
His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”
Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”
You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.
Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.
“Say it again…” he moans.
“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.
“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.
“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck
“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,
“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.
Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.
“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.
“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before
“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.
“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.
His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…
“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!
You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.
“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.
“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.
“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.
Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.
He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.
“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.
You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.
“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.
“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.
He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.
“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.
Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.
You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.
“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.
“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.
You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.
“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.
You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.
You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”
His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”
You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”
“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.
“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.
You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.
Dear Doctor Yeager,
Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.
- world famous Satoru Gojo
he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.
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thisismeracing · 1 year
Text
Babe | CL16
Pairing: black!fem!reader x ex!charles; black!reader x jacob elordi. Reader has she/her pronouns.
Warning: curse words, Twitter environment, allusions to s3x, cheating, break up, angst…Minors DNI!!!
Summary: It’s been a little over a year since Y/n and Charles Leclerc ended their relationship, the fans found out through gossip pages and Y/n went radio silent from everywhere...until the Grand Prix day when she came back with a compromising song and pap pictures of her and new beau. They say revenge is a dish better served cold, right?
a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
my masterlist | my taglist
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itsmeyn
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liked by jacobelordi, lewishamilton and others
itsmeyn “Babe” is out now in every streaming platform. I was in a really bad place when I wrote this, but I hope my heartbreak can remind you that we are only humans and the good things will come. 😘
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user2 You should not have come back, honestly 🙄
ynsunshine I LOVE IT, QUEEN!!!! Thank you for putting into words what I can’t.
charlesmonaco2 I get it that this is a song and that’s how artists express themselves, but why did she need to drag and expose Charles after almost a year?
⤷ f1winter honestly, I love Charles, but I don’t think she dragged him, she just shared her feelings with us after needing almost a year to heal. She’s quite the brave type.
elordiyn The fact that Jacob is real active and has been feeding us is such a win
⤷ euphoriamazing I hate and love the fact that he doesn’t mind pda too lol you saw that pic of him grabbing her 4ss? 😳 I had such a bi panic
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paddockgossip
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liked by grandprincess, lewishamilton and others
paddockgossip After over a year away Y/n came back with a new, and hot - we have to agree-, boyfriend. The fact that Jacob Elordi posed for her in front of his white benz did not go unnoticed by fans. Looks like our Ferrari queen moved on.
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lewisbrasil LEWIS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???
user10 why are you guys even talking about her? Isnt this a f1 gossip blog?! She’s not f1, move on
charlesunny I loved Charles and Yn together but I honestly cannot remember about them after seeing her and Jacob…honestly, the height difference, the hand Placement, the pda, the laughs 🥹 Im happy for her, she deserves the best
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jacobelordi
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liked by itsmeyn, zendaya and others
jacobelordi 💜 life is better with you by my side, honey. Yn-month dump 📌
comments on this post have been limited
itsmeyn I love you, love 💚
zendaya Im over the moon for you guys!
lewishamilton 🤍🤍🤍 Its good to see you smiling again, Yn! Take good care of her, mate.
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make sure you like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!
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number1jeonginstan · 4 months
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horny bff han jisung has me screaming oh god !!!! imagine han jisung getting caught taking a pic or jerking off and reader acts really bold towards him saying she/they always knew about that and was ready to give him what he wants
A/N: Hi babe! I'm sorry that this took so long, but I wanted to add my own spin on your request, so I hope you like it (Please send something in my inbox or something if you do because I love hearing responses!!) I personally thought this was fun to write!!
WC: .8k
Pairing: Horny!Jisung x 9thmember afab!reader
Warnings: oral(m! recieving), walking in, cum swallowing, idk what else
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It was after practice and you were heading back to the dorms. Jisung had left an hour earlier than the rest of you, saying that he wasn’t feeling well. The eight of you didn’t think much of it, going back to practice after he left. 
You bid the rest of the group goodbye as you went back to the dorm. You knew that it was only going to be you and Jisung since Chan and Hyunjin were planning on getting dinner together and Changbin was at the gym, meaning you could make yourself dinner without any interruptions. 
The last time you tried to make dinner with Jisung and Changbin in the house, you burnt the vegetables due to them constantly distracting you. It was nice to finally be able to make yourself a meal that didn’t include unseasoned chicken breasts straight from a package.
As you opened the door to your dorm, you heard a slight whimper coming from Jisung’s door. He must really not be feeling well you thought to yourself. You decided on making Kimchi-jjigae for both you and Jisung so he would feel better. 
It only took 15 minutes to prepare the meal, thankfully you had cooked rice earlier in the morning, so you quickly plated it on a tray for him, taking it to his room.
“Jisung?” you whispered as you opened his door, only to see him with his cock in his right hand and his phone in his left. 
“Oh fuck, sorry!” you squealed, quickly turning around, trying not to drop the food in your hand.
“Holy shit, Y/N” he quickly covered himself with his blanket, tossing his phone aside only for you to see it was a video of you during one of your dance practices. You remember that day, it was particularly hot, and the video was only to see what you had to improve, so you were only dancing in a bra and shorts.
You quickly set the plate tray down at his desk looking at him, his body a bit sweaty and tissues lying around him. 
“Does Sungie need help getting off? Has to watch a video of his member just to get off?”
He gulped as you began to straddle his legs, slowly pulling down the blanket that lay on top of him. His cock hit his stomach, his tip red and covered with pre-cum, you could tell he was close to cumming before you entered. 
“Aww, look at you, so fucking horny all for me”
“Please” he whined, causing you to laugh. You brought your hand to his cock, slowly stroking it as he whimpered underneath you. “Fuck Sungie, you have such a pretty cock, wonder how it will taste?”
He looked at you in shock as you brought the tip of his cock to your lips. His pre-cum was a bit salty, but nothing you couldn’t bear. You licked his cock, before kissing it while looking up at him. His eyes were shut as he slowly petted your head. 
“Fuck y/n, feel so good” he moaned as you began to take the tip of his cock in your mouth, licking the underside of it as you bobbed your head on it, trying to deep throat him in one go. 
“There you go, be a good girl and take my cock” 
He took your hair in his hand, wrapping it around before causing your head to bob up and down on it. You didn’t expect him to gain control so easily, but he didn’t take you off his cock, basically abusing your throat.
“Fuck, baby, good to know I have a fleshlight whenever I need it” he chuckled as you sucked harder, gagging at the way his cock was hitting the back of your throat. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close. 
You moaned loudly as he came into your mouth, his seed shooting down your throat. “There we go, take all of it”
You coughed as he finally removed you from his cock, still tasting the saltiness of his cum in your mouth. He slowly removed himself from you, pulling on his boxers before walking towards the table and taking a sip of the stew you made him. 
He quickly walked back to you, placing his lips against your forehead “Thanks for the food baby, taste delicious, not as good as my cum though” 
He quickly kissed it before leaving you in your head for a second, trying to recollect what just happened. “Yah! Jisung come back here”
“Can’t wait to tell the guys how you helped me, they are going to be excited to finally have their turns after all these years” 
You were so fucking screwed.
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flynnriderishot · 2 months
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heeey um i got my antidepressants dose increased :’) i hate how im feeling these days and my ed is getting out of control i wish i could stop taking them haha could you maybe write something where vinnie comforts and takes care of the reader on her really bad days? ilysm thank you 🥹🫶🏼
not alone - v.h
a/n: i want to start off by saying that i’m so sorry for how you’re feeling. i’ve been in your position before and can promise that it gets better. my private messages are always open if you’d like to talk to me about anything (this is open for everyone). i also want to apologize for how long it took me to get through to your request, it was buried deep within my inbox.
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you haven’t been feeling your best lately. far from it, actually.
you couldn’t really pinpoint why you’ve been feeling off, but it was definitely noticeable to your friends, family and boyfriend that your usual bubbly personality has slowly been melting away as the days been by.
it started off with you spacing out during conversations, to not giving your input at all, to simply just not showing up when there was a group hang out.
this raised serious concerns with your boyfriend, vinnie, as he wasn’t used to seeing you so down.
with your relationship being new, only seven months in, he wasn’t sure how to approach it.
though, having dealt with his own personal problems with his feelings, he’s learned that constantly being alone with your thoughts wasn’t the best decision. so, after giving you your alone time to process things, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
which is why he was currently walking into your apartment with a bag full of your favorite things, snacks, face masks, and a stuff animal that made him think of you when he first saw it.
he placed the bag on the counter, slowly making his way down the hall to your bedroom. knocking on the door, he turned the knob and spoke,
“babe? it’s vinnie, i don’t know if you saw my text… i wanted to come check on you.”
he squinted his eyes to try and get a better look into the dark room. he sighed softly at the sight of your figured buried beneath your comforter.
he noticed the movement from your breathing, immediately picking up that your weren’t asleep.
“how you feeling?”
“i don’t want to talk, vin.” you mumbled, praying that he would hear so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself.
“that’s okay.” he nodded, swallowing thickly before he sat down near you, “can i lay with you?”
you didn’t give a verbal response, only moving over a bit so he could get comfortable. you silently thanked God that your forced yourself to get out of bed and shower earlier in the morning.
vinnie pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“i want to let you know that you aren’t alone, okay? whatever is going on, i just hope you realize that i’m here for you, your friends are here for you, and i know your family is too. i know you don’t want to feel like a burden to anyone but your feelings matter. and if you aren’t okay, then you should tell someone. i’m here, i will always be here.”
his words were enough to make the tear swelling in your eyes roll down your face.
“i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i’m just so sad but i have no reason to be.” you sniffled, burying your head into his chest.
he rubbed your back softly, closing his eyes at the sound of your sniffles,
“that’s okay. we all get sad sometimes. and even if you don’t know how to describe it, or if you don’t know how to word it, it could be good to at least be with someone who has an understanding.” he felt you nod against him,
“i know that i hate not being able to see you be your usually bubbly self and i hate knowing that you’re struggling alone. i want to there to help you. i want you to burden me with your problems, you know? i want to help you when you need me most. that’s what i’m here for. you don’t deserve to suffer alone.”
“i know. i’m sorry for pushing you away.”
“you have no reason to be sorry.” he lifted your head, pressing a gentle peck to your lips, “if anything, i’m sorry for not coming over sooner.”
“you’re here now.” you tightened your hold on him, “that’s all that matters.”
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taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo
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cheezbites · 9 months
Text
Dating Ghost
✎: I wrote this very late at night (4:38 am) or very early in the morning - when I was motivated by the sheer amount of notifications from my inbox, ty all sm for the love and support💕!!
♡Summary: Head cannons of dating Ghost <3
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚  ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Bf!Ghost has always been a black tea person, either he drank it alongside his breakfast or to calm him down on a rainy day. You were a coffee girl, you would go all out making them - milk, hazelnut syrups, whipped creams… You name it. And from this, another one of your childish inside jokes was born. You were conveniently in the kitchen at the same time as him, making your morning beverages.
“Hm,” you silently thought to yourself, contemplating if your idea was rational enough to act through with.
“Hmmmmm,” he jokingly imitated you, wondering what was on your mind.
You got a separate cup and mixed some of his tea with your coffee. You took the first sip and scorned your face at the unfamiliar yet vaguely distinguishable taste.
Soon he followed, not seeming to be too fond of it at first yet still drinking every last bit.
“Not too bad,” he silently muttered.
And every time you guys were in the kitchen making your daily beverages, the ‘CoTea’ (Coffee and Tea) inside joke was repeatedly brought up.
Bf!Ghost heard a sudden shriek from your bedroom, causing his heart to sink. His thoughts raced faster than the speed of how fast he was approaching your room, desperate to know what it was. What if it was an invader? He wouldn’t be able to live knowing that he wasn’t fast enough to save you from a serious threat, he’d hate himself and feel guilty every single day.
His breathing pattern returned to normal as he sighed in relief when he realised that it was just a spider on your bedroom wall.
“Shit,”
“It’s going to kill me!” You sputtered inattentively as you backed away as far as possible from the ‘murderous pest.’
He stacked a mount of tissues in his hand and effortlessly scooped it up, crushed it into remains of spider limbs and a brown fluid before tossing it in the bin. Shooting you a look that you swore said: ‘Seriously? All that commotion over that?”
“My saviour,” you quipped as you ran up to him and braced him in a tight hug.
Bf!Ghost was used to receiving the “Your eyelashes are so long!” ‘compliment’ from people, mainly from you. It always confused him as to why you pointed it out - maybe it was just a ‘girl thing’ he didn’t understand.
Bf!Ghost was sleep-deprived, sick and unwillingly glued to his bed after days of working, so you took care of him. (At night, when he was complaining about being too cold, you snuggled up next to him and fell asleep in his arms. Maybe he was faking it as an excuse to cuddle you, maybe…) You knew he had an energy drink addiction and some bad eating habits. Since quality meals require time, you poured that time into cooking for him. His gratitude toward you was beyond words, appreciating the care and effort you put into taking care of him. Your cooking not only filled his stomach but also warmed his heart, making every bite a taste of your love.
Bf!Ghost worked out often; so did you. You enjoyed each other's company at the gym, immersing yourselves in the shared playlist and the post-workout rush. His concern for you couldn't be contained. During some weekly sessions, he taught you self-defence techniques, a thoughtful gesture for times he couldn't be by your side.
Bf!Ghost loved making you say ‘please’, even after the smallest of favours. You tried to open your water bottle, but the lid seemed super glued on, you tried repeatedly but your attempts were in vain. You asked him to help you, forgetting one thing:
“Want me to feed you the water as well?” He sarcastically quipped with a shit-eating grin.
“Oh come on babe,”
“And what’s the magic word?” He asked expectedly.
“Please,” you stretched out your ‘please’ jokingly for the sole purpose of teasing him.
He seamlessly removed the lid which astonished you before handing you your water bottle. After all that effort and failed attempts, he made it look so easy.
Bf!Ghost Loathed being away from you; and you felt the exact same way. When he needed to leave or when you were gone, he would try to do things that reminded him of you. When you were teaching him how to cook your signature meals in the kitchen, he was picking up rapidly, improving and learning - soon enough he surpassed you in culinary skills. He remade your recipes to remind himself of you when you weren’t there, and you ‘borrowed’ a few of his hoodies, which were pleasantly engulfed in his scent.
Bf!Ghost Noticed you fell asleep during the horror movie you watched, the last thing he wanted to do was startle you or wake you up. He turned off the TV before heading to your room and placing your favourite blanket over you. He kissed your cheek gently and muttered a silent, “I love you.” Before calling it a night.
Bf!Ghost left wholesome notes for you to discover around the house; the messages were cheesy in the cutest way possible. Either him making you food after a long day of work and leaving it for you in the fridge with a brief note next to it, or a corny compliment stuck on the bathroom mirror for only you to see. It would be something along the lines of:
“Start your day off with a smile love, like the one you never fail to give me♡” (And I feel like this dude would have very messy handwriting, but when writing these notes he tried his best).
Bf!Ghost made most of the decisions in the relationship, you were very indecisive. This is probably the only thing he mildly dislikes about you - you were going through the trials and tribulations of a lifetime over picking between KFC and McDonald’s, you were persistent about what to order too, so he recommended stuff to you or sometimes ordered for you.
(I just know if you both got drinks, he specifically requested only one straw so you guys could share it).
Bf!Ghost was the “‘Scuse me, she asked for no pickles,” boyfriend, who would secure you a refund and a newly made burger, (mainly due to how intimating he gets at times).
You thoroughly enjoyed him looking out for you, though, knowing that he cared that much about you made your heart flutter only from thinking about it.
PART TWO IS OUT!!! <3
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König Version
Price Version
Gaz Version
Soap Version
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Masterlist
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ash-says · 3 months
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This one is for my girlies who grew up in dysfunctional families.
Girls who don't know healthy love, care and affection. Girls who grew up watching fights, in violent and stressful environments, being picked on by their peers, their own family members.
Know that it's not your job to maintain peace, people please and accommodate yourself to other people's expectations.
Take this as a BLUNT reminder for yourself:
1) Have strong boundaries. Surprise. I know you read this a thousand times but before you eyeroll read this again.
2) Stand up for yourself. It might be scary but sometimes fighting back against your family can be helpful. Do it strategically. Don't rush in blindly. The main goal is survival afterall.
3) No doing drugs, self harm, compulsive relationships, casual sex, alcohol and many destructive, addictive and escapist behavior won't help you in rebelling against your family. What are you three years old???
4) Establish your relationship with God or whatever the hell you believe in. Have a strong belief system. That's the only way you can save yourself and keep yourself on track. Even if you deter on the wrong path it will swing you back. Trust me.
5) Form strong female friendships. PLEASE. Female friendships are literally holiness in disguise. My girls are my biggest assets. The amount of emotional intelligence and support a female can provide. Chefs kiss.
What ? You can't vibe with girls?? You are more of a girl who vibe with boys?? Girls are secretly jealous of you??
Okayyyyy... I am no one to criticize but I think we need to reassess somethings.
At least one female friend. Won't cost you a fortune. Will it???
(If you think you got no one around you. My inbox + Gossip Box is always open.)
6) Academic Validation>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Male validation. Always.
7) Exercise and work out. Woahh did not see it coming right. Well it's important because it helps you in calming down your mind and expressing those repressed energies. Any anger issues babe in the house?? Guess what it's the best outlet for all your angst.
8) This is for those girls who are into toxic households please find a way to get out of there. I won't suggest permanently cause I believe in mending things and parents are a crucial part of your life. But find a way to live your college life or at least two to three years of your life out of your hometown. A lot of things you will understand by yourself then. If you know. You know.
9) Sharpen your people and survival skills. I hate to say this but we are highly susceptible to attracting people who want to take advantage of us. So listen to your gut the next time it warns you against someone.
10) Tone down your intensity. Not everyone is trying to get you or attack you. Coping mechanisms are great they kept/keep you alive but make sure they won't create trouble for you. Keep them in check. Got it??
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hp-hcs · 6 months
Note
Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk
this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah
❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕
also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop
requests open
i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?
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slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected
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mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits
i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)
he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:
“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”
“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”
he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍
and that’s when he falls in love with you
jk, unless????
you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)
he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨
yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”
🤨🤨🤨
interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.
he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33
y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH
your teachers love it <3
theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys
y’all were showering together
(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)
you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️
he loves ur voice <3
even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”
(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)
awkwarddddd
he always lets you put on your music
to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it
(*cough* simp *cough*)
draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth
you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls
you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something
he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like
so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰
(aww, nostalgia <3)
he just looked at you like 😨
you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood
he’s now even more concerned
(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)
((idk babe that’s for you to decide))
blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse
i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not
you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class
oh, he’s in love
🎵😍😍🎶
you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date
(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)
((NOW MURDERRRR))
(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))
enzo: custer — slipknot
it’s your ringtone for someone 😌
like ur mom, or something? idfk
“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶
enz:🧍‍♂️
he doesn’t even know how to react
he’s only a bit terrified
he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards
tom: reincarnate — motionless in white
he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah
and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”
you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist
he would absolutely eat that shit up
it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️
he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:
“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️
babygirl 💞
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cinnaamela · 11 months
Note
Giggling as I write this 🤭🤭🤭
So basically, you and Leon haven’t had sex or anything too sexual in a while. Needless to say, Leon is really pent up and needy… this comes in handy lol.
One evening, while Leon is gaming with the crew, you sneak in and begin to tease him before sucking him off (similarly to your work where you fuck Leon while he’s gaming). Leon’s really sensitive because he hasn’t been touched in a while, so while he thinks he muted his mic—he did not. I’m leaving it in your hands for how the crew reacts!! I just… really need to read this 😈 Thank you for your attention, I love your works!
Giggling because you requested this and thank you for your support my lovely! <33
Definitely gonna make the others clown on Leon when he puts his headset back on to continue gaming, I’ll add a little smth smth maybe the reader teases him by moving her tank top to the side to show the side of her boobs? Maybe trailing her fingers down his happy trail (he definitely has a slightly small happy trail.)
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Teasing Him & Under The Desk Head
Re4, Gamer bf! Leon Kennedy
Sypnosis: (What the request said ^ )
Cw. PURE SMUT, oral (m! Receiving), sucking + jerking him off, public bc ummm the party chat thingy wasn’t on mute kind of & getting caught??, kind of sub! Leon & begging Leon (more so puppy leon ig?), slight praise, pet names: (Baby & sweetheart), lots of teasing towards leon, and mentions of more loving at the end :) IDK IF I HAVE EVERY WARNING DOWN! NOT PROOF READ!
A/N: Loved writing this again and thats for requesting my lovely because my inbox had a moth fly out of it……. FEEL FREE TO REQUEST MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!
SMUT W SOME PLOT AHEAD!! MDNI!!
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You were in the kitchen cleaning after making cookies with Leon, but you had grown a bit bored so you thought you should checkup on him to see what he was doing. As you got closer to the room you heard him yelling at his buddies on the game, “Shut up, chris you’re a asshole for killing me!”.
You chuckled and walked into the closet and changed into a loose fitting tank top and some tight shorts, heading back to watch Leon play his game.
You put your hands on his shoulders while leon whispered to you “Babe, cmon I’m playing a game not right now.”
The others started laughing, Carlos began to speak “Leon I think you should take care of your lady before someone steals her.” he teased him.
Carlos is quite the Mr. Steal yo girl type of guy which made you find him quite funny and he definitely was the charming type.
Leon gets back into his gaming mode, but you have other plans stored for him. Pulling his chair back a bit, “Don’t worry babe, just relax lately you’ve been so pent up…” you whispered into his ear before planting soft kisses onto his neck. Leon shivers once more as his fingers trail up your leg and your hand slides down over his abs and back up again. Leaning in to kiss Leon again and pull away slightly when Leon starts kissing your collarbone, you turn around and plant a quick peck on his lips.
You pulled away and pointed to his headset which he grabbed “Sorry guys I have to take care of something important it won’t take long I promise.” laying it back on the desk putting it on mute, or so he thought.
You took some time to start pulling at the hem of his shirt over his head and throw it on the floor, while kissing him “No touching yet, baby.” You said as you move one side of your tank top revealing the side of your boob, but you stopped there.
“Babe, please…” He begged as he tried to sit still, his chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. You restrain his hands behind his back so he doesn’t touch you, as your hands trail down his happy trail you begin to unbutton his pants “I want to taste you…I need to feel you.” Leon moans in pleasure at your ministrations. Taking Leon’s cock out of his pre-cum covered boxers taking it in your hand you slowly palm the head of his cock looking at Leon who’s eyes are glued to your face, his face getting redder by the second.
“Can I do this, sweetheart?” you ask him as your tongue circles his tip, “Yeah.. yeah baby….” Leon says as he tries to focus on anything else except for what you were doing with his cock that was now fully erect and throbbing at your touch. You prepare to take him into your mouth, as you try to take all of him he pushes your head down onto his cock. “Take it all f’me …Please don’t stop.” he says in between pants and gasps for air. You lick his cock one last time then place him in your mouth sucking his entire cock.
You could hear him moan every time you sucked and nibbled at him and soon you felt yourself get soaked with more pre cum, “Fuck. Mmh— Fuck…” he moaned as he continued to thrust himself into your throat. You continue to suck his cock, taking all of him in your mouth as tears started to form and prick your eyes, eventually gagging around his cock due to how much you liked having him inside your throat, but he began thrusting, “I’m close….Ah- fuck..” Leon said as the climaxes began to build inside him. His orgasm was about to hit and you pulled your mouth off of him and started jerking him off as he started crying due to the pleasure, leaving him in ecstasy.
His cock twitched in your hand as he got closer to his release, “Babe~….Hah- oh…fuck-“ his thighs started to shake as he built up his orgasm, Leon’s body quivered as he came, spattering cum all over your chest and face.
“S-shit…oh god-“, he said through grunts trying to catch his breath, as he collapsed into your embrace “Shh…I’m sorry…” you told as you whiped yourself clean with your hand and licked all off his cum off your fingers. Clinging to his body and hugging his chest tightly you kissed his cheek softly “It’s okay...don't apologize..it happens sometimes.” He said with tears flowing down his cheeks. He wipes his tears from his cheeks as he wraps his arms around you.
You let go of the embrace and went back to work cleaning off the mess you made and throwing away the cups. “Let me wash you off baby.” He suggested, as you nodded. He got a wet paper towel and cleaned you up with it. “Babe, go back to your game the others are probably waiting for you.” you said leaning into his ear and whispering, before leon puts his headset back on he hears the others laughing.
“Hey, guys I’m back! What did i miss.” Leon said waiting for someone to respond.
“Oh nothing…Just the fact that we heard everything. You got it right on, my man!” Chris stated.
Carlos then chimed in “I would say she learned some tips from Jill a couple days ago, I overheard them on the phone.”
Leon laughed “Well, guess I know where she gets her information for new things to try from. That’s besides the point we don’t talk about what you heard, got it guys?” He said in a stern and slightly demanding voice, which you found hot.
“Yeah bro’ we wouldn’t dream of it~” Chris answered teasingly.
You rolled your eyes at their shenanigans and layed in the bed on your phone waiting for Leon to wrap up his game for the night and come love on you some more.
As soon as he finishes his game you give him a quick peck and tell him to ‘go on, I’ll be here, I’m not gonna fall asleep again tonight without getting some more love from you.’ you said smirking at him as he turns back and nods with a smile.
You then turn your attention back to your phone and watch Tik Tok and see the latest trends and stuff.
Your boyfriend has been playing for about a couple hours before he told the bros he was getting off for the night and that he was tired, that he will most likely play tomorrow if he isn’t busy with his girlfriend, which is you. He turned off his system before getting in bed with you and spooning you until you fell asleep with his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.
He knew you loved being in his strong embrace and that you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight without it. You both always slept better when you were tangled together like this especially during sex or in bed. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep too.
~
The next morning when you woke up you looked over at Leon and couldn’t believe the scene that greeted you, which you couldn’t help but laugh at. He was still sleeping peacefully in your arms and your face was facing towards his. His beautiful blue eyes stared into yours as you watched his eyelashes fluttering every now and then, his hair had bits of black hair on it and he looked like an angel, as his face relaxed and the corners of his mouth curved upwards slightly. He really was a beautiful sight, even though he looked very sleepy.
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cinematicgf · 1 year
Text
Breaking the Girl~ 18+ dom!joel
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Summary: as a casual photographer, you find the opportunity to go with your neglectful boyfriend to his hometown for the summer thrilling. Taking photos of his neighbors and friends whilst not blowing money on a huge vacation sounds perfect, a small job with his mum, neighborhood summer get-togethers and weekend beach trips accompanied by your trusty camera, why not?! But when a certain charming Southern man, known as your boyfriend’s old boss, enters the mix, you cant take your lens off the fine older man, and he cant seem to take it off you either.
Pairings: (no-outbreak) dom!joel miller x sub f!reader
Warnings and notes: 18+, smutty smutty smut, dom!joel and sub!f!reader, piv, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, doll, darling), dirty talk, drinking, swearing, oral sex (f! receiving), arguments, age gap (reader is afab! in their early 20s and Joel in in his mid-early 50s), reader in uni, bit of a praise kink ngl, boyfriend being an asshole and Joel being just as charming as ever, reader has some cunty thoughts but good for her honestly, just pure unbridled filth with a semi developed backstory<3 no use of y/n
~ 7.2k (oops)
A/N: hi all<3 I wanna thank you guys for the support of my previous Joel fic, I appreciate it so much<3 this is just a string of pure filth with limited backstory. my inbox is open for requests as usual, your feedback is always welcome and if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog<3
~
She was the girl Left alone Feeling the need To make me her home
I don't know what, when or why The twilight of love had arrived
~
Summer was approaching quick and with your exams out of the way and all the stress of the last few months, the final week of university seemed kinda pointless. Yet here you were in class, daydreaming about all the things you would get up to. Perhaps you could rent a sea-side batch and spend your warm afternoons in the ocean before settling down with a book and a bottle of wine for the evenings. Or maybe, you could blow your barista allowance and go to Florida for the sweltering months. Truth is, you didn’t have any plans for the summer, and with the days counting down much too fast to comprehend, you found yourself at a loss for what to do on your break. No matter what you did, however, you know your trusty camera would be tucked to your side, film loaded in and an extra pocket in your bag to store the developed photos. Photography had been a passion of yours for as long as you could remember. You had saved up birthday and Christmas money for years in order to afford a camera for yourself and you had never gone anywhere without it. Unfortunately, the impending doom of your hobby “having no jobs”, as your father put it, meant that you had to change your uni major. Although, you had been cheeky and added in a photography paper here and there, just to satisfy yourself and to no knowledge of your father.
The sound of a backpack being thrown down next to you made you retreat from your thoughts with a jump. Your boyfriend pushed himself into a seat next to you, “So babe”, he began; god, how many times had you told him you hated being called that. “I was thinking, for the summer, you could come back home with me?” he finished. You looked at him with a frown, the last thing you wanted to do was spend another summer cooped up in a small town like the one you grew up in, the one you visited every holidays, just to be wrapped in uncomfortably tight hugs from elders commenting on, “well well, I haven’t seen you since you were this big”, making their hand level with their knees, “look at how pretty you’ve gotten, you have your mothers eyes dear, you must be so proud of her”, they would always say, giving a warm smile to your father as he too looked at you with a grin, knowing how insane you must think these strangers were. You loved seeing your father on breaks, but c’mon, sometimes you yourself needed some time to yourself.
You contemplated his offer briefly, “Hmm I don’t kno—” “Cmon!” he insisted, unwarily cutting you off, “It’ll be great, we can stay in my parents sleep out, I’ll be working for one of my neighbors who I had a job with in high school, and I’ve already asked my mom if she can find some work for you around her office. On weekends we can walk to the beach and go to the mall and whatnot, c’mon babe, it’ll be fun”. Great, a summer working in an office and hanging out with your boyfriends’ rich parents, sounds… delightful. But truth is, you didn’t have anything else to do over the summer, and maybe this would be a way to relax without spending a boatload of your hard-earned money on a shitty trip. “Hmm... fine, you’ve convinced me”, you pretend to be annoyed about it. He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the cheek which you ignore. “It’ll be great, we can go up Saturday afternoon. First day of summer, the adults in the neighborhood usually throw a barbecue at Joel’s, the guy I’m working for. Yeah, it’s a little rowdy with drunk adults and a pool thrown into the mix but I always find myself actually having fun”. At this point you felt a little excitement creep through you. You arrive and immediately there’s a party, hell yeah. Who cares about drunk middle-aged people when at least there are free drinks. “I’m sure we will have a great time”, you force a smile as he gazes at you, “as long as I’m with you”, he replies earnestly before adding repulsively, “can you bring something hot to wear, like those little shorts- I wanna impress everyone in town that you’re mine”. You cringed at the sudden ruin of the mood and his claiming you as his. It sends a nauseous feeling straight to your stomach with a hint of rage.
Six months ago, you may have laughed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, but truth is, you had been meaning to break things off with him for a couple of weeks now. His constant unawareness to vile comments and the fact that you were always treated as an accessory to him, as if you weren’t a person at all, had just brought you to your breaking point. Not to mention your friend Em, who dated his much kinder friend, had broken the news that him and a girl in another one of his classes had been fucking on the regular. This should’ve hurt, but truth be told, you two had been distant for months now. The only reason that you hadn’t broken it off sooner was the slamming of exam period, as you spend two weeks with your head buried in books, barely seeing anyone, including him (you had kinda forgot about him over that time, if you were honest with yourself, and, you know you weren’t supposed to say it, but it felt kinda nice, not having the responsibility of constantly thinking about a significant other). Remembering all the outliers in your relationship, you cursed yourself for saying yes to the trip and not just calling it quits to spend summer alone. Well, you guessed you wouldn’t be seeing him all that much, with both of you working and you could use the excuse you wanted to check out the town to get away for a bit. God, you felt like a major bitch, but still, it was a free trip. So, fuck it. Call it compensation for how neglectful he had been of your relationship.
The trip back to his hometown was draining. You couldn’t help but wish your boyfriend would just ease up on the constant chatter so the two of you could sit in comfortable silence with the music blaring instead. He told you all about his neighbors and his parents and you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by this Joel Miller character he was working for. Single parent, self-made wealthy contractor with a charm about him, or so your boyfriend complimented, as he told the story of how Joel had offered him a job in high school when times were tight through his parents’ divorce. “Listen okay, literally everyone in town swoons for him but I’ve never seen him with anyone, I don’t know, maybe he’s just not looking to settle down. I personally don’t see it, he’s just an old man”, he mentions offhandedly. You were a little nervous to meet him after the string of admiration by your boyfriend.
Once you had arrived and his stepfather and mother had showered you with acclimation (“My goodness Sammy, look at this gorgeous thing, how did you manage to lock her down”). Getting ready for the much-awaited barbecue, you settled for simple, as the humid evening approaching told you that anymore layers, and you would be drenched in sweat. You added some accessories, equipping yourself with your camera and extra film as you and your boyfriend headed across the road to, supposedly, Joel’s house.
Already there was a congregation of neighbors and friends, all gathered around a pool in the backyard, beers in hands, chatting enthusiastically with others they, presumably, were all familiar with. It was utterly suburban, the sight bemusing you slightly as you force away a smirk. Making your way across the lawn and through already intoxicated neighbors you find a full cooler, preparing yourself with a beer before observing the strangers. Your boyfriend had taken off to greet friendly faces, taking the opportunity, you fixate your lens to your eye to capturing the action.
A sweep of the back garden and a few shots later your lens focuses on a tall man leaning on a porch pillar. You can’t help but stare through the disguise of your camera. The cross of his tanned broad arms stretching his t shirt against his chest, making the expanse that much more noticeable. One hand jammed into his pocket, the other superlatively cradling a beer.
His patchy beard lined his structured jaw, squinting as he laughed, dimples inverting the sides of his mouth exquisitely. All these featured crafted the most handsome man you think you had ever laid eyes on. Pressing the shutter, you snap a photo of him mid-laugh as a neighbor entertained him. His admirable laugh carried across the garden, a melody to your ears, you can’t help but smile to yourself.
“Babe!” you boyfriend calls from across the lawn, cringing once more at the pet name, you wander across the garden after being summoned. “This here is Joel”. Your eyes meet the older man finally greeting the stranger who has piqued your interest the past few hours. He had a southern charm about him, and the closer you get, you can see how broad he really is. His muscles sculpted through his shirt, the veins in his arm mimicking those of Michelangelo's David. What the hell was your boyfriend talking about “just an old man”, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, allure and all.
“Ah, so this is she”, he envelopes your hand in his, his calloused palms connect more gently than you expected with your own young, soft padding. “I’m Joel”, he introduces himself, “I noticed you snapping photos over there”, his smile softens his features, you can’t help but mirror his beaming. “Speaking of”, you say, reaching into your pocket, you hand him the photo you had taken earlier; his attractive face radiating from the Polaroid, “Here”.
Taking it, he inspects it closely, you hold your breath, faintly, always nervous of reactions to your craft, no matter how friendly the gathering. A mesmerizing smile breaks out on his feature, “Probably the best photo taken of me ever. And that’s saying something”, he adds, grinning. “Its all yours”, you offer, watching him pocket the photo with pride.
Joel and you fall into conversation seamlessly. You tell of your uni and photography endeavors as Joel starts telling you about his contracting business. How he got it off the ground with the help of his brother, Tommy, who was lounging on a pool chair beside Joel’s daughter Sarah, who he mentioned with a sparkle of joy in his eye any proud father would have. “So, after Sarah’s mom left, I decided to get my shit togeth—”
“Holy shit”, your boyfriend interrupts. Joel raises his eyebrows in confusion, and you sigh in question, as you were enjoying talking to Joel, “Listen, my old high school buddies are having a boys night at theirs”, he raises up his phone, showing the brightened notification on the screen. You don’t bother to read it. “I gotta go babe, sorry. Ill see you later on tonight, okay?”, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving you standing there speechless before weaving through the crowd of people in the back garden and leaving. You’re shocked, frankly. Sure, he’s been neglectful of you, but this was a new low. Ditching you at his neighbor’s party to go hang out with other people… you are truly dumbstruck. Tears of humiliation and pure anger burn on your lashes, threatening to leak down your face. You turn your attention to Joel leaning next to you, the same stunned expression accessorizing his features, brow slightly furrowed. “Well,”, he sighs after a beat, “that was a bit fucking rude. Sorry about th—“
“Excuse me”, it was your turn to interrupt him, as you fled from his domineering presence, frankly, embarrassed by your bastard of a boyfriend. Tears lighting a fire behind your eyes as your blood boiled.
“Fuck”, you took a look at the bottom of your empty beer bottle, heading over to the cooler. “Fuck!!”, you repeated to yourself upon opening the now empty chiller. Adults really did drink a lot huh, you thought, glaring daggers at the once full bin before wandering across the garden and inside the house.
You navigated the modern, utterly suburban house plan until you found a garage. Damn middle-aged men and their garages, you swear every dad you knew decorated their garage better than their own rooms. Thank god Joel was no different, because you knew there would be a fridge there filled with the good stuff. Once alone with your new full beverage, you let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. You were here, alone now, with people only he knew, did he expect you to just stand in the corner and drink by yourself, observing the party? Did he expect you to just go home? Honestly, the mere thought of it sent a rush of anger traversing up your spine. “Asshole”, you muttered to yourself, taking a swig of your stolen beer.
“Didn’t think pretty girls were thieves”, you heard a teasing voice behind you. You whipped your head around to make out Joel in the doorway of the garage, muscular arms tucked into his sides again, one supporting his almost empty beer. Had he… followed you? He uncrossed his ankles and made his way over to where you stood by the fridge.
“The door was open, arrest me officer”, you retort sarcastically, already over this whole shindig after being ditched by your boyfriend.
He chuckled lightly before noticing your peeved demeanor. “Ah”, he whispers to himself, “boyfriend troubles huh? More so, than the whole ordeal before hm, darling”. You glance at him through your lashes and roll your eyes, “You don’t know the half of it.” Sighing, he moved closer to you, his elbow caressing yours slightly, he looks down at you with an expression you cant quite make out, “All I can say is”, he begins, his voice low and gravelly, “if I had a pretty thing like you for myself, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight”.
Was he… making a move on you? You couldn’t tell. In your drunken state, you didn’t really care either, why not pursue it. Your boyfriend hadn’t touched you in months, the least Joel could say was no; so, fuck it, right?
You inch toward him, “and what would you do if you had me, Mr. Miller”, you coo, your voice tantalizing, wavering on a whisper as you gaze at him.
“Maybe one day I’ll get to show you”, he smirks. The two of you are unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning on your face and can smell his cologne. He is inundating your senses and you can’t get enough. You take the opportunity to weave your hands around his waist. He reaches an unbearably large hand up to your face and skims your cheekbone, his sizeable thumb halting on your bottom lip. You use the opportunity to take his finger into your mouth, suckling gently before releasing it with a soft kiss on the padding of his digit. You can feel him harden against you through his jeans.
“Fuckkkken hell”, he drawls, “temptress,” a darkness scintillates in his eyes.
A loud bang of a door close by followed by a whining, “Daddddddd”, has the both of you jumping apart as Sarah appears in view of the doorway. The young girl is rubbing her eyes, messy curls adorning her cute face. Slumping, she complains again, “Dad, I’m tired, can you tuck me in, please”. Joel gives her a warm smile, “I'll be right there baby girl, go get into bed okay, gimme a second”. She notices you for the first time, “I like your hair”, she grins, you cant help but smile at the young girl, “thank you honey, I like yours too”. With that, she disappears back through the door and up the stairs as Joel’s attention turns back to you, his former dark, eager look has returned.
“Come around tomorrow.” It’s not a question. Rather a demand. One hand engulfs your upper arm, giving it a light squeeze as he plants a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving you in the garage to comprehend the exciting conversation you had just had. Before he does, however, he stops in the doorway and turns back around to face you. “For the record, your boyfriend’s an asshole. Has been since high school.”, he gives you a grin but there’s a hint of concern behind his eyes. It was a shitty thing for your boyfriend to do and he understands that.
Your boyfriend had passed out on his parent’s couch when you left Joel’s house, so you made your way to the sleep out, thrilled to have some time alone to think about the events of the night. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that the entire conversation with Joel felt good. Right, even; like Joel was actually trying to talk to you as any decent human being would. And maybe the bar was on the ground for your after your shitty relationship, but you didn’t feel guilty about wanting the older man. And he wanted you too. Maybe it’ll only be for a quick fuck, but it felt nice to be wanted. You thought about the conversation again before slipping a finger down through your wet folds, rubbing quick fast circles to the nub of your clit, exhaling soft moans. You imagined your hand wasn’t your own but Joel's.
The next day you woke up early. Your nerves shot as you take a shower, taking the opportunity of seeing Joel again to dress in lacy, barely there lingerie under your clothes (why you packed it… just in case, you supposed). If nothing happened between the two of you, or he admitted that perhaps he was drunk and just fucking around, then nobody would know your effort but you. However, if he did get to undress you, the choice to dress up would be an ideal one.
The door is open when you arrive, the summer entering uninvited through the hallway of the cozy home. Entering the doorway to the living room, you knock on the door frame, Joel appearing moments later behind you on the stairs. “Hi again, doll”, he greets you with a genuine smile, walking to the kitchen. Those dimples, carved by Donatello himself, you supposed. “You want something to drink?”, you nod as he leads the way past you. Handing you a dewy beer, you make your way to the couch to sit on the edge like a nervous child and admire the man in front of you. His t shirt tightening at the sleeves, barely able to fit over his muscular, slightly tanned arms. Jeans, ungodly tight around his crotch. You blush at the realization that you’re staring at him in all his glory. Your breath hitches as you focus your gaze on the skew of family photos dotted around the living me.
“Why’d you ask me over?” you come right out and question. In your drunken state last night, you didn’t care if it looked like you were coming onto him, if he said no, your intoxication dulled your embarrassment. But now, in your sober state, you needed to know, so as not to do just that. “I wanna take care of you”, he expressed nonchalantly, his focus occupied on finding a bottle opener. “And how do you presume to do that”, you continue, bemused by his confused expression lightening once he found what he was looking for, popping the cap before coming to sit next to you on the couch. He crossed his ankle over his knee, your eyes unfortunately for you, travel straight to the bulge in his jean. Perv, you curse to yourself. “Well, it just seems like your boyfriend isn’t doing a very good job, is he sweetheart?”. An exasperated sigh emits from your throat, your eyes roll unwillingly at the mention of your partner. You lean against the back of the couch, head resting on his forearm relaxing lazily behind you, as you take a sip from your bottle.
You realize you really do want him… badly. “Maybe I do need your help, Mr. Miller”, lolling your neck to look at him through your lashes, putting on a sad face whilst the hint of seduction in your breathy tone communicates everything to Joel.
He leans in and kisses you, gently at first. You deepen it, needing more of him as you moan into his mouth, giving him easy access to slide his tongue across your teeth. Tongue and teeth collide in a hot, messy kiss. His hand glides up your waist to your throat, where he cups your jaw with two giant fingers and squeezes gently. Quickly realizing you’re in the middle of the living room, gasping pulling away. “Shit, is Sarah home?”, you pant. “Friend’s house”, Joel says shortly, reconnecting your lips to his.
“Then, make me feel good Joel”, you coo, teeth running over his bottom lip. He exhales a low animistic groan, watching his eyes darken to a lust-filled gaze. “Yes ma’am”.
Next thing you know, he is walking you backwards to the spare bedroom downstairs. Both of you are so needy, you can’t even wait to make it upstairs to his own bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, he works at your panties, lips connecting with your throat, neck, collarbone, a symphony of needy groans accompany your pleasureful sighs quickly filling the empty space of the room. Slipping a calloused hand between your thighs, he begins working to collect your arousal, coating the tips of his fingers before slipping a digit into your cunt. You exhale a gasp, he swallows into a groan, “Fuck, doll,” he breathes softly, watching his finger pumping in and out of you, “does this pussy ever get this wet for your boyfriend?” He palms himself through his jeans, relieving some of his building tension. “No Joel”, you gasp, “not like it does for you”. Mascara gathers at your lashes as you squirm on his sheets. Joel’s touch fills you with ecstasy, but you still need more.
“Joel—” you whine, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, desire and devotion flooding his features, you follow his line of vision to the sight of his digit fucking you, then to your camera lying on his bedside table. You see the gears turning in his head, barely able to comprehend what he is up to before he grabs the camera, taking it in one large hand, positioning the base on his palm as he bends his fingers to the shutter button. You turn your head away in bliss, all you can focus on are his expert fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. “C'mon baby, you don’t need to be shy around me”. The camera looks miniature in his hand, the flash blinds you, snapping your pure pleasure, freezing it as a passionate moment in time. Joel holds the strap by his teeth, yanking the filthy portrait out, throwing it on the bedside table. Fuck, that just made you even wetter, if that was even possible. “Joel—ah- Joel” you continue to whimper, unworried about the physical evidence of your filthy endeavors due to your young, committed cunt clenching unwilling around his fingers by how good it feels.
“I know, sweetheart”, he whispers understandingly, “Just gotta warm you up a little longer, okay sweet girl”, he slips another digit between your walls. Your back arches against the mattress, head thrown back as a string of moans and whimpers tumble from your lips. Joel’s eyes darken into a hungry, heavy look with every squirm and curse that falls from your lips. Your eyebrows knit together in pleasure as his filthy words and his tantalizing, skillful fingers aid the coil in your stomach to release slowly. Joel, camera in hand, snaps two more of him fucking you with his fingers, discarding them on the table again. “Fuck, my own little cam girl”, he drawls in your ear, smirking, “we got four left, gotta use them wisely now”.
Joel abruptly pulls his fingers out, leaving you gasping for air, whining, as the bliss slowly fades, your arousal still hot and heavily in need of him like the air you breathe. He drags his jeans and boxers off, tossing them carelessly onto the floor by the bed. Taking in his girth, you understand why he had to warm you up first. You damn near moan at the sheer side of it as the slick from your pussy assists his thick fingers to pump himself a couple of times. He smirks at your needy expression. Cocky bastard, he knows he’s big too. Settling between your legs, his tip of his cock teases your entrance. You can feel his pre-cum mixing with your slick, creating an exquisite cocktail. Repetition falling from his lips in an unsteady gravelly tone as he coerces you to take ever inch of him inside your cunt, with a melody of “good girl” and “you’re doing so good for me, pretty baby”.
Joel slides inside you so easily, with how wet you are for him. A soft hiss, and then his features mold into a symphony of pleasure and hunger. His capable fingers tangle in your hair he glides his length in and out, painfully slow. You finally find your voice amongst the soft gasps and ah’s. “Joel— need more, please”, your voices emerges as a breathy whisper; making his features darken with craving. “I know baby, I know”, he coos, “you’re so full right now, aren’t you. That’s it sweet girl, you’re so good, taking every inch of me into that pretty little pussy”.
Your mind is whirling 100 miles per hour as he whispers filthy phrases in your ear, the promise to fuck you hard and slow being almost unbearable to comprehend. His thick cock stretches you out, rock hard, forcing your legs wide open as your ankles cross around his waist for support. It’s too much, fuck! After a few seconds of adjusting to this size, he pulls all the way out. You whine slightly at the loss of him inside you before he slams back into your cunt, filling you all the way before repeating again and again and again. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses your g spot like no other mans has before. All the while he has one large, veiny hand around your throat providing a slight bit of pressure, his thumb caresses your lips, opening them to slide a finger inside. You take the hint as a call back to last night at the party, slipping his fingers to the back of your throat and sucking on them. He groans out a string of profanities, eyes glued to you as you feel his cock twitch inside you at the image before him. You release his fingers, a string of spit still attaching you and him, he uses his thumb to spread it around your lips before dragging your chin down to open your mouth, pressing his lips to yours delicately. You can barely keep up with his kiss as he continues to slam into you at a rapid pace. You’re moaning out his name, a chorus of Joel, Joel Joel-, he smothers your whines with his lips. Rocking his hips up into you slowly, he brings his thumb down between the two of you, his calloused finger after years of contracting, makes contact with your clit, rubbing circles to your neglected nub. You push his hand away after your body jolts from the stimulation and he lets out a low chuckle. “You about to come, sweetheart?”, his voice is restrained and needy. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, teasing you as the crescendo builds. You nod quickly. Squeezing your eyes shut, your moans begin to become rapid sighs on your tongue.
“Eyes on me, doll”, Joel demands, you open them to be met by the southern man, slamming his hips into you. Fuck he looks so good on top of you right now. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead and chest, his hair messy, two curls decorating his forehead. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful sight. He lifts himself up on his knees, grabbing the camera once more, he takes a selection of photos of you taking him deep into you. He thumbs lightly at your clit for a shot, before the film runs out, a satisfyingly dirty collection of photos to remember your time together by lying next to the both of you.
Your hips move together in conjunction. His hands weave around your back, pulling you into him as his lips attached to your breasts, he anchors his tantalizingly expert fingers into your hair, the plush of your ass, circling your waist— Joel holds you as close as physically possible, his muscular arms crush you, teeth grazing the nub of your breast. There’s a starving kind of desire laced into his kiss. Involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, you slide your hands around his neck to hold yourself steady.
Then, he’s pulling away slightly, his hungry eyes watching his length pump in and out of you, as he plants a strong hand on your thigh, spreading you open to receive impossibly more of him. You are simply a toy at this point, as he dictates the sheer brutal pace of how he fucks you. “God, you look so beautiful, full of my cock, doll”. He moves his lips wetly up your throat, your head thrown back. He smiles against your mouth, you give him a shaky “mmm”, he ardently peaks your lips, releasing after each kiss to watch your cock-drunken expression, his name the only word you can attempt, like worship on the edge of your tongue. “Joel- Joel- Joel, mmm”, you stutter a praise for the captivated audience, who is relishing in the sound of your pleading gasps.
“I wanna see how appreciative you are for this cock, baby, keep your eyes on me”.
His voice is firm as his hardened hands caresses the length of your spine. You feel him flex inside you, his dominant gaze securing you as he speeds up, watching as your tits bounce with his rough strokes. “Ohmygod–Joel–”, the promise of your climax rapidly approaches, the ache undoes all the tension inside you, overtaking every inch of you, causing your thighs to squeeze him impossibly tighter.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me now, Darlin, you’re doing so good, come around me, doll”. The praise, the pet names, him inside you, all sends you over the edge. Your cunt starts to flood and shudder around him, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm release. You squeeze around Joel’s cock so tight; your lungs can only gasp out a mixture whines as you come around him. Joel continues to fuck you through your orgasm, its hard and fast to the point where you can feel another coil build inside you. He can feel it too, shifting your hips up slighting in a way that makes your mind blow, you nearly scream out at how good it feels. “That’s my good girl, I need another one, baby. You can give me another. That’s it, Yes, give it to me pretty girl”, his lips attach to a soft spot behind your ear, making you moan his name, your delicate hands rake through his hair. He pulls out for a brief second, flipping you onto your side as he lies behind you, sliding back inside you again. Its almost as if he never left, you’re so drunk off him fucking you that you can barely comprehend what is happening. Just that it feels so good, his hand weaves around you to play with your nipple, squeezing it slightly as his lips pepper kisses to your neck. he gently hooks your leg over his, stretching you open impossibly wider. “I wanna feel that pussy squeezeing me again, baby”. He continues lacing a string of filthy words into your ear while retreating back to his signature move when the two of you first started, pulling all the way out and slamming into you again.
“Lemme, feel you comin’ when I fill you up, good girl.”
Your second orgasm blinds you as you moan through your bliss. Joel’s gravely groans behind you sound like a melody. His warm breath in your ear and progressive sloppiness, encasing the room in leud noises, accompanied by his broken moans signals to you that he is close too. You turn you head to capture his lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm spark through you, your thighs twitching against his. He meets them brutally, and you know you’re going to be bruised inside and out when this is over. By the time he’s pumped you full of his cum and pulled out, it’s leaking down the inside of your thighs. You attempt to catch your breath, as his cock settles between the two of you on your lower back. You cant help but smile as he rubs lazy circles to your bare hip.
“Fucken hell, that was incredible”, he whispers, more so to himself than to you. “You are something else, doll”, he breathes, still catching his breath. You turn yourself around so that you’re half on top of him, throwing your leg over his so his cock is resting between your thighs. “You’re not so bad yourself”, you retort, smirking up at him.
“You know, you look so fucking pretty on top of me like that, darlin’. Next time, ill have to get a shot of you riding me”. Your heart jumps slightly at the promise of a next time, which he notices, following up his sentiment.
“Are you staying the whole summer”, he questions, his roaming hands worshiping your waist. “Sure am”, you respond hopefully. “Well then, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon”, he gives you a genuine smile, capturing your lips against lip for a delicate kiss, his patchy,lightly groomed beard scratching softly at your cupid’s bow.
You’re still unable to form a coherent sentence, as you feel his slick cocktailed with your own leaking out of your cunt. You slide off him, propping yourself up on a trembling elbow, watching Joel pull his jeans back up over his hips. “Until next time then”, he promises, gliding your panties up your still-weak legs, a wet patch already forming on the fabric. Aren’t you glad you decided to wear these. He hands you the photos and your camera as you attempt to dress yourself again, feeling weak and so empty without him already. Handing them to you, he slips one into his jean pocket with a cheeky comment. Walking you to the door, he kisses you deeply, his grey-flecked beard scratching your cheeks. After your goodbyes you can’t help but miss him. Hell, you’d only known the older man two days; still, you wanted his company more and more as the hours went by, so you reached for what he had given you to remember you by, “until next time”.
You stand in the sleep-out kitchen, admiring the Polaroid’s he had taken of you. You filter through them, blushing more at the sight of each one, dirtier than the last, too caught up to hear the door open. “Hey”, the familiar voice makes you jump. Your boyfriend, out of breath comes stalking through the door. You scramble to hide the photos, collecting them in a bundle, attempting to put them in your jean pocket. You force a smile at him as his eyes travel down to the photos in your hand. “From the party right, lemme take a look at those,” he says enthusiastically, closing the gap between the two of you as he reaches for them. “No”, you try to brush it off, “the lighting isn’t right, they didn’t turn out great, ya know, night shooting is a bitch”, you try to pull the photos further from his grasp, but he has a firm hold on them, yanking them slightly. You gasp as they flutter gracefully to the ground, face up, dropping to your knees to quickly pick them up but he’s already seen. “What the fuck”, he whispers, grabbing one and gazing it, a deep-rooted frown carved into his brow. It was you, mouth frozen in a pleasureful ‘ah’ as a peak of Joel entering you was seen at the bottom of the frame. “You wanna tell me what the fuck this is”, his voice was wavering on a yell.
You decided not to try to explain, “you wanna tell me about the girls you’ve been fucking these past few months, huh?”, you retort. “Everyone knows, everyone has told me to break up with you because of it, shit, you don’t even try to keep it a secret”. You voice is laced with venom, it was high time this discussion was happening, you just wished you had the courage to bring it up on your own, and not in this unwanted circumstance.
“Dont change the subject, who is he?”, he demands, his tone reaching shouting point. “Take a wild fucking guess. Do you need a hint? He stayed with me while you ditched my ass at your neighborhood party. While you humiliated me by just fucking leaving me there with strangers like the asshole you are.” You can feel rage-filled hot tears collecting at your lash line reminiscing about the event. “I know you’re going to try to break it off and think its your own doing but trust me, this”, you direct your finger between yourself and him, “this, has been over for a long time”. You push past him with force, grabbing your bag which you hadn’t even bothered to unpack, thank fuck, what a nice coincidence. You stomp toward the door.
“Fine”, he responds, “but as if he’s going to want you. He’s a middle-aged man with a kid, you were just a fuck”. It spirals you. You turn on your heels to look at him, he is frowning on the verge of tears (how many times had you been there before in his presence) and there’s a contortion of anger in his face, “At least he actually made me come”, you retorted hotly, walking out the door before you remember an extra detail. You pop your head back through the door to utter, “three times, actually”. And then you’re off. You ask his mother to drive you to the train station, explaining the split, briefly, and that you didn’t feel comfortable to stay. She insisted you did, kind lady, but didn’t pry into the details.
Once you had boarded and the train sped away from the dreaded events of the town, you felt relief course through you, no longer chained to that asshole. Sure, you know you should’ve done it sooner, and yeah, it wasn’t an ideal option what had happened, but this meant you could have some time to yourself this summer.
As you were back at square one, you daydreamed of the handful of friends who usually spent their summers on campus to call once you got back. Your phone screen lighting up with a ding, caught you off guard, the name causing your heart to skip a beat.
“It’s Joel. I heard the rundown from his mother, got your number in the process. Are you alright, doll?” he writes. You read it in his voice, subconsciously smiling at how his pet names aren't limited to face to face conversations.
You look at the bright screen in disbelief. He asked your exes mother for your number, meaning he wanted to stay in contact. Perhaps? One could only hope. You didn’t let your excitement get the better of you, however.
“Guess word travels fast. I’m fine, it should’ve happened sooner, honestly. I’m so sorry I got you involved”. You put your phone down, not expecting a reply after your apology. But the immediate ding had not only butterflies, but a whole zoo trampling around your stomach.
“If you’re going to be at your dorm over the summer, let me come visit sometime darling? Tommy offered to work more after your ex quit, so my plate is free”. He adds, much to your delight, “plus I think Sarah would love to see the campus.”
You smiled at the thought of showing the young girl around your college, she would be in awe of the library, you thought, remembering a glimpse of a large collection of books strewn across the table and shelf in the living room. You started to type a reply to Joel before another message comes through.
“and, for the record, those photos were hot, sweetheart”, he adds, a blush coloring your face, your gaze immediately drifting to the pocket of your bag where they lay, safe, sound, and where no one would be able to see, thank god.  
“I suppose I could work something out, for you” you reply, a smiling creeping across your features before double texting, “you know, I have extra film in my dorm... for emergency”. Discarding your phone on the table in front of you, you watch the countryside melt into a blur, feeling the most relaxed and content you had in a while.
~
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