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#JUST A DAD AND HIS DAUGHTER PLAYING AROUND BYE
heytheredeann · 10 months
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screampied · 8 days
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‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,
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ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)
wc. 6k
warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.
dbf! toji masterlist
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“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”
you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…
just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.
skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”
“oh yeah?”
as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”
“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”
“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”
“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”
you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.
three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower
wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol
shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????
kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)
iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin
“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”
“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.
your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.
he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”
toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.
of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.
you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…
“i meant what i said,” you mutter.
while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”
his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”
with such simple words, trust and believe he does.
toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.
for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.
your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”
“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.
oh, you were soaked alright.
a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”
dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”
you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.
although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.
BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this
gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…
FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<
you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.
squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.
“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.
side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.
candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.
so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.
“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”
his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.
each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.
after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.
“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”
“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.
he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.
toji fushiguro…
a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?
. . .
unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?
once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.
that was . . embarrassing.
the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.
oops.
“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.
you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.
all thanks to toji.
you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”
“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”
your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.
chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up
zorosballswallower: NOOOOO
anonymoususer: dad?
gojoclitoru: lol no.
and with many others the comments continue to flood.
majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”
“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.
“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”
my girl…
for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.
he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.
“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”
“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”
“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.
it hits you like a semi-truck.
illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.
in your mind, you’re thinking . .
finally, the good part.
toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”
so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.
the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”
“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.
testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.
the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.
with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…
you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”
“huh?”
“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”
glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.
“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.
“please what?”
“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.
toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”
you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.
“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.
a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.
arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.
“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )
and toji’s just so fucking big.
he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.
metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.
the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.
a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.
languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.
toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.
“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.
“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”
“i missed you t—.”
“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”
you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.
“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.
it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.
with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.
gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(
willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…
iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru
hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom
your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.
he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.
the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.
“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”
“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”
“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”
he was right.
then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.
you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.
“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.
you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.
he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.
sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”
“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.
“yes what, girl.”
you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.
“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”
toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.
shit.
he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.
“honeyyy? you up there?”
you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.
already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.
maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.
dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.
“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”
his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.
eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.
“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.
so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.
“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.
“come here, princess.”
it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.
you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.
simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.
breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.
toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.
“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.
“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.
you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.
it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.
and yet for once, you have him speechless.
toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”
“ . . . ”
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3K notes · View notes
tender-rosiey · 8 months
Note
Hi!! Loving dad! gojo :)
I love ballet and I love gojo, so could you do gojo bringing his cute little daughter to ballet class please?
twirl — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: hehe I am so happy dad!gojo is getting some love; hope you enjoy
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“you got your water bottle?”
“mhm!”
“your shoes?”
“yup!”
“did you give mommy a kiss?”
“yeah!”
“good girl; now, do a twirl.”
she excitedly does as told and squeals in happiness when satoru picks her up and spins her around, “that’s my pretty little princess!”
he gently puts her down and she holds his index finger. he blows you a kiss then bends to tell her, “say bye to mommy.”
“bye, mommy! I love you!”
you chuckle, “I love you too, sweetie! have fun!”
and so satoru embarks on a journey to d/n’s ballet class.
the car ride is full of d/n’s favorite songs accompanied by her dad’s horrible singing that she somehow likes.
when he gets there, he notices that he is the only dad there, save for two other cool dads.
the mothers are also completely enamored by satoru, and while another time he would boast in the attention, his priority right now is his daughter, his daughter that looks very scared and nervous.
he sits on the ground so he is at eye level with her, “what’s up, pretty?”
she pads her way into his arms, and he instantly embraces her. he gently pats her back, and the last thing on his mind is how uncomfortable the position is for him. her little hands clutch his shirt, “what if I do bad?”
“I know you will do amazing,” he grins and squishes her cheeks, “and even if you do, mistakes are okay, and most importantly, daddy’s always here to save the day!”
d/n nods with a small smile. she gives him a tight hug, before she pulls back and starts fidgeting with her fingers. she looks up to him with matching azure eyes, “can you dance with me?”
he abruptly stands up then points at a small boy, “get me a tutu!”
and that’s how you found your husband killing it with d/n on her ballet class.
they did have to put him further away from the kids because of his gigantic legs, but he is still having the time of his life. d/n is also very entertained with her dad and is trying to copy his every move, completely forgetting about the ballet teacher.
the mothers are also very amused by the act, with some nudging their husbands to do the same. little do they know that satoru is unmatched in whatever he tries, especially when he is trying to impress his little princess.
she starts squealing and jumping in place, “daddy, you’re so cool!”
he spins around before stopping to peck her cheek, “thank you, cutie!”
“satoru, what are you—?”
“wifey!” he screams before launching at you and pulling you into one big bear hug. of course, satoru is a show-off, and he likes to make a statement. that’s why he dips you and kisses you in front of everyone in the room. he pulls you back up, chuckling at your shocked expression.
“mommy! mommy!” she dashes to you and hugs your leg. she then quickly looks at satoru, tugging on his pants, “daddy!” she points at her cheek, “kiss, please!”
he swiftly picks her up and starts peppering her face with kisses and you watch with a warm smile. after he is done with his ambush, he sets her down with another hug. she looks a lot more confident and is willing to go on and try again by herself.
satoru is about to declare his mission successful, but someone rudely interrupts his victory dance.
a boy shyly makes his way towards d/n, who is right beside satoru. the boy looks at the ground, a pink hue coating his cheeks. he starts to murmur softly, “um, h—hi; I am—“
satoru crouches on the ground and stares at the boy. the kid is clutching a freaking rose. your husband’s dad instincts go off and he turns the boy around and lightly pushes him away, “go play with your friends, buddy.”
the boy turns back to satoru, but, this time, he is frowning at the man, “I wanna give d/n a flower!”
“well, I am here to do that, so you can go away,” satoru stands up proudly, “and! I give her flowers, not just one!”
the boy’s frown deepens and he turns to his friends and whistles for them to come over. quickly, a gang of 6 year old boys are at satoru’s feet. the boy points at satoru, “this man won’t let me give d/n a flower…attack!”
and because your husband’s petty like that, he keeps his infinity on and doesn’t flinch in the slightest. the kids keep trying to punch and kick him, but he doesn’t falter. he grins smugly at you, and you merely roll your eyes with a smile.
meanwhile, d/n already went to continue her class like nothing is happening.
you have no idea how the parents or ballet teacher are letting these kids ‘gang up’ on your husband, but you guess that everyone wants some entertainment every once in a while. plus, most of the kids got tired and ditched the ambush anyway.
now, no one is left but the flower boy.
the poor kid is panting and struggling as he looks up at the smug man. satoru smiles at you, turning off his infinity, “see, babe? told ya nothing can—“
the little boy has kicked your husband’s shin, harshly too. he huffs, holding back tears, “you’re a meanie!” he runs away to his mom, leaving satoru to hold his leg in pain.
you frown sympathetically at the boy, “satoru, you made him cry.”
“well, you’re going to make me cry with how little you care about how I am in pain right now!”
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
4K notes · View notes
asahicore · 1 year
Text
cherry pits - psh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?
(Spoiler: wrong.)
genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl
word count. 12.9k
a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!
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You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.
Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.
One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.
That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 
Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.
Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.
You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.
The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.
A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.
Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.
As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.
You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 
You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.
You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.
“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”
“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”
“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 
The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.
“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.
You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”
You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.
That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.
Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.
You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 
Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.
“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.
“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.
“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 
“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”
He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 
“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.
A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 
“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.
“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.
He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”
“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.
“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.
“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.
“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.
“Sunghoon?”
“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.
“Just water is fine.”
A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.
“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”
“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).
“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”
“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.
“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”
“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”
“So you're a student?”
“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”
You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 
You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?
You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.
“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.
“She’s turning eight this summer.”
“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”
“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”
“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 
He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”
You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”
“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”
“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.
He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.
“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”
He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”
“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.
Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.
“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.
“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 
On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 
Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 
“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.
“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”
“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.
“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.
“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”
“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.
“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 
“C’mon, mom!”
“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”
“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.
“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”
Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.
He does live right by, after all.
That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.
“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”
You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.
“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”
“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”
You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 
One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.
Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.
Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 
Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.
You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.
“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 
“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.
You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 
He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”
“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”
A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”
And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.
“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.
And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 
Wrong. It’s unbearable.
Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.
At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.
Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-
Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 
You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.
“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”
“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”
“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”
“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.
He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.
Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”
You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”
“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.
“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.
Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.
You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 
You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 
He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.
Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 
He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 
His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.
You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 
A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.
“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.
“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.
“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.
“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 
Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”
“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.
“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.
Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 
A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 
“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 
Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.
This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 
It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.
The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.
At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.
The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.
When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.
Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.
You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.
He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi, Sunghoon.”
He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.
Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.
Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.
Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 
Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.
She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”
“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.
“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.
“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.
He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.
“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”
“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”
“No, that’s the thing-”
“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”
“No, just listen-”
“So let’s just forget about it, and-”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.
“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.
“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”
There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”
“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”
“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.
“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.
“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.
“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.
Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.
You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.
Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.
As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 
“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.
“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.
“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.
“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.
“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.
“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.
“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.
“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.
He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.
Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.
You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Really?”
“Really.”
After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.
You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”
“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.
You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.
You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”
You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.
“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.
“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.
“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.
“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”
He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”
“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.
He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.
“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”
The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.
“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 
You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.
Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.
His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.
“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.
“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.
“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.
His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.
You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.
He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.
“Was that too much?” 
“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.
“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.
“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.
“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.
You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.
You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.
“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.
“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.
“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”
“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.
“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.
“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”
“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.
“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 
“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.
There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?
The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.
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this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!
permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)
© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
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For the dad!tom x reader au, maybe one where Elsie is only a few months old, and reader has to go run some errands so Tom has to take care of Elsie alone for a few hours and when reader gets back home she either finds them asleep with Elsie curled up on his chest or just them playing and lots of giggles!
Running Errands
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A/n: first drabble I’m posting for this au!!!
Dad!Tom Blyth x reader au masterlist
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divider by @s-hyia
Brushing through your hair, you feel Tom’s arms lazily hang around your waist. “Are you sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone? Call me if anything happens-” “We’ll be fine darling,” Tom interrupts you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your shoulder as you look at him in the reflection of the mirror. 
You had errands to for the day so Tom was going to look after your three month old daughter by himself for the first time. This was the first time you were going to be away from Elsie since you gave birth to her. You had complete faith and trust in Tom as he was a dotting and loving father to Elsie.
"I know you will be," You let out a sigh, turning around to give him a hug as his hands rub your back. You look over his shoulder and notice Elsie was still fast asleep as you fed her about an hour or so ago.
You walk over to where Elsie slept, you moved her from the bassinet to your shared bed with Tom as he carefully lays back down, deciding to catch up on a few more minutes of sleep.
"Bye," You kiss Tom goodbye before lightly kissing Elsie's forehead. "Have fun sweetheart." Tom says as you give him one final look and leave the bedroom, walking out of the house.
~
It was around 6pm in the afternoon when you finished all the appointments and errands you had to run. On you way back home, you stopped at your favourite pizza shop down in Brooklyn that you and Tom always visited.
When you opened the front door, it was eerily quiet. You slip off your shoes at the front door and placed the pizza down on the kitchen counter. "Tom!" You called out as you wander around the house.
Checking in his study, the living room, and your bedroom, neither him or Elsie were anywhere to be found. There was one final room that you hadn't checked yet which was Elsie's nursery.
You peek your head around the door as your lips turn up into a smile. Tom was sitting on your nursing chair, Elsie on his chest as they were both asleep, Tom's chest rising up and down at a steady pace.
You quietly walk around the room, picking up the toys that were on the ground and putting them away. Tom slowly woke up when your back was turned to him. "Y/n"
You hear Tom's hoarse voice quietly say as you turn around with a smile on your face. "Hi, my love," Tom presses light kisses on the top of Elsie's head before slowly getting up.
Following Tom back to your bedroom, he carefully places Elsie in her bassinet. The two of you watch in awe as she curls up and goes back to sleep. Your arm wraps around Tom's torso as his wraps around your waist, leaning down to press a kiss on the side of your face.
"How was your day?" He says when you quietly close the door behind you. "Very busy but I got everything done," You say in relief. You and Tom spent the rest of night eating Pizza, drinking wine, and watching movies.
taglist:
@nilletellsstories @joonvrs @whorein4horan
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vivwritesfics · 14 days
Text
Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Twenty-Five - Future Mrs Ricciardo
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.6K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
warnings: light smut
Series Masterlist
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Daniel spent all of December and January ring shopping. It was just so difficult, trying to decide on the perfect one. He'd seen the dainty rings she wore on her finger. All of them were flat. None of them were the kind of ring with a rock.
Something flat. Daniel knew she would like something flat, something that didn't have any kind of diamond sticking out. But that made finding the perfect one so much harder.
First, Daniel wanted to ask her and Milo to move into his house. By February, he'd decided it was time, decided he wanted to pick up all of her things and move them to his house. He wanted to see her books on the shelves, her blankets on the sofa, her mug beside his in the cupboards.
Fast forward to Valentines day. Olivia was supposed to be at her mothers house, but Kerry-Ann had a date and begged Daniel to take her.
(She watched the entire interaction, watched the way Kerry-Ann stepped closer to Daniel. Her hand touched his chest and she pouted her lips, begging him to take Olivia while she went on her Valentines date. The fact that she thought she needed to beg showed she really didn't know Daniel at all.)
Olivia and Milo spent the night at Olivia's Grand Parent's house. They watched movies, ate dinner in front of the television and filled in their colouring books until they went to bed.
"I'm thinking dinner and a movie," said Daniel as he pulled her towards him, pulling her onto his lap.
She straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I think I like what you're thinking," she said and kissed him, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. "But I'm also happy with staying here and breaking the couch in."
Daniel couldn't help but frown. "The couch isn't new," he answered, and she bounced in his lap. His eyes widened. "Oh wow," he said. "Wow, yeah, I like that." His hands settled on her hips. "But I do still want to take you out for dinner."
When she pouted, Daniel kissed her and her pout disappeared. "Come on, my love," he said. "It's our first Valentines day together and I want to treat you."
She kissed him again. "Okay. But, instead of a movie, we can come back here and..."
"I love it." He stood up and gently put her on the floor. "Go and get dressed. I wasn't to get you back here as soon as possible." Daniel pointed her in the direction of the bedroom and smacked her ass, as if to get her going.
She got showered and dressed in as quick a time as she could. She dried and brushed her hair, styling it with pins, and did her makeup. If they were going for dinner, she was going to make sure she looked fucking perfect.
When Daniel walked into the bedroom to retrieve a his own clothes, he covered his eyes. "I'm not looking, I swear," he said as he dug through the closet.
He got changed in the living room, folding his clothes and leaving them on the couch. When he was ready, Daniel sat down and called his daughter.
When she walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, Daniel damn near dropped his phone. "Is that my momma?" Milo asked, his face appearing on the screen.
"Yeah, Milo, it is," he said as he strode over to her. He turned the camera around, showing Milo and Olivia just how gorgeous she looked. She did a twirl and took the phone from Daniel, saying hello to the kids as he stood behind her, hands on her hips.
"Well, we'll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?" She said to Milo and Olivia.
"Bye, guys!" Daniel called from behind her.
"Bye!" Milo and Olivia chorused, ending the call.
When Daniel turned her around, she slipped his phone into his pocket. She kissed the underside of his jaw as Daniel gripped her hips. "You know, now I kinda regret insisting that we go to dinner."
She stepped away from him, giving him an unimpressed look as she did so. "I did not get all pretty like this for nothing." She pressed a finger to his chest as she said it. "C'mon, Honey Badger. Take me to dinner."
Dinner was, well, fantastic. It was a small Italian place. Daniel hadn't given his real name when making the reservation, and they damn near shit their pants when he walked in.
They couldn't be more apologetic that they'd sat them in one of the worst seats in the house. But it was Valentines day and it was incredibly busy.
But the food was good, the service was good and the wine went to her head a little bit. Their table was lit by candles. Everything was perfect.
Daniel had his arm wrapped around her as they walked down the street. They didn't head back to the car immediately, instead walking under the stars. "Hang on," he said, stopping to tie his shoelaces.
But his shoelaces were tied already. And, suddenly, he had a little black box in his hand. "Y/N," Daniel called and she turned towards him. "I've got an important question."
Her hands covered her mouth as he pulled open the box. What kind of ring would a man like Daniel choose for her? Whatever it was, she'd wear it with pride.
But the box didn't have a ring inside. No, it had a key. "Will you move in with me?"
She couldn't stop herself from hitting his shoulder. "Asshole, I thought you were going to propose!"
Still, Daniel was on his knee, waiting for an answer. "Yes," she said, taking the key from the box. "Yes, I'll move in with you."
Daniel stood up and kissed her. "Let me take you home, Roomie," he said with a grin, taking her hand and leading her back to the car. "I just gotta know, will you smack me like that when I do propose?"
"Propose and find out," she said with a grin as Daniel pulled open the car door for her.
When the season started a month later, Daniel wanted to take her everywhere with him. He wanted her by his side as he walked through the paddock, wanted her watching him as he drove.
But she was still working and he went alone. But it was okay, it just meant that she'd be at home, watching the race with the kids.
The drivers that had met her, loved her. They asked Daniel about her whenever they got a moment. He loved talking about her. He loved talking about all of his little family and couldn't stop once he'd started.
Only Max knew he was going to propose. Only Max had seen the ring. Only Max knew how Daniel was going to do it. He just needed to give his friend a little reassurance.
It was back in Australia. Daniel had a weekend of no racing and he wanted to get away.
He booked a cabin for the two of them, took her away for just the weekend while Milo and Olivia stayed with his parents. Daniel didn't tell her. He didn't tell her until he was packing their bags (with no idea what to pack for her).
She walked in on him, shoving things into their bags. "Danny," she said softly, placing her hand on his shoulders. "What're you doing?"
He let out a sigh as he stood up. "I... am taking you away for the weekend."
Holy shit, he was going to propose.
Wordlessly, she began putting things into her bag. She grabbed things from her underwear drawer and put them in her bag without letting Daniel see what it was.
Once her bag was zipped up, she turned to him and threw her arms around his shoulders. "Love you," she said as she kissed him.
Daniel could hardly keep himself from telling her as he drove them up to the cabin. He kept his hand on her thigh as he parked up (doing that thing where he drove with one hand, palm against the steering wheel).
Their bags weren't heavy, but Daniel insisted on carrying both of them. The cabin was nice and secluded, the next one a few miles doing the road.
"Have you ever fucked on a porch?" He grinned as he carried the bags into the cabin, flexing like crazy.
They had sex on the porch. They had sex on the rug, sex by the fire. It was damn near impossible to separate them.
Daniel was constantly looking for the right moment to propose. He wanted to, he so badly wanted to. But it wasn't the right moment.
The right moment came on Sunday. They'd spent the night unable to separate, his cock moving through her folds, her body moving on top of his.
In the morning light, with her body wrapped in the white sheets, hair covering the pillow, Daniel found his moment. He wrapped his arms around her mid section and pulled her closer. "Marry me," he said and kissed her bare shoulder.
"Sure," she muttered, fingers tracing his tattoo.
"No, I'm being serious," he said, turning her body to face him. "Marry me."
She grinned and leaned in to kiss him. "Yes, Daniel Ricciardo, I'll marry you."
Suddenly Daniel was out of the bed. He ran to his bag, pulled the ring from its box and slipped it onto her finger. "Future Mrs Ricciardo," he whispered and kissed her, pulling her body against his.
(When they picked up the kids later that evening, Daniel introduced Y/N to his parents as his ex girlfriend. Nobody was impressed by that.)
FIN
TAGLIST (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minseok-smaus @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @lightdragonrayne @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow
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stvharrngton · 4 months
Note
hii! i don’t really request things but i was thinking about something with steve and i had to share it
dilf steve.
imagine if he’s dropping off your kid at daycare or something and he keeps getting hit on by other moms, and gets invited to a party and obviously he brings us along
and he keeps getting hit on at the party and we’re jealous the whole time and very touchy with steve 🤭
i love this idea i just hope i did it justice 😭
pairing: dad!steve x mom!reader
word count: 1.7k
warnings: none really, some flirty behaviour, kissing
requests are open!
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“Dad?”
“Yes, baby?” Steve asked, eyes darting to the rear view mirror to get a glance of his daughter strapped safely into her car seat in the back.
“Where’s Mommy?” your inquisitive and curious baby girl, Ivy, asked. Her tiny hands fiddling with the straps of her car seat.
“Mom works early, remember, bug? So Dad takes you to daycare.” Steve said with a chuckle as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the daycare.
After setting the car in park and unstrapping your daughter from her seat, he scooped her up in his arms, spinning her round before settling her on his hip. She giggled wildly and it was music to Steve’s ears every single time.
“You all set for school, baby?” Steve asked, hiking up her backpack that was slung over his shoulder. He was about to set her down so she could run off and play before he was approached by one of the other moms.
“Oh, Mr. Harrington!” Ms. Burkley, Phoebe’s Mom chimed sweetly, waving her manicured hand around frantically to catch his attention.
Steve pursed his lips together in a polite smile, thinking of nothing worse than engaging in this conversation right now. Ms. Burkley was part of a group of Moms at the daycare that took a particular shine to Steve. Flirted with him at every opportunity they got, despite the ring that so obviously sat on his finger.
“Oh, hey, Ms. Burkley.” Steve replied, nevertheless, offering a wave and a polite smile, your daughter still clutching at his side.
“Please, it’s Amanda, how many times have I told you!” she joked, playfully slapping him on the shoulder. Too many times, Steve thought as his eyes glanced to where the woman’s hand had just been.
It was almost as if they sniffed him out one by one. As soon as one of them had seen him arrive at daycare, the rest of them sensed he had arrived. One by one the group became larger, the Moms surrounding Steve, each and every one shamelessly flirting with the man.
One of the older ones piped up, Steve thought her name was Karen or Kelly maybe, “Oh, Steve,” she chirped, “we’re having a get together at my house on Friday. You should come! We’d all love to see you there but leave the little one with a sitter.”
Steve raised an eyebrow in suspicion, his head turning to glance at your daughter who was babbling to herself and something or other. Karen, or Kelly, handed Steve a small piece of paper which he assumed was some sort of invitation with her street address on it.
“Right, thanks,” Steve murmured, shoving the card in his jacket pocket, “well, I better get going, ladies. Best get Ivy into her teacher. Say bye, honey.” Steve urged her but she wouldn’t budge, still clinging onto Steve’s side for dear life.
The day soon rolled to a close and you and Steve were getting ready for bed. Steve heard you click the light off in your en-suite, rubbing the last of your moisturiser into your skin, Steve already settled in your soft bed.
“Hey, honey?” he called out to you, his thumb rubbing over the piece of paper he was given earlier, “You’ll never guess what happened to me today.”
You appeared through the threshold as you made your way to your side of the bed, “What’s that, babe?”
“I got invited to a party,” he smirked as he handed you the makeshift invitation.
“Did you go to pick up girls whilst Ivy was in school?” you teased, your eyes scanning over the name and address on the paper, written in pink cursive.
“Oh, come on, baby,” he cooed, scooting up closer to you, “you know there’s no one else for me.”
You couldn’t help but giggle as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his lips smattering kisses over any skin he could find. His fingertips digging into the skin beneath your pyjamas. You whisper-shouted for him to stop between your fit of laughter, careful not to wake your sleeping daughter.
“Is this from one of those Moms at the daycare?” you asked, reading the swirly pink writing on the paper once more. Steve nodded.
Steve had told you previously about the flirty Moms at Ivy’s daycare, how they’d oggle him up and down, laugh at anything he said, even if it wasn’t funny. You laughed it off, but this seemed a little odd. It caught you off guard.
“Are you gonna go?” you asked, voice quiet as you set the invite on the side table next to your bed. 
“We’re gonna go,” Steve insisted, “so I can show off my pretty wife.”
You were by no way insecure in your relationship, in your marriage, with Steve. You knew he worshipped the ground you walked on, you knew he didn’t have eyes for anyone else. But you couldn’t lie, the thought of rubbing their faces in it did sound kind of fun.
Friday soon rolled around, you dropped Ivy off at Robin’s and made your way to the address that was written on the paper. You stood side by side with your arms linked as you rang the doorbell, Steve with a six pack in hand and you with a plate of muffins you’d baked.
Kelly or Karen answered the door, a huge grin on her face when she saw Steve. Her gaze panned to you and the smile softened, you could see the confusion behind her eyes that he didn’t come alone.
“Steve!” she chirped all shrill like, “I’m so glad you made it.” She reached a hand out to clutch at his bicep before taking the six pack from his arm. “And who’s this?” she asked, her gaze casting towards you once more, her perfectly painted red lips pursing together.
Steve began to speak before you interjected, extending your hand for her to shake, “Oh, I’m Steve’s wife.” You answered matter-of-factly, a smug smile on your face.
The party seemed to be in full swing, as boring as it may be. Steve kept getting carted off, dragged from pillar to post, by someone different each time it seemed. To look at a classic car stored away in the garage, or old basketball trophies that Steve didn’t really care about. So you nursed the same glass of wine you’d had for the past hour, accompanied by one of the other Moms from the daycare you actually knew well.
You were mid conversation, laughing casually at something someone said when you caught a glance of Steve to your side in the kitchen. The lady whose house this was, you still didn’t know her name and frankly, you didn’t care to either, was leaning over the kitchen island in her low cut dress with everything on show. They were talking about something, you had no idea what, but she had a look in her eye and kept twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. You all but lost it when she moved from around the counter, her hand on Steve’s bicep once more but her other on his chest this time.
“Excuse me.” You mumbled, smiling to your company politely. You watched as you got closer, how Steve tried to back up step by step, to shirk himself away from her touch, his shoulders tense. He soon faltered when he felt your hand smooth across his back, your fingers travelling downwards until your hand was snuggly in the back pocket of his Levi’s.
“Oh, hey, honey!” Steve exclaimed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He slung his arm over your shoulder, beer bottle in hand, pulling you closer.
“Hey, handsome,” you purred, your fingers reaching up to his chin, tickling the light scruff that resided there before they settled on his cheek, pulling him in for a slightly over the top kiss. Steve smirked against your lips, knowing exactly what you were doing. You licked your lips when you pulled away, a glint in your eye, “oh, sorry,” you chuckled, “am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all,” Steve hummed. You both cast your eyes to the poor disgruntled woman standing on the other side of Steve, a scowl on her face as she sulked in her pretty red dress. She stormed off and you both sniggered in her wake.
“Can we go outside? I need some air.” You entwined your fingers with Steve’s larger ones, pulling him outside through the already open patio doors. 
The spring air was cool on your skin, Steve noticing the chill that shivered through you, immediately shedding his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. “You okay?” Steve murmured, fingers stroking at your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind your ear.
“Peachy,” you hummed. Big doe eyes blinking up at your husband before you peered back inside of the house, catching a glimpse of the famous group of flirty Moms.
“You’re not– you’re not jealous, are you?” Steve posed, holding your face in his large hands so softly, chuckling in disbelief. “Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you know you have nothing to be jealous about, I’m yours.”
“I know,” you shrugged, hooking your arms around Steve’s neck as his moved to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, “but I still don’t like it.” 
A pretty little pout formed on your lips, your eyes still wandering inside of the house to see if they were still watching. Steve turned to where your gaze was focused, noticing the other ladies watching your every move, rolling their eyes in tandem. Steve sighed, his eyes falling back on you.
“C’mere,” he whispered, pulling you into him. Steve brushed his lips against yours softly, your lips fitting together perfectly. You melted into the kiss, momentarily forgetting where you were, stood in some stranger’s backyard, making out with your husband. Steve licked into you all pretty, sighing into your lips, “Y’know, Robin still has Ivy for a couple hours… Wanna get outta here?”
You felt the heat creep up on your cheeks at his suggestion, pondering it over in your mind. “Actually, can we stay for a little longer?” you asked, your finger drawing shapes across his firm chest, “Making them jealous is kinda fun. You could have me sit on your lap in front of them all whilst I laugh hysterically at all your bad jokes, Stevie.”
Steve feigned offence, his eyebrows raised in shock as his hair shook with the sudden takeback. “You’re saying you don’t really find my jokes funny? Well, honey, I’m offended.” “Oh, shut up, Harrington.” you giggled, swatting at his chest, “Let’s go back inside, then you can take me home.”
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fawnpires · 1 year
Text
AMORAL SILHOUETTES. — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.
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༉‧₊˚ ┊ PART 2.
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: infatuations with older men were morally wrong, but never applying to him.
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: afab!reader, manhandling, breeding kink, pet-names, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), size difference, creampies, reader is in her 20's, ghost is a single dad, touch-starved, domesticity, squirting.
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You've seen him around the neighborhood before — towering in height, bulging biceps, and a skull balaclava sheltering the structure of whatever laid under, the structure of his concealed face. It was a known fact that you bear an attraction to him, but you just couldn't own up to it, feeling a little too shamed to be conscious about a little school-girl crush on a man much older than you. A man who was a hard-working, ex-military, single father who paid no attention to girls in the same line that you found yourself in — but was it hard not to steal a view glances whenever he was seen around the neighborhood whether it was for a few minutes or seconds despite his lack of ability to communicate with others, though it was obvious he chose not to be around others for a good waste of his time excluding his children.
So when he came strolling up the slope of your driveway and a gloved fist beating at your front door, you had thought you were in another one of your trances — molded daydreams of him; minor fantasies of Simon Riley in that same balaclava giving you all of his affection, kissing you, treating you as if you were his pretty wife — a life that you could never make a single complaint about.
Ghost — his more preferred name used on other's tongues — stands eerily underneath the giving-out light of your porch, with nothing but a set of dusky eyes and a whole lot of muscle beneath the puny fabric of a black v-neck. You, stand on the opposite side of the door and impassively stare, nonetheless avoiding the eye contact when he gapes at you for longer than intended.
"I'm assuming you're the daughter." he said, reserved, dull.
"Sure am, did you need something?"
He clears his throat. "Well, this might be a strange thing to ask — and a bit sudden," He brought his hands to tuck in his pockets. "But would you mind looking after my kids for a while? I'll pay you for every hour, just a couple days of the week."
His offer was the last thing on the brink of your mind when he happened to show up, asking you for a favor — being in his house, where he lived, with his presence ghosting around. It sounded creepy. A bit stalker-ish to think of it like that — but you played it off as an innocent favor he asks of his neighbor, just a few hours of your day taken off to go kid-watching for the man who you admired the most.
"A couple days of the week?" You repeat his words back to him.
"I'm certain."
"I mean, sure, I'll take the offer, but when do you want me to start?"
"Tomorrow. Tomorrow evening is fine, around six."
You bit your lip. "Got it. Have a good-night, Mr. Riley."
"Knew I could rely on you, thanks, doll."
A single wave was managed. No verbal good-bye, just a wave from the hand that was freed from the confines of his pocket — and a pet-name taken straight to the pinpoint of your heart. You watch as he turns his back and finds himself across the street to where he coincidentally had lived — watching as he outstretched his arms and embraced a young girl with no emotion that had intentionally been shown to the public. Doll. It was unknown if his label for you was something he did purposely or had just slipped from his masked lips.
Either way, it made you feel like cherished like never before, his doll.
The day in which Ghost's favor was asked of you passed by quickly into the day the favor was actually supposed to be performed, straight at six, right in the center of where the sky was going through modifications of warmth to a bitter cold. Much like him with more anxiousness residing in your chest, you were across the street and bound to his porch, a dress shrouding your figure up to the bottoms of your thighs. Dressing and dolling yourself up made you look like you were going more on a night-out rather than a baby-sitting shift. Unintentional was the word for it. Unintentional to be all formal when in the same proximity. You half-recover from your birthing nervousness and thump on the door gently.
"Mr. Riley, it's me." you blatantly said, the door still closed.
With your words blurted out the door seemed to open on command — aggressively, as if it were going to be discharged from the hinges. Rather than a giant of a man in the doorframe there stood a girl half the size of it, lightly-shaded blonde hair up in pigtails with a cherubic face, staring right up at you as she titled her head. Honestly, you weren't good with children, but kindness was fundamental as of that. You give her a forced smile pressed up into the corners of your mouth as if held at gunpoint, whispering a small greeting and a wave. How maternal of you.
From further into the house came footsteps, blaring footsteps, and the little girl was no longer stood two feet on the surface of the ground but lifted into her father's arms with a brief giggle. You weren't going to stand here and be blamed a liar if that didn't advance an adoration for him in the moment.
"Thank you so much for coming and apologies, it's my fault for letting you in late," he said. "Make yourself at home."
"Don't worry about it." you reassure.
Ghost's house was clean and neutral, but gave off a decent interior of a past lieutenant's home well. There were a few toys littered around, a locked exhibition cabinet of ex-military trinkets, piled-up envelopes, and one other silhouette of a little girl bearing similarities to the one in his arms. Nothing in his house gave off a girlish ambience, besides two daughters, but it was masculine; like an adequate, suburban variety of a old-fashioned farmhouse with rifles and deer heads on display replaced with military collections.
There was a microscopic chance of danger with a bunch of firearms and artillery gear laying around but as someone as wise as himself, of course he kept a lock on it. Chain, even, if he wanted to get that far into territory.
"Bedtime's at eight, food is already ordered, and you have the entire house to yourself past the eight-o-clock mark." Ghost said. He provided you with a spare key, his bared fingers brushing against yours as he placed it in the middle of your hand. "So you have plenty of time to, you know, relax."
"When will you be home?"
"Around ten, but wait up on me — I'll give your pay up before you leave."
"So I stay until ten?"
"Sure do."
"You can trust me, for sure."
"I know I do." he said.
His eyes trail over you for a minute longer before bending his knees and and allowing his daughter to be freed from his grasp, legs straightening up again as he pat your shoulder. "Thanks, kid, I'll see you later."
All of these nicknames were blurted from his mouth like nothing — first it was doll, now kid, and it just left you anticipated for what he would grant you next with. That though stuck to your mind like a nail screwed by a hammer, watching as he took his jacket and folded it in his arms, swearing that he gave you one last glance before he unlatched the door and shut it behind him — leaving you to bathe in the first touch he acted on you, his effortless terms of endearment, and the two resembling daughters he relied to be cared of.
Spiraling. You had to be spiraling.
Your hours spent with the children were calm. They had warmed up to you pretty fast and had dragged you nearly to every spot of their home. Up the stairs where their shared bedroom stood at the hall, a couple of bathrooms downstairs, a storage closet, the showcase of weaponry, and even Ghost's bedroom. They declared his room was some kind of secretive hideout, only being in there a limited amount of times, but urging you to take them in there along you. It was going to be difficult to get out of the pressuring so, having your own fun, you let them explore around his room — like you were a cool older sister, or mother, to them.
The title "Mother" exclaimed from one of the girls, ultimately leading into them repeatedly a series of them calling you variations of mom, mommy, mother, throughout the night instead of the name you had given them to call you. You weren't extremely irritated with it, you actually found it slightly adorable considering that they didn't even have a mother and latched onto you as some sort of female parent never obtained, nonetheless it was practically harmless and brought no harm down on you.
Baking cookies, some sort of role-playing they convinced you to star in, doing their hair in all sorts of girly ribbons and accessories almost made you feel like you were a little girl again — it had drained them out pretty easily but gave them a sense of girlhood, giving no offense to Ghost. A vision crossed your mind, eventually spearing your mind, that you were the real mother to these girls. A female figure to look up to and issue them a full family with a packed set of two parents. It had been drilled to you the other half of the the night, you kept a close eye on them as they had gotten ready for bed and prepared themselves under the covers.
With a deportation of reading a shabby bedtime story and a few ruffles to both of their heads, you finally had his home to yourself. Anything you wanted to do was accessible, easy-to-do, but with no danger of waking up the girls. Exhaustion was present, though, with all of your lone ideas to-do in mind you ended up on the couch. Your head tilted in one palm as you legs crossed under the skirt of your dress, the illuminations of late-night talk shows on television glowing your face in shades of dissimilar hues.
Staying up and waiting for Ghost to walk right through the front door was starting to become a challenge. Blaming his daughters for putting you in a state of pure fatigue was never the right thing to do, although it was easy to admit. Your eyelids were heavy with one more glance at the clock, which read a quarter to nine, meaning that this night could come to its finale and you could see that face of his — physically, up-close, like you did three hours ago.
As you were right at your breaking point into a slumber the doorknob trembling and echoing into the room where you were buzzed you awake. Stretching over the arm of the sofa and sloping your head to where the door was visible, knob had stopped with the commotion, the door silently opening a crack before blew open. To your relief and satisfaction it's the man who've you longed for the entire day, like a depressed stay-at-home housewife. His jacket is thrown on a nearby table as he could only stare at your laid figure over the couch, eyes squinting.
"Welcome home."
"Appreciate it. Are the girls upstairs?" Ghost asked with a finger pointing to the floor above.
"All knocked out."
"Jesus, what did all of you do?"
"Just a little girl-fun, that's all, baking — stuff like that." you said with a no-teeth grin.
"I could only thank you again for that," he sighs and pulls out a couple dollar bills stuffed in the jean of his pocket. "You don't have any idea how hard it is to get those two asleep."
"Really? They're like little angels, they loved me."
"I bet they did," he said while setting your pay on the coffee table. "Here, an entire hundred stack."
"Hundred?"
"You deserve it, do you not?"
"I'm only a part-time babysitter, Mr. Riley, not a full time worker."
"Yes, but you're a good girl, are you not? Going through all the trouble to make time for me and my kids — so I can assure you this is my pay for you, think of it as a prize."
"God, well, thank you." you said, processing his terms of good girl, heat rising to your face. "You really love those girls, don't you?"
"They're my pride and soul." he said while taking a seat next to your half-laid body, dipping the cushion of the couch. "I only want the best for them, that's why I chose you to look after them."
"Me, why?"
"It's difficult to explain, and a bit strange but — you've always reminded me of my past wife, kind and loved her kids, soft spot even for the people she didn't really know."
"I didn't know I could resemble someone so much." you said, mouth going dry.
Ghost laughs. "Yeah, she was quite beautiful too, like you."
"Was that a compliment?"
"Why wouldn't it be? Hell, love, you've got the looks any man you could fall for.
His hand comes to gently rest on your thigh and you look up at him through droopy eyelids, this didn't feel real. This couldn't be real, right? It couldn't be proved as false when his calloused fingers started rubbing tender circles into your skin, eyes of his own half-lidded and crinkling around with the tar-like paint staining skin. You and him were playing a dangerous game, pent-up tension right in here in his living room, a man by all means older and more mature than you've ever been — it was so easy to give into him so fast.
"You like that, huh?" he keeps his voice low and continues the strokes on your thigh. "You ever been touched like this, dollface?"
"No, sir."
"Mm. I liked the way you called me sir, honey. Come here, sit-up."
You balance yourself on twitching elbows and Ghost moves in between your thighs, his body weight heavy compared to your smaller physique as he lifts the cloth-edge of his balaclava for you, revealing a light stubble peppering the anatomy of his face and somewhat coarse lips that pressed up against yours. Your hands hoist to caress his face, kneading into his sinking cheekbones with each move to intensify the kiss. His pink muscle of a tongue forces your lips open and laps at every crevice of your mouth — your arms linking around his head, his fingers once at your thighs now under your skirt and massaging in circular motions at your fabric-clothed cunt. Small whimpers of shame leak into the kiss, evolving into moans, his massaging enhancing with every finished motion.
Ecstasy ran through your veins, pulsing with adrenaline and contentment. Your legs are fragile, trembling, alongside your cunt flourishing a moistness in its fiber confinement. The man of your daydreams no longer is just a fragment of your delusional head, but right where you've longed for him to be, taking and compelling you to be obedient for him. Only him, always him.
The ministrations on your veiled cunt withdraws and drags a moan from the depths of your throat. One of his hands instead crawl underneath your pushed-together legs and the other supports your back. You dive into his lips with a hunger once more and he manhandles you so delicately despite the tough behavior, you're drunk on the taste of Ghost as he works through the house up the stairs, through the hallway, and brings you into his room where you once stood earlier — the click of the lock confirms your status, you're safe as long as you're with him.
His hands pressing into the flesh of your body is loosened up as he lays you gently on the mattress as if you were created of porcelain — which did have some sense in it bearing in mind that you, essentially, were his doll of a girl by his own words. Defines of his eyes stream your body up and down, towering over you in height, yourself much more reduced and small. Fingers assist you with stripping your dress, leaving you in an arrangement of panties and bra complimenting every curve and bow of your figure. He curses mutely under his breath, huge palms cupping and kneading at your breasts, his knees resting on the bed.
Your whimpers are more pristine and clear to his naked ear. Looking through your languid-like eyes, a bulge is positioned right at his jeans, and his shirt had been ripped off of him — possibly during the time where your eyes had been closed to immerse in his touch.
"Such pretty tits, love." He said with a grunt. A deep guttural grunt.
"They're all for you, mister, always have been."
"Not mister, not even Ghost — Simon to you, and it's going to be Simon when I'm pounding into this tight little cunt of yours."
His words add on to the wet arousal staining your panties, swearing a second heartbeat could be felt, a throbbing and senseless feeling.
"You like this pair?" Ghost asks, nudging at your panties.
"Not important." you reply through short, cut breaths.
With your consent, he takes both of his hands, ripping the fabric in half. A gasp delivers from your open mouth — both at the cold air's impact on your exposed entrance and the material ripping apart. He has a look in his eyes that resembles a feral animal, one that is undomesticated and always in a repetitive state of hunger. Ghost backs you up to lay against his pillows to allow more space for him to climb on the mattress with you. He wastes no time with leaning himself down and hooking your bare legs in a hold around both arms, resting right at his broad shoulders. Those same eyes of hunger peer up at you with the bottom half still exposed from the bruising make-out session.
You feel a mushy lick bumping at your clit, causing your back to arch to the ceiling with a high-pitched moan, who knew such a motion could make you so submissive in a short span of time. The palm of your hand is instantly cupped around your mouth like a guard as Ghost continued his ministrations on your lips — no longer kitten licks but long, dragged out ones that had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull and struggling to muffle such sexual noises deprived from your mouth for the sake of his daughters fast-asleep down the hall.
"You taste like heaven," he grunts. "You're such an angel, making those sweet noises all for a guy like me."
"Only you, fuck, you feel so good." you whined, fisting the bedsheets at your sides.
"That's my girl."
The slant of his nose stimulates your clit while he proceeds with his longer, stroking tongue advances reaching deep inside your cunt. Your surroundings are heated with an addition of pure wetness, sweat, and mess clogging your brain up. His tongue provides you with a pleasure even your own fingers couldn't drive out of you, drool pools at a corner of your mouth while his grip on your legs hardens, strokes of his tongue becoming more aggressive — driving you quicker over an edge, your stomach in knots and oversensitivity. Your vision starts to blur out once you realize you can't control the sounds that he forces out of you, his tongue again and again savoring you as if you were his last meal on death row — he was desperate and willing to lap up your juices staining his face and your inner-thighs, Ghost was just as deprived as you were for him.
A thick sensation adjoins his tongue and nose, overwhelming sparks of emotion possessing you. The palm around your mouth is useless at this point, it lays flat and abandoned as a fist clutching at the sheets, moans chased out humiliatingly. You needed to come, come for him, for your own sake — but that was hard to think about when Ghost was mouth-fucking and finger-fucking you at the same exact time, much like some pornographic type video. A cliche one.
You were squeezing around whatever he stuck in you next — his tongue, his fingers, his tongue, or an combination, you were with no doubt tight and squeezed around any of his body parts.
"Fuck, you gonna come, sweetheart?" he asked, muffled with your clit puckered between his lips. "It's okay, come for me, just like that."
"Baby! Oh my go-"
Your back arches to an impossibly high rate when the knot in your stomach unties itself willingly, a wave of arousal gushing in streams on his face. Audible whines fall from your lips as you fall back right in contact with the plush of the bed. Sweat and the scent of sex reeks around you and Ghost, your chest rising with each hefty breath that is fished from your lungs. Your blurred vision is somewhat returned to its original shape, enough to make out Ghost — with his bare chest and your arousal at his face, tongue used to make said arousal transpire licking around at it, and his inked forearm. He was sticky and sweaty, a little tired, but obtained the right amount of stamina to be right inside you, just like he had wanted.
"Simon." you heaved out below, his fingers pressing into your hips. "Fuck me, please. I need you so bad, needed you ever since you've first moved here."
Ghost releases a low grunt and within a few seconds, he's messing with his belt — shakily unbuckling it and shrugging his pants to the floor. His boxers are no place of concealment, the prominent outline of his bulge protruding beyond the fabric, the sight provoking you to press your thighs together and rev-up that weakness present in your knees. He tugs at the waistband and slowly, painfully, lowers the border bordering item down — his cock almost immediately coming to press against his lower abs, at his lower stomach, really giving you the idea of how big he was. His balaclava is fully suited back on his face as the he leans down to give a final stream of soft kisses at your stomach through the mask, a hand pumping from the base of his cock to the tip.
"You want this, angel?" he groans with his pumps before he releases himself from his hand, positioning the tip of his cock right at the entrance of your swollen cunt as he provided a pre-fuck with only his tip. "Want my cock deep inside your pussy, pounding you into the mattress?"
"Oh god, I do, want you to fuck me as if I'm your wife, your pretty little housewife."
With one unforeseen jolt of his hips, he slams into you, your tight walls fondling him as if you were made for him. Your arms link around his torso as he moves his hips slowly, nails etching into the muscles of his back.
"Fucking hell, I can feel you squeezin' around me, love," he pants out, thrusts developing into a more faster pace. "This pussy is so good to me..."
"You're so fucking big, fuck."
Ghost jackhammers his cock into you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, your legs squeezing around his waist. Your mouth widens with each moan and whimper he could drain you of — he pounds into you, fucking you like an animal rabid, sinking fully inside with each thrust of his hips. There's a composure and steady rhythm he keeps, allowing him to punctuate each of his plunges with his cock kissing at your cervix, his hand moving down to your clit. His thumb rolls over the bud and correlates it with how he fucks you, your nails digging at the skin of his back.
"Want to put a baby in you," he groans as his hips rock faster, nearly knocking the breath out of you, his fingers ghosting over the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach. "We'll have a perfect lil' family together, such a pretty little mother to my kids. You would let me do that, yeah?"
He's pistoning his hips in-and-out of you, your cunt naturally squeezing around him as your whines grew in pitch. His words held so much meaning — an entire family with him? Spending a lifetime with the older man you've adored from across the street? It had sounded more like paradise, anything that you've ever wished for in life. He knew he loved you so much, and you knew you loved him as equally, so much that he could imagine your cunt all full of his seed — stomach swelling with his child.
You nod as an agreement and he grunts, thrilled at the idea of you and him birthing something so intimate with each other. A family, your family, his family. It was a scheme he never thought he would be overly-obsessing, despite his disagreement with it during his time serving the army. But he dropped it, as long as he had you, and a devoted life.
"Want that so bad-" you squeal out, the sensation of a knot in your stomach on its last support heels, each of his drilling thrusts pulling you nearly to a climax. "Wanna have your baby, yours forever." Your phrase comes out slurred as the knot is broken of the last support it was on, sending you back into another session of short paradise.
"You're so beautiful. Going to breed this pussy with all my cum, honey." He sinks into you more erratic as he feels the walls of your cunt grasp abnormally tightly around him, his head going bare and distorted, the only initial thought in-tact was to keep the flow of thrusts he had fabricated — though, said flow was quickly dismembering.
His fingers of projecting veins running up his knuckles that were conveniently gripping your hips with such a pressure molded your skin into his contact easily. Your moans coming from a thrown back head against his cologne-scented pillows merged with Ghost's persistent heavier grunts — it's almost like a choir, using two valid voices, and delivering some sort of out-of-tune melody but with a hint of great profound beauty behind it.
The sensitive nipples of your breasts rub up right against his sweat-sheen chest in company with the dog tags strewn around his neck swaying in your face. He's leaning into you and has you caged in with no escape, his flow of thrusts gone, both of you desperate for a release. His muted breathing is irregular and heavy, your legs trembling and weak encircling his waist. His name is on your tongue and it leaks into the air, chanting it like your life was depending on it at the moment — depending on him. The lewd squelching of the head of his cock kissing your cervix, his noises combined with yours, the slapping of skin-on-skin — all of it was such an erotic sight to the human eye.
His head is back resting in the expanse between your head and shoulder, balaclava raised to expose the area of his lips once again, the warmth of those lips stamping sloppy, wet kisses into your neck; you squeal out as you're driven to your breaking point, a rush of arousal pressuring from your cunt and spraying onto his lower abs while he douses his cum deep into your swollen cunt. His own high-point doesn't stop him from sneaking a few more smaller thrusts for a bit, assuring all of his seed stays remains inside you.
"Fuck," he mutters, voice breaking off, his knuckles are ghosting a shade paler than white while he keeps purchase on both sides of your hips. He's stuttering over breaths as he tries to catch up with them, eyes falling to your immobile self. Your mouth is vaguely unfastened with breaths taken, eyes nearly closed, body slightly shuddering with the collisions of his cock still felt up inside of you — leaving your filled cunt fluttering around nothing.
"Too rough on you, sweetheart?" He asks, raspy.
"I think I'm okay, besides —you made my night even better."
He chuckles, a rare vision coming from a man like himself. "I'm happy to assist with that."
"Also," you imposed a dopey grin on your lips. "You should ask me for favors more often."
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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Daddy Issues
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older rockstar eddie x band mates daughter fem!reader
summary: you finally get to see corroded coffin live, and you really want to fuck the lead singer/guitarist, the only thing is he’s your dads best friend and your dad is the bassist.
⚠️warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, pictures are purely for aesthetic purposes, mentions of alcoholism, little mention of eddies past drug abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, age gap (reader is 21, eddie is in his 50s), dom eddie, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, spit play, cream pie, daddy kink, eddie and reader are bi.
A/N: another one shot, I actually enjoy writing these. Let me know what you think, I’m not sure whether I like this or not but, fuck it! It was fun to write.
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It’s been four years since your dad became the bassist for corroded coffin, when he got the call after his audition you were already packing your things up for college—being accepted into Perdue university majoring in psychology.
You and your dad had a rocky relationship almost all of your life. He was an alcoholic and chronic womanizer, he cheated on your mom and every other woman that gave him the time of day—of course you loved him, but there were just too many things said and done that could never be taken back. He lived the rockstar lifestyle in every sense of the word for as long as you could remember, even being kicked out of bands for his rowdy behavior—so it was an utter miracle when he finally decided to go to rehab and get help, that was two years before he started touring with corroded coffin— now he’s completely changed his life around, which you couldn’t be more happy about. Since, he’s gotten extremely close to his band mate Eddie who is the guitarist and lead singer —they’ve apparently become best friends, Eddie even helping your dad with his sobriety since he had a drug problem years back, almost acting as his sponsor and trying to sway him from going back to that life as often as he could. You’ve never been able to meet any of the guys but you’ve watched some of their interviews during long nights of studying and have said hi through FaceTime calls, on occasion—you might have also developed a mini crush on the guitarist, but you’d never admit that.
After finally graduating college and returning home, you’ve been staying with your dad and his new wife Catherine—until you can fully get on your feet. Things have been great, but trying to hook up with men and women in your fathers house is just weird, even though he allows you your privacy and tries not to ask questions. In college you weren’t really the hook up type—you focused more on your studies, you may or may not have been fucking your English professor on the side, but we’re not gonna get into that.
It’s a lovely Friday afternoon when you get a FaceTime call from your dad, he’s been out of town for a couple weeks touring surrounding cities, and he has a show tomorrow night in town.
“Hello?” You say raising the phone to your face
“Hey, angel” your dad says—you can hear loud instruments in the background so they must be doing sound check
“Hey, dad what’s up?” You say with a sweet smile
“Just missed you kiddo, wanted to call and check in” he says warmly
“Miss you too, how’s tour?” You question
“Tours good, as good as it can be, now.” he says with a chuckle
You giggle back, knowing exactly what he means.
“Hey, listen angel, would you want to come to our show tomorrow night? Meet the guys and hangout backstage?” He questions with hopeful eyes
“Yeah, of course I’d love to!” You answer back with a big smile
“Okay, cool. I’ll put your name down on the list, when you get here just give it to them and they’ll bring you backstage” he says with excitement
“Cool, can’t wait! I’ll see you tomorrow then, be safe dad” you say shooting him one last smile
“Bye angel, see you tomorrow” he says before hanging up
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As the day goes on and rolls into the next, you start getting ready for the show. You’re excited to see your dad—but you can’t lie to yourself, you’re really excited to see the sexy guitarist/lead singer, so of course you’re going to dress to impress— not that you have a chance, but a girl can dream
You have an hour before the show starts, you took forever to get ready perfecting your makeup and hair— you decide to wear your white corroded coffin shirt your dad sent you awhile back tucked into a plaid mini skirt, socks and your low platform doc martens. Finally you climb into your little Prius and head out to the show.
When you arrive it’s packed, the line is almost down the street, and there’s hints of weed smoke in the air. You walk up to the entrance door and give your name to the gentleman wearing a headset— as you give him your name, he says something into it and then ushers you off to head backstage.
You finally get backstage after pushing your way through a crowd— your dad spots you before you get the chance to look around, calling out to you with his hands cupped around his mouth, as you see him you smile and saunter over to him.
“Angel, I’m so happy you made it” he says as he fidgets around— he always gets nervous before a show no matter how many he’s played
He leans in and gives you a hug while kissing the top of your head— “of course I made it” you say as you both pull away
“I want to officially introduce you to the guys, let me find them first” he says
“It’s okay dad, just wait until after the show” you insist — “actually, where can I find a bathroom?” You ask
After your dad directs you to the nearest restroom you begin your quest but quickly get lost, you come across a couple red doors, as you’re walking down the hall one of them swings open and you come face to face with Eddie Munson, the man that has been haunting your dreams for 4 years, he walks out with a pretty blonde girl but she continues walking back to the crowd.
“Well hello,” he says with a smile — “you lost?” He asks
“Oh uh, no no I’m not lost” is all you’re able to stutter out
“You sure?” He says with curious eyes “pretty girl like you shouldn’t be back here, alone.” he says with a smirk
“Yeah,” you say clearing your throat “I’m not lost, I’m actually looking for the restroom” you say with pink tinted cheeks matching those of a cherub
Eddie’s eyes trail all over your body and back to your face as he licks his lips “I’m Matt’s daughter, y/n” you spit out as you hold out your hand. Fuck, why did you say that? He’s not gonna want you, after learning you’re his best friends, daughter.
“Oh, shit. Um, hi nice to meet you,” he says as he shakes your hand
“I gotta head back, we’re about to go on stage.” he says as he does his best to avoid looking at any other part of your body
“Ok” is all you can say, tone laced in disappointment
After you head to the backstage area, you decide to watch your dad and Eddie play from the side stage. The show is amazing, the crowd is crazy; with crowd surfers and pits, the whole band looks totally in their element, like they all really love what they do, which warmed your heart.
After the second encore is over, the guys clamber backstage, sweaty and out of breathe. Your dad picks you up and swings your body around, still buzzing off the high from performing, placing you down. He starts to call out to his band mates
“Guys, guys” he says as he waves his hands around. “this is my daughter, y/n. Y/n, these are the guys: Eddie, Gareth and Jeff” he says as he points to each individually
They all say “hi” in unison with a wave. All, except Eddie.
You wave back as you let out a shy “hi”
As you continue with your night, hanging out with your dad and the guys backstage. Some talks of going to a bar come up, and obviously your dad declines per suggested by Eddie. You see how close, him and your dad are. Laughing at only jokes they understood and silently talking with their eyes. You’ve never known your dad to keep friendships or relationships for that matter, so it was refreshing to see.
Your dad comes up to you to bid you a goodbye. He says that he needs to go home to see his wife and avoid all this temptation, you and Eddie chuckle at that.
“Well, I’ll go with you.” you say to him
“No, no. You stay here, hang out, get to know the guys, have fun, angel” he says as he heads towards the exit.
As the night went on you talked a lot with Gareth and Jeff about your dad, touring and how corroded coffin started. They were older and married so there were surprisingly no groupies backstage like you normally picture at a metal show. Eddie wasn’t married but he was trying to cut back on his sexual appetite of both men and women alike. He had his fare share of hook ups, and by fare share you mean he’s had a lot of sex and a lot of different partners all over the world since the 90s. But, as much as eddie was trying to control his “appetite” he couldn’t help but secretly sneak looks at you and your hot little body. Fuck, if you were both around the same age and you had come to one of his shows in the 90s, he would’ve definitely snatched you out of the crowd. He couldn’t deny your beauty, you must’ve gotten that from your mom, he thinks to himself.
Gareth and Jeff both head to the bar with their manager to have a couple drinks, while you and Eddie decline. As they leave Eddie whispers out a “fuck” while looking at his phone.
“You okay?” You ask
He looks up from his phone, as his jaw clenches.
“Uber keeps canceling” he says through gritted teeth
“Where are you headed? I drove here, I can just drop you off where you need to go.” you offer sweetly
“You sure?” He says with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide
“Yeah of course, I’m parked just over here.” you say as you head to the car park. You glance back to check if he’s following behind, as you do he shoots you a little side smile
You press the button on your keys unlocking the doors and before you can even get to it, Eddie is racing around to open it for you.
“It’s the least I can do” he says sending you a wink, that almost made your knees buckle. He gets in and after putting his hotel address in the maps app on your phone, you and him get to talking, laughing and maybe even a little flirting, if you’re reading it correctly, It’s almost like you both had known each other in a past life. You’ve never understood, why people say cheesy shit like that but woah, now you do.
Eddie can’t help but look at you when you talk, he’s enamored by your beauty and how eloquently you carry yourself, but you’re also witty and sarcastic, which he loves. You kind of remind him of himself just way prettier with an almost old soul maturity, he’s never had
As you pull up to his hotel, you don’t want to say goodbye, you wish you had the balls to ask if you could hang out more with him, but that might be weird considering you’re his friend/band mates daughter, and if your dad ever found out you were hanging out with Eddie one on one in his hotel, who knows how he’d react, your dad was kind of a loose canon in that way.
Suddenly Eddie’s voice broke you out of your all consuming thoughts—“do you want to uh, come up? I have a bottle of wine I don’t wanna finish alone” he says with a smile and the most adorable puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen
“Um” you says as you stare at your dash board “yeah, shit why not?” You say as you smile back, you park into one of the open spots and head up to Eddie’s hotel room.
Once inside he tells you to get comfortable, and says you can sit or lay on the bed if you’d like, so you choose the latter— you toe off your docs and crawl onto the king sized bed, plopping your head against the fluffy pillow—as you lay there your eyes follow Eddie around the room, his pants hanging low on his hips, shirt hiked up a bit from him rubbing his hand underneath it, he grabs two glasses and the bottle of wine out of the small fridge and walks back to the bed setting them down on the nightstand— “I’m gonna take a quick shower, is that okay? Like five minutes I just want to rinse off” he says — “be my guest” you say as you gesture towards the bathroom, making him smile
He wasn’t lying when he said five minutes because once you heard the shower stop you looked at the time on your phone and it had been exactly five minutes—butterflies began erupting in the pit of your stomach, you’re alone with this man you have fantasied about for years, thinking those thoughts would never come to fruition, since the whole situation was completely taboo—but holy shit here you are in his hotel room alone with him, if you wanted to make a move you totally could.
Eddie walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his hips water droplets adorning his skin, holy fuck was all you could think as you gawked at him from your place on the bed
“You like what you see?” He says to you with a devious smirk
“I do” you accidentally blurt out, cherub cheeks returning from earlier
“Oh?” Eddie says with his eyebrows raised “is that right?” His tone becoming increasingly more sexy and almost dark
At this point you’re so turned on you say “fuck it” and decide to indulge in his little game, hoping the prize is his dick buried deep inside of you by the end “mhmm I do, Eddie” you say as you bite your lip—that’s the first time you’ve said his name all night and it made his dick twitch, well that and that sexy fucking look on your face—he can’t hold back any longer, he knew what he was doing inviting you up, but he held out hope that he could be strong and just have a little night cap with a friend who he’s instantly clicked with, but Eddies not as strong as he thought he was.
“Watch out baby, not sure you know what you’re asking for, there” he says with a pleased look on his face — “Eddie I’m a grown woman, I know exactly what I’m asking for” you challenge back with a raised eyebrow -oh you were good- he thought to himself
“You sure that’s what you want, princess?” He asks eyes almost as eager as yours—the pet name made your pussy flutter
“Yes, Eddie I want you, please?” You say with innocent eyes as he’s walking up to the side of the bed you’re sitting on, the wine on the nightstand completely forgotten about
“Mmm, not sure you can handle me, baby” he says back with a shit eating grin
“Well then I guess your gunna have to stretch my tight little pussy out so I can, handle you” you shoot back with a smile matching his—Eddie’s face instantly dropping into a look of hunger that made a chill run down your spine, and made your heart speed up
As his thighs hit the side of the bed, you get up on your knees and crawled over to him, he reaches out grabbing your lower back and pulling you flush against his body— but instead of kissing you like you expected, he reaches to put some hair behind your ear as he whispers out a “so beautiful” that made your eyes slightly water—growing up you never heard words of affirmation, like that and now every time you did, it made you want to cry
“Thank you” you whisper back with a wobbly voice
Eddie grabs your chin and brings your eyes up to look at his—“you okay, sweet thing?” He asks and you nod with a smile
“I really want this Eddie” you whisper back “I have for awhile”
He seems taken aback by your words as his eyes widen
“What do you mean for awhile?” He says curiously
“Ever since I watched a stupid interview of yours after my dad made the band” —- the mention of your dad, slightly making him cringe but not enough to stop
“Did you have a little crush on me, baby?” He says cockily
“I did”—“I do” you say as you correct yourself
“Aw, that’s cute, that’s real cute”—“what the boys in college not doing it for you?” He teases
“I’m not interested in boys” you shoot back “I only associate with men” you say with the same eloquence he thought about in the car
“Well lucky for you baby, I’m all man” he says making you snort out a laugh at his cheesy line
He tackles you onto the bed playfully, as he kisses all over your face—this felt too perfect, like it’s something you both had been doing for years, not like you’d just met for the first time tonight
Finally he kisses your lips, giving you a few pecks before it starts to turn heavy, he slips his tongue into your mouth rubbing it against yours, he was an amazing kisser—you definitely didn’t want to think about how he��d gotten that way—but woah you’ve never gotten wet from just making out before—his hands start to roam over your body, down to your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. He breaks the kiss to look down at your spread legs—pretty red see through panties on display for him “fuck” he moans out as he notices the wet spot, just for him—“look at that baby” he whispered down to you “fucking pussies already so wet for me”—“did my kisses do that to you, baby?” He asks
“Yes, everything you do gets me so wet” you whine out
“Mmm, is that right?” — “I like the sound of that, maybe I’ll keep you, princess. Use this wet little pussy every time I come back from a show, would you like that?” — “I would, daddy, I would love that” you moan out
“Daddy?” Eddie says as his eyebrows raise into his bangs
“Shit, sorry if that’s weird” you say back tone full of embarrassment
“Ya know, it shouldn’t turn me on coming from you, but fuck, everything you do is so sexy”—-“well lucky for you I never call my dad that, it’s only reserved for someone special” you say as you bite your lip—“oh really? Special you say?” He says with a smirk—-“okay yeah, I can be your daddy, that means something different to you kids today anyway, right?” He says “I’m not a kid, but yeah exactly” you say back
Eddie begins kissing you again, this time with more passion and desire, he reaches down between your thighs rubbing over you clothed pussy—“can I take your panties off, sweet girl?” He says as his eyes bore down into yours
“Yes, please” you say in a sweet tantalizing voice
He begins ridding you of your red thong as he shoots them toward his nightstand, they land on the neck of the wine bottle and you both laugh—“I’m keeping those” eddie says to you as he brings his fingers down to your dripping sex, he gently runs his calloused finger tips over your little bundle of nerves, making you moan out—“that’s right baby, let me hear you” he whispers as he begins nipping at your neck— Eddie moves his fingers down to gather your slick and then returns back to your clit—“can I taste you, baby?” He asks sweetly
“Please Eddie, yes” you can’t help but moan out
He decides to lift up your shirt to take it off—“cute shirt by the way” he says as he pulls it off of your body and over your head, making you giggle. Once your shirts off, Eddie reaches behind your back expertly unhooking your matching red bra with one hand, letting the straps fall down around your arms, he picks it up and throws it haphazardly across the bed, landing in front of the desk on the other side of the room
He begins moving down your body, with soft calculated kisses, occasionally sucking different spots, he stops and lays in front of your most intimate area, grabbing your thighs to spread them a bit more and getting a good look at you all wet and bare before him—-he growls as he sees your pussy on display for him “fuck, you have such a pretty pussy, baby”—“bet it tastes even better” he says as he kisses the top of your mound where a little patch of dark curly hair sits, you bite your lip at the intimacy of it—-this didn’t feel like just a one night stand or random lay, it felt special— Eddie begins by licking you from your little hole to your clit finally giving it the attention it so badly wanted, you moan out as he swirls his tongue around it and then takes it into his mouth, lightly sucking—-nothing but loud moans and filthy sounds of sucking and licking fill the room—-“oh my god, Eddie yes right there, that’s so good, daddy” you borderline scream out—god this man knew how to use his tongue, he was incredible.
He continues to lick and suck as he brings two fingers to your entrance, he gently pushes them inside of you stretching you out for what’s about to come, your moans get louder and he can’t help but smile—your moans sound like the best song he’s ever heard, he wants to hear them over and over again forever
Once he curls his fingers up and hits that spot deep inside that you were never able to reach, the coil in your belly begins to tighten and your legs shake as your hand reaches down to tangle in his hair—“that’s it baby, cum for me, cum for daddy” he says pulling you over the edge, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, you grip his hair and mewl out obscenities—- after you’ve fully come down from your high, Eddie moves up your body, You can feel the hardness rubbing up against your overstimulated sex, you grab the towel around his waist and rip it off as you look down waiting to see the dick you’ve had wet dreams about, it springs out all pretty and pink, thick and curved, pre cum oozing from the tip, it twitches a couple times and all you can think about is having it buried deep inside your throat—“can I please suck your cock?” You ask up at him with puppy dog eyes, silently begging and Eddie can’t believe how such filthy words could come out such a beautifully, innocent looking face—but it makes him growl, makes another side of him, he didn’t want to show you, come out.
“Get on your knees on the floor, now” he demands, change of voice throwing you off
“Now, don’t make me say it again!” he growls back — “yes, daddy” you say as you hop off the bed and fall down to your knees in front of his leaking tip “open up wide” he says, voice laced in desperation, you open your mouth as wide as you can while sticking your tongue out—“good girl, that’s a good fucking girl, you take direction so good baby” he says “good girls get rewarded, okay? So keep listening to daddy and he’ll take care of you, understand?” He says, you nod as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock
He grabs your hair and pulls your head back while he bends down to get in your face “nope, I need words baby” he says through gritted teeth “yes, daddy” you whimper out in shock at his behavior, no one has ever been this rough with you but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your pussy gush, you were loving this—“that’s it, good girl, open that mouth up wide again for me, sweetheart” he says—you open up and stick your tongue back out, Eddie let’s a glob of spit fall right onto it, making you moan out—-fuck this man was gunna be the death of you, you didn’t know you could get this turned on from such filthy acts you only seen done in porn—but here you are wetness dripping down your thighs from how worked up you’re getting
You leave Eddie’s spit on your tongue as he begins to work his cock into your mouth, spit mixing with yours to make the tip and base extra wet, he bucks his hips hitting your throat, you breath through your nose and take him to the hilt, eyes watering and jaw tingling— “that’s it, that’s a good girl” — “fuck baby that mouth of yours is amazing” he says as he begins moving in and out of your mouth. He moans out your name and a couple fucks as he gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail, guiding you up and down on his cock continuously hitting the back of your throat—finally he lifts you up and off of him back up to your feet. Your lips and chin filled with spit and pre cum, cheeks and eyes filled with tears—“fuck you’re so pretty, baby, look so fucking pretty for me” he says as he kisses your lips, backing you up until your legs hit the bed and guiding you to lay down as he grabs and spreads your thighs, he gets down into your face as he asks “are you ready, sweet girl?”
“Yes, yes I’m ready please” you respond with a whine
“Whatever princess wants” he said with a gentle smile, a complete 360 to how he was just treating you earlier, but you didn’t care, you really liked both sides of him
He begins to line himself up with your entrance, cock still wet with your spit, as he pushes in, you can feel yourself stretching for him, but it felt so good, so full. “Oh my god, yes! Don’t stop please” you moan out “I know baby I know, i won’t stop, I won’t fucking stop” he says as he begins thrusting deeper and faster inside you, he brings his forehead down to yours as you both moan into each others mouths—-this wasn’t fucking, this felt like love making and so different from any sex you’ve ever had—-it felt intimate and sensual, like Eddie fit your body like a missing puzzle piece
“Oh fuck, baby, your pussies so tight, it feels so good, so good”… he continued repeating
Your belly filling with that familiar burn as your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, your pussy tightening around his cock even more, making him moan out—“fuckin pussy just milking my cock, where do you want it baby?” He says as he bites his lip “inside me please, please cum inside me daddy” you grunt out “fuck, fuck I’m cumming!” He shouts as white spurts paint your insides.
Eddie falls on top of you, kissing all over your face again, making you laugh—“I’ll be right back” he says, after a couple minutes he’s coming back to clean up his mess between your thighs. You move back to your place on the pillow as Eddie lays beside you, pulling you into his chest “that was”…”wow” he says —-“yeah” you say back, you both laid there in silence staring up at the ceiling
-fuck I’m in trouble- Eddie thought to himself
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THANK YOU FOR READING! 💗
COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED
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leonw4nter · 4 months
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(Second) Prettiest Fairy Princess
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Dad!DI!Leon x F!Reader
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“Say ‘bye’ to momma!” Leon beams as he holds his daughter, Aurora– or Rory, as you two lovingly call her.
“Bye momma!” the little girl in his arms beam. One hand wound around his neck and the other raised up, a tiny hand waving at you.
You say your own share of byes too, pressing a kiss to your 4 year-old’s cheek before giving Leon his own kiss to his lightly chapped yet still pink lips. You get in the Uber Leon picked up for you, shutting the door and heading to the mall where you will be having a girls’ day with Helena and Hunnigan, your former coworkers. Despite retiring because you were going to become a mother, you still stayed close with the two.
As soon as the car is no longer in his sight, he heads back into your shared home. Rory asks to be put back down so Leon does as she wants, bending down with a slight groan and making sure she’s standing upright before he lets go and bends back up, another groan escaping his mouth along with the faint pops of joints. My age is definitely catching up with me now, he thinks to himself though he doesn’t mind if it’s you he’ll be aging with.
“Daddy! I want to play!” Rory excitedly says as she takes Leon’s hand with her tiny ones and drags him to the stairs, heading for the direction of her room.
“Alright, alright, kiddo. Let’s head up, no?” he asks with a pleased smile. There’s dishes waiting in the sink and laundry waiting to be folded but they all could wait if it means spending some time making his daughter smile. The sight of his daughter’s grin and the gold wedding band that flashes a bright gold beam whenever the sunlight hits it is something his former self didn’t think he could ever experience. Back in ‘98, he was certain that the farthest length of meeting the greatest love in his life and starting a family would stop at dreams and wishful thinking but he was wrong.
He didn’t even realize they had reached the top of the stairs as he almost trips, engrossed in the sweet monologue he had going on in that head of his. His daughter’s tiny arms push him into the pastel yellow and pink room before shutting the door and proceeding to yank out tutus and tiaras from a toy basket.
“Sit.” she sternly says as she points to the carpeted ground right beneath Leon’s feet. Not one to disobey a lady’s orders, he promptly sits down with crossed legs and looks at her with genuine interest. Not too long after, Leon is dolled up to look the part of “a pretty princess for a tea party but you’re only the second prettiest because I’m the first one”, which earns a small laugh from him. Even to himself, he's second to everything because he always keeps his girls at first.
Rory hands him a small mirror so Leon can see the sparkly splash of pink, green and orange on his eyelids as well as the most pink blush he’s ever seen. His lips are the brightest shade of red ever making him look real goofy but if it means making his daughter’s day, he doesn’t mind; she’s the princess and he’s just the jester (and the occasional knight in shining armor). She swiftly puts her own play make-up on, her own lids smeared with different sparkly shades of pink and her lips in the same red shade as Leon’s.
“Your highness, let me get the tea and cookies.” she says in a wonky British accent.
“Alright, my beautiful princess.” Leon says, though he doesn’t put on a fake accent.
“Daddy, no! You’re supposed to also say ‘and please give me the sugar plum tea’! Again!” she says with a hand to the hip, dropping the accent.
“Okay,” he softly mutters with an amused smile. She definitely got the sass from her mother. “Alright, my beautiful princess, please give me the sugar plum tea!” he repeats.
She smiles brightly and excitedly announces that it’s coming right up. She walks out of the room, occasionally coming back in to take some more cups, plates, spoons, and bowls. Wait? Bowls? The princess is putting her heart and soul into this so-called “sugar plum tea”. Because the princess was brought up with manners and polite etiquette, she served Leon some cookies and cakes as he waited, along with a Beanie Baby that her uncle Chris got her (insisting it’s a snack, providing no further explanations). Playing along, he loudly made chomping sounds while she walked out of the room and busied herself with the tea. After a few minutes, she walks back inside with a tea pot and tiny cups filled with water.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, madame. My chef ahem is new to the kitchen so I had to tell him how to prepare tea the princess way,” she apologizes as she sets the cup in front of Leon with a complementary saucer.
With a sharp eye, he looks at the water and sees that there isn’t anything floating on the water; the water doesn’t look cloudy too and it’s impossible for her to have gone downstairs and taken water from the dog’s bowl so he deemed it safe to drink. After all, she did exert some effort into actually “making” the tea. He hooks his fingers in the loop of the tea cup, making sure to emulate the sticking out pinky finger just like Rory is doing before taking a sip. “The water doesn’t have an odd taste. Okay, she definitely wasn’t fooling around,” Leon quietly observes. He gives her a bright smile, complimenting the tea and calling it “the most delightful beverage to ever tickle my taste buds, a true drink fit for the prettiest princesses in this kingdom”, which prompts the little girl in front of him to giggle and start complimenting the “chef” who prepared the “tea” (the “chef” is, in fact, the Djungelskog that Leon got for you when you were 6 months into the pregnancy and very much emotional every time you saw the bear at IKEA’s window or online site). Apparently the chef is French and has worked with Barney and the Little Einsteins, according to her. This entire moment is too silly and wholesome so Leon decides to take a selfie, making a mental note to send this to you later on.
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The tea party carried on for a few more minutes until she got drowsy, prompting Leon to get up and carry her over to her bed. Grabbing a few sheets of wipes, he removes the eyeshadow and lipstick on her face before unclipping some clips from her hair and taking her tutu off. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep and Leon picks the toys up, pouring the water out of the pots and cups and wiping them dry before putting them back in the basket. He takes this chance to finally get back at the chores waiting for him but not before he sends the picture to you. Opening the app and choosing the contact named “my Y/N”, he sends a short message asking how you are and detailing the sweet playtime he had with your daughter along with the picture. After an hour or two, he finally finishes doing the chores– even sweeping the floors and polishing the dining table, as well as bathing the dog. He gets in the shower and freshens up, remembering the tender moment hours ago and finding himself smiling wider each time.
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It’s now quarter to 6 and Leon finishes setting up dinner just as the bell rings. He practically skips to the door, his face lighting up with joy when he sees you. He takes your bag and slings it over his shoulder, undoing the strap of your sandals and asking about how your day went. As you step out of them, he takes the heels and places it on the shoe cabinet and puts your bag on the couch. Rory jumps off of the couch, excitedly walking over to you and hugs your legs with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. She tells you about her and her dad’s day, tiny hand gently holding your wrist as she leads you to the dining table for dinner. You were just about to reach over a piece of food and cut it up into smaller pieces for her when Leon places a hand on yours, telling you that he’ll do it.
“C’mon honey, you were out walking all day. Just sit and have dinner, I’ll do it this time,” he softly says. You don’t argue against him, letting him do the cutting. Rory does all the talking, which you are thankful for since your social battery is nearly drained.
Dinner tasted amazing as usual and now your entire family is in the living room, watching The Little Prince on the TV. What Coco does to Leon, The Little Prince does to you; you’ve never finished the movie without shedding a few tears and laying on Leon’s shoulder for some comfort. Though you both know it’s a movie that has you reduced to tears, you still choose to put it on because not only is it genuinely good, it’s a movie Rory loves. While waiting for the movie to finally load, a question pops up in your mind.
“Sweetie, where’d you get the water for your tea from?” you ask. Leon doesn’t mind, probably guessing that she got it from the water bottle you forgot to bring downstairs in the morning.
“I got it from the fish tank!” she beams. Your smile swiftly drops and your head turns to Leon; you swear you’ve never seen the color drain that fast from his face. The movie finally loads but Leon feels slightly off, the food in his stomach making him feel a little odd. He’s that weak for his little girl; he’s a seasoned agent trained to read people by their mannerisms but his daughter’s devious giggling made it past his normally highly-perceptive gaze.
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NOTE - I whipped this fic up right after @agent-dessis-posts asked me if I write dad!Leon and I immediately got that burst of motivation. There was this book called "Make A Wish" that I read around mid-November and the dad matched ID/DI!Leon's description so the whole time I just pictured that version of Leon whilst reading and it was AMAZING (the dad in the book is a single dad to a nine year old which made it even more amazing for me). Anyways, you guys seem to really like my fics which I appreicate a lot so thank you so much!!! I'll post the directory to my blog soon, I'm just making things look cuter :)
The heart dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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szasfuckingwife · 11 months
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SOUNDGASM
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RICHBOY!EREN YEAGER x RICHGIRL!READER
WARNINGS: SMUT, Eren calls reader a slut and whore, swearing, Eren is a secret fuck boy, reader has she/her pronouns, no mention of reader’s appearance other than what she’s wearing
SYNOPSIS: Y/N is new to Marley, just moving a few months prior. Her parents are rich doctors and she wants to be a professional golfer. At the country club, Grisha Yeager introduces his son, Eren Yeager to her. As she teach him how to improve his golfing, Eren teaches her one or two new things..
A/N: it’s finally summer time, and this summer me and my friends are going golfing🤭 i hope i find my eren + soundgasm is such a summer song, reminds me of 2016 drake for some reason
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It’s 1:25pm at the country club. The sun is shining, the grass was greener than the pockets of the people there. And, above all, a pretty brunette and a pretty blonde are in that field playing a good game of golf.
Eren has his club in hand, his eyes are on the ball. Noticing that he won’t get a good swing from that distance, he scoots himself back a few steps until he finally feels comfortable. His veiny hands latch onto the club a little tighter as he takes a deep breath.
“Are you gonna hit the ball or…?” Armin is tired of waiting. He’s been waiting for his best friend ever since kindergarten. Eren had to stay behind a grade? Armin was waiting. Eren had detention? Armin was waiting.
But waiting for his best friend to hit a stupid ball was so damn infuriating.
Suddenly, Eren’s club went sky high before he hit the ball, sending the white sphere flying over the sky. The green eyed boy whistled in satisfaction; he was getting better each day.
Eren turned to his friend with a smug look on his face, “See! You want perfection? Be patient.”
Armin rolled his eyes before the two heard the familiar voice of Grisha Yeager, Eren’s father and the CFO of a tech company.
“Boys! Get in, drinks are out!” He yelled, waving his hand to grab their attention but all they could see was the bling of his Rolex. “Oh, and son? Getting better!”
Eren smiled, flashing his pearly whites.
“Not better than me though.”
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This was your first time at this country club since your parents moved states. Not only was it awkward as most of the girls your age played tennis instead of golf, but all the guys who played golf were…facially challenged.
“Sweetheart, smile.” Your mother spoke through gritted teeth. She had noticed your unusual (but expected) awkwardness even when you were driving to the club.
You looked at her before sighing deeply, “Everyone here is just…weird.”
“The girls play tennis. You know how to play, why don’t you join them?”
Oh yeah, join the girls that laughed when they saw my personalised club!
If anything, you wished your mother would stop trying to get you to have fun so much, because all it did was remind you how much fun you were missing out on back home. It was heartbreaking to say bye to genuine friends and say hello to well…the plastics.
“Y/N!”, You heard your father’s voice and instantly turned around to spot him. He waved you over, looking eager and excited.
“Why is he so happy? I’m scared..” You mutter at your mother. She laughs and pushed you to his direction.
You try not to draw as much attention to yourself as you walk despite your very loud father yelling your name. Upon arrival, you see Mr Yeager, your fathers new friend.
He’s also the man that prompted the idea to move states.
Your father enthusiastically put his arm over your shoulder, “This is my daughter, Y/N.”
You stick your hand out to shake Mr Yeager’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you sir.”
“Nice to meet you too. Your father tells me that you’re applying to U of M. What’s got you so interested in Marley?”
If you wanted to be frank, and boastful, you’d tell him that you didn’t apply but rather you got a scholarship. Whether it was nepotism because it was your dads alma matter or if it was your big brain and athleticism, it was the best offer you’ve gotten.
“I heard they do good Neurology courses. I wanted to go to university and well, to put it short, make sure I have a plan B.”, You reply, smiling sweetly at both your father and Mr Yeager.
Grisha nods in acknowledgment, giving you back the same smile, “What’s your plan A then?”
“Professional golf, of course.”
It sounds boring, but golf was one of those hobbies that just never went away. You remember when you were 9, going with your father to the golf course just to see what it was like. When your dad taught you how to hit the ball, you loved it.
As you grew older, hitting the golf ball became your outlet. Like that one time you imagined that it was your teachers head instead of the ball after she gave you a C in a test.
Where others prefer an ice rink or a race track, you prefer your club and the nice smell of freshly cut grass.
“Y/N reminds me of Jordan in ‘88 but instead of a basketball court, it’s a golf course.”, embarrassment filled your body as your dad bragged about you. All you could do was laugh at his strange comparison.
“Ah, my boy does some golf in his spare time. He’s not trying to go pro, I hope, but, he could definitely use some lessons from you if you’re that good. In fact…” He looks around, squinting his eyes. “Eren!”
Right then and there, you pray with every bone in your body that this ‘Eren’ wasn’t those boys you saw earlier. God knows what you’d do to avoid teaching them a single thing.
What came, however, was a surprise. And the surprise came in the form of a boy. Not too old, maybe nineteen. He wore navy shorts and an emerald green ralph lauren vest over a plain white tee.
His hair was gelled in a small bun in the back of head. You don’t mind though, since it gave you a better view of his chiselled jawline. You’re sure it could cut your mothers diamonds at home. His eyes were green. No brighter than the grass outside, no deeper than the vest he was dressed in but some odd mixture.
He’s hot, you thought.
Grisha out a firm hand on his sons shoulder as he introduced you and your father to him, “This is my second son, Eren. You’ve already met Zeke by the tennis court.”
As your father gets into another conversation about Zeke Yeager, all you can do is stare at the curve of his younger brother’s muscles. You wish that he lifted the sleeve of his t shirt ever so slightly-
“What’s your name?”
You looked at Eren, and he looked at you.
His smile was just so…genuine!
“I’m Y/N.” You smiled sweetly back at him.
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After your fathers urged you to go outside, you find yourself next to Eren on the kart. He’s driving, riding across the beautiful field.
The sky is honey coloured, the sun slowly descends giving the lake a beautiful shimmer. You’d look at that view, but there’s already a good view next to you.
Eren finally stops the kart before exiting. The both of you get your equipment from the back of the kart and begin to play.
“So…uhh how do you like it here in Marley?” Eren says, grunting after he hits the ball. You stand there, semi criticising his swing, semi fawning over him. “It’s definitely different from Trost.”
You sigh, “Yeah, the air is a little different. And not too many people play golf here.”
Eren looks at you, chuckling whilst shaking his head a little, “Aren’t you glad you met me then?”
You have no idea how glad I am.
You stay silent, instead choosing to smile and getting ready to hit the ball. Eren whistles when he sees the height of your swing. “Where’d you learn how to hit like that?”
After a couple more swings (and misses from Eren), you guys sit in the kart.
“So, where are you applying for university?”, you ask looking up at him. He scoffs, taking a sip of his water.
“No clue. All these offers and all I really want to do is go to Malta ‘n relax.” You notice how careless his face is when he speaks. He must not care that much about his future.
I mean, his parents are rich enough that both him and his brother can live off them for as long as they want to.
You look down, not in embarrassment, but in awkwardness. It’s strange seeing parents not urge their kids to go to university like your parents and Trost parents do.
“What’s your plans?”
You explain how you want to become a pro at golf. Eren listens attentively but, he get’s distracted when the breeze washes over the both of you.
The hem of your sport skirts lift up ever so slightly and Eren’s heart begins to race. For the next few conversations, he can’t stay focused. I mean, he’s just seen the curve of your ass, who could?
As the conversations die down, you and Eren go back to playing golf. It’s Eren’s turn and if he’s lucky, he can get a hole in one. He does what he did earlier: pull his hips back slightly, legs apart, breathe and…
Eren swung and you swore you saw the ball fly into the stratosphere.
“Yeager, I didn’t know you were the athlete.” You chuckle, shocked that he was actually really good.
He shrugs, “I don’t try. I feel like it just comes naturally..”
You roll your eyes as you walk over to him, pointing the end of your personalised club at him, “Teach me?”
Eren licks his lips, trying to find the words to speak but, the look that you’re giving him makes him feel butterflies. “Yeah…come ‘ere..”
You begin with your starting position, y’know the position that has won you regional competitions and a 2nd place in national.
However, you hear Eren scoff. “Don’t know how you’ve been able to pull of holes in one with that position..”
Suddenly, you feel his breath on your neck as he moves your hand up slightly to your upper chest, brushing agains your boobs.
“I don’t want this to be awkward but can you move your hips back ever so slightly..?” Eren chuckles in embarrassment. You do as he says and move your hips back until you feel his crotch against you. “Now, practice your swing without the club…”
Eren was filled with glee as he felt your ass rub up against him while you practiced your swing. “Is this alright?”
“It’s perfect…So fuckin good..”
Your brows furrow and then you finally feel it. His hard cock almost bursting out of his shorts. You didn’t stop your movements, seeing the fun in making him more distracted. He was absolutely mesmerised seeing your ass go back ‘n forth on his crotch.
Suddenly, you stop, sighing with your lips tilted up into a smirk, “I feel like I’m ready now! Thanks for the hel-”
As soon as you tried to walk away, Eren pulled you back against him. You swore you heard his heart beating a thousand times per second, and his cock was still rock hard.
“I can show you a couple more tips.” He whispered in your ear, “Just gotta listen for me, yeah?”
You nod before Eren throws your club onto the ground and pulls you into the kart.
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As soon as you both sneak into the lavish looking bathroom, his lips are on yours. Hungrily making out with you, not giving you a chance to breathe. He gingerly moves you against the wall, giving you more breathless kisses.
He feverishly pulls up your lilac polo top, exposing your stomach and sports bra. Nothing comes to mind as he starts to plant wet kisses along your collarbone.
You try to fondle with his dick through his shorts but Eren wouldn’t let you, deciding he wants to make you feel good before he does.
He sits you on the white, pristine counter, pulling off your shorts in the process. “Fuck, you’re so hot…”, he says in a shushed tone. You can’t help but moan when you feel his hands on you, especially when he begins to rub your clit under your panties.
He starts of slow, achingly slow. All you want is for him to ruin you, rough and hard. But Eren is a tease, he wants you to beg for him.
And, he won’t stop till you do.
Eren feels your slick on his fingers and begins to chuckle. You look so cute like this: a whimpering mess, bucking your hips against his hand. He smirks when he hears you mew small ‘Please, Eren’s and ‘it feels s’ good!’s
“You’re such a pretty girl, huh? You’re doing so- ha- so good for me.” He grins. You see him lower himself, peeling of your panties so he’s at face level with your wet pussy. “What do you want, baby?”
You looked at him with jaded eyes, “I wanna cum..”
He shakes his head, tutting. He looked so different to that sweet boy who cheered you on at the golf course. “Manners, princess. What do you want?”
As he repeats his question, he slides a finger inside you. You moan and it sounds like beautiful to the brunette. You try to regain your voice as he stares into your eyes, blankly as if he was bored.
“I want you to make me cum, please.”
He chuckles again before letting his lips meet with your pussy. Eren takes his time with you, you’re not one of those valley girls that he’s fucked dumb in the past.
You’re different, so why should he treat you like them?
Nothing could be heard in the bathroom but your moans and the sound of your wetness against Eren’s mouth. He lapped his tongue at your clit whilst he continued to fuck you with his fingers, smiling against your sex when your fingers rip through his locks.
“Taste…so good, Y/N…” He muttered. You were so so close, wanting nothing more but to make a mess all over his mouth. Eren knows, he can feel you tightening up. “Gonna cum?”
You nod quickly but just then, he stops.
“Eren-” “Shhh, turn around, show me that ass..”
You do as he says, bending over the desks as he marvels at the curve of your ass behind you. You feel Eren strike your flesh a couple of times in awe before he slides his huge dick inside you.
He groans beside your ear as he hears you gasp, “Oh my fuckk…”
Every stroke feels like he was going deeper, kissing your cervix. His hands traveled to your chest as he lifted the bra revealing your perfect tits. You moan louder as he pounces on your neck again, kissing and biting you whilst his fingers were busy playing with your boobs.
“You knew what you were doing when I was teaching you how to swing, hm?” He chuckles. When he sees you nod, Eren slaps your ass again. “Words.”
“Yes!” you cry.
“You knew that it’d end up with you like this, right? You wanted this.” He asks, earning another ‘yes’ in response. “None of your boyfriends at Trost fucked you like this.”
“N-no! No, they didn’t! Fuck!” You moan. He tilts your head so you can look at the mirror and you finally see Eren, topless. You don’t know when he took of his top, and you were too fucked out to realise. “Shit, you’re so deep in me..”
He smiles at your comment, slapping your ass once more, “I know, sweetheart. Look at you. You pretend to- fuck- be a good girl in front of everyone but now look at you.”
You feel his hand wrapped around your throat as he pulls you back. Eren’s cheek is against yours as you both look at yourself through the mirror. Now, he’s fucking you harder than he did before. Harder and faster.
“You’re such a slut, hm?” He kisses your cheek before speeding up his thrusts. Your moans are louder than ever as he continues to ruin you.
“‘s too big!” It’s scary how croaky your voice sounds. He kisses your crown before leaning your head back and forcing your mouth open with his fingers.
“Stick out your tongue.”
And after you did so, a glob of spit fell from Eren’s lips and landed on your tongue. “Good fuckin’ girl! You close?”
Mistakenly, you nod again earning another harsh smack on your ass. “Yes, I’m close!”
“Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?!” He asks, his thrusts are amazingly fast and Eren’s lips are on your neck again.
The sight of him makes you cum alone, sweaty forehead that makes his hair curl upwards, his toned body and veiny hands gripping onto your waist and his green eyes boring into yours.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you cry out. When you reach your climax, Eren doesn’t stop.
If anything, he thrusts deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. Your whole body shakes in his touch as he whispers the most filthy things in your ear.
“This pussys fuckin’ mine now, you hear me? I’m gonna be the one that makes you a slutty mess. You’re gonna come to me when your horny, yeah? Anytime, baby, just say the word and I won’t wait to fuck you like the whore you are.”
Although you know you shouldn’t, you nod again, your voice is too broken to respond.
He pulls out and grabs you, forcing you onto your knees. Immediately, you let Eren put his thick cock in your mouth, fucking your face just as quickly as he fucked your pussy.
You feel his thrusts get sloppier as you finally see the white ropes of cum shoot out of his cock onto your face. He groans out so many expletives but you’re too busy finishing him off to hear, making him shake at your mouth still sucking him.
Once he’s done reaching his climax, the two of you look at each other for a moment before laughing. You both look a mess, Eren with his mouth red from kissing you so hard and sweaty from…well, fucking you.
You look like a real pornstar, Eren thinks. If it wasn’t for you very obvious ambition in golfing, Eren thinks you’d make a great model.
“We need to get back…” You whisper, “They’re gonna kill us since we left all of the equipment there.”
You stand up and reach down to get your clothes, he helps you dress and dresses himself. Eren takes a tissue and wets it with water before cleaning his cum off your face.
“Next time, I’ll fuck you in the kart. And after that, I’ll fuck you on the field.” He whispers, causing you to giggle.
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joeys-babe · 19 days
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Joey B Blurbs: Boyfriend
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Summary: You prank Joe by calling him your boyfriend instead of your husband.
Warnings: Unserious/funny, pranks!
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Imagine Universe: Into the Mystic
A/N: Part 2 of blurb night!
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April 4, 2024
I was cuddled up on the couch, relaxed by the rain hitting the roof, and the twins played in their playroom while I watched TV.
Joe had left early this morning to go workout, and his mood seemed positive since he was able to start throwing again recently. His happy demeanor was infectious because I couldn't be more prouder of him than I was now. He rehabbed like a man on a mission, and he was now seeing benefits from it.
I was still lying in bed when he gave me a quick peck before leaving. Joe then said bye to my bump, and he was off to the gym.
Since then, I have gotten the boys ready for the day, fixed breakfast, did some quick cleaning around the house, made some lunch, and talked to Robin over the phone about Joe’s injury status.
I caught a whiff of Joe’s scent off of the sweatshirt of his that I had on.
A pang of sadness crept up in my mind when I realized just how much I hated being away from Joe.
I always hated being away from Joe for extended periods, but pregnancy hadn't made that any better.
Before I get could too lost in my thoughts, my phone started vibrating on the coffee table.
My heart warmed when I picked up the phone and saw it was Joe calling.
“Hey, babe.” - you
“Hey, Mama. I'm almost home.” - Joe
“Okay… good.” - you
“Good? Everything okay?” - Joe
“Yeah, I just miss you a lot.” - you
“I only went to go work out, baby.” - Joe laughed
“I know, but I don't like being away from you. Neither does your daughter.” - you
Joe felt his heart flutter at that, his daughter. He was so ready to be a girl dad.
“I’ll cuddle with you both when I get home.” - Joe
“Sounds perfect. I'll see you soon, Daddy.” - you
There’s a few seconds of silence until Joe clears his throat and speaks up. I hadn't ever called Joe that, but I still didn't mean it sexually.
“What did you call me?” - Joe
“Daddy, you know, because we were talking about the baby and you're her daddy.” - you
Joe cleared his throat yet again, and when he began talking, I didn't miss how his voice had dropped an octave.
“Oh. I thought you meant it in another way. You've just never called me that unless you were referring to me for the twins.” - Joe
“You liked it, didn't you?” - you
The grin in my voice was evident, and Joe’s dirty chuckle sent a sizzle of heat down my spine.
“Yeah. I’ll admit that I did. Damn, your hormones have been raging lately.” - Joe
“You don't help, Mr. Sexy.” - you
“And you are testing my control, Mrs. Sexy.” - Joe
We continued going back and forth till Joe announced that he was turning onto our road. After quick I love you’s we hung up.
——
A minute later, Joe walked into the house with a big grin on his face.
“There’s my girl.” - Joe
“Hey, Joey.” - you
Joe went to climb onto the couch next to me, but I quickly stopped him.
“What?” - Joe
“Did you shower at the gym?” - you
“Yes, ma’am.” - Joe
“Okay, continue.” - you
He laughed before plopping down next to me and propping his feet up on the ottoman. I cuddled into Joe’s chest, and he snaked one of his hands under his my sweatshirt to put a big hand on my bump.
“Where are the boys?” - Joe
“They’ve been playing in the playroom. I just checked on them, and they were playing with their Hot Wheels.” - you
“Imma be right back.” - Joe
Joe pressed a kiss to my temple before getting up and heading to the boys' playroom.
A smile found its way onto my face when I heard Tyson and Miles cheering for their dad’s arrival home.
Joe would be gone for a few more minutes, and during that period, I realized Joe was due for another prank…
——
It was later that evening. Miles and Tyson were asleep, and I was in the kitchen, cleaning the rest of the kitchen up from dinner.
Joe was laying on the couch, waiting for me to come cuddle with him when I was done. Let the prank begin.
“Baby, come here.” - you
I heard the floorboards creak and soon, Joe’s tall frame was making an appearance beside me.
“What’s up?” - Joe
Setting my phone up on the counter, Joe side-eyed me when he saw that TikTok was pulled up.
“Why are you videoing?” - Joe
“It’s just an easy TikTok trend.” - you
“K.” - Joe mumbled
I clicked play on the video and Joe instinctively moved closer to me to where his body was pressed against mine.
“Hey, loves! There's a trend going around where you ask your boyfriend to touch his favorite parts of you, so I'm gonna do it with mine.” - you smiled
When I stepped to face Joe, he had a playful smile on his face and an eyebrow raised.
“What?” - you laughed
“I’m not your boyfriend.” - Joe
“Huh?” - you
“You called me your boyfriend. I'm not your boyfriend.” - Joe
I stared at him, trying to act dumbfounded, so Joe forged ahead.
“If I remember correctly, I put a pretty hefty ring on your finger and said vows to you in front of a hundred people. I haven't been just your boyfriend since January 30th, 2021. So… if you have a boyfriend, it isn't me, gotta be another man.” - Joe
“Joe…” - you laughed
“So who's your boyfriend?” - Joe
“I don't have one, it was a prank.” - you
“Yeah, that's what I thought, wifey.” - Joe grinned
“Calm down, hubby.” - you
————————————————————————-
Authors note: Next fic at 7:45
Request for this fic;
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267 notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 1 year
Note
Could you please do a ruby/baby leclerc imagine where she's a bit older and Charles being the overprotective dad, tells her she can't wear that and she has to change, and they fall out and then make up again
teen angst | charles leclerc
give my girl ruby a break, charles!! and for this, ruby is aged up to 18 and mathéo is 14 so double the teen angst for charles 😳 also sorry charles, you’re sticking with ferrari in this one until idk
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Charles was looking for his family. He had even called Y/n, but she didn’t answer. He was getting frustrated, but all his worries left when he saw his wife of many years walk into the Ferrari garage with their two kids by her side. Even after all this time, he felt like a teenager in love with her.
“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” Charles teased, giving his wife a kiss on the lips to greet her.
“I would never.” Y/n smiled at her husband. “We’re going to go see Pierre for a bit before the race begins. Ruby wants to wish him good luck.”
“Where is my good luck— wait, what are you wearing, Ruby Jules?” Charles looked at his daughter’s outfit. She had a black skirt and a cropped shirt.
“I found it in maman’s closet. She said she wore it on a first date.” Ruby said.
“No, I remember what she wore on our first date and it wasn’t that. We went to her favorite restaurant and she wore a black dress.” Charles confirmed.
“I said she wore it for a first date, papa, i didn’t mean yours.” Ruby teased and kissed her father’s cheek. “Bye, I’m going to see uncle Pierre. Good luck, old man.” Then she left in search of the Frenchman.
“Can I go see uncle Daniel?” Mathéo eagerly asked.
“In a second, baby. Your papa looks like he’s about to faint. What’s wrong, Charles?” Y/n asked.
“Y/n, did you not tell her to change?” Charles sighed. “I have a jacket in my drivers room, let me go get it.”
Before Charles could leave, Y/n stopped him. “Charles, it’s hot today and you’re going to make her wear a jacket? She looks nice.”
“I think she still looks ugly.” Mathéo added.
“Théo, what did i tell you about making fun of your sister?”
“She’s not here so it doesn’t count!”
Charles shook his head. “What if I give her a Ferrari shirt? I think I have one—“
“No one is changing. Charles, just accept that our little girl is growing up and her style is changing. She’s not going to wear shirts with rainbows on them anymore.” Y/n tried to get her husband to understand, but he still wasn’t convinced.
“I’m still not happy about it.” He mumbled.
“I know.”
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As the Monaco national anthem played while Charles stood on the podium, he kept a close eye on his little girl, even if she was considered an adult in most countries. Ruby could tell he was mad about the outfit, but she didn’t see any problem with it. If her mother wore it years ago, why couldn’t she?
“I’ll be in dad’s driver’s room. Maybe he can actually celebrate without babysitting me from the podium.” Ruby rolled her eyes. She kissed her mother’s cheek and excused herself from the people around her.
Charles’ eyes still followed her until she was out of sight. He then mumbled a ‘what?’ to his wife wondering why Ruby had left even though the ceremony wasn’t done yet. His wife just shook her head.
Shit he thought to himself.
After the ceremony, he only had one person on his mind. His Ruby Jules.
“Go talk to her, she’s upset. She’s in your drivers room. Y/n said.
“Now can we go see uncle Daniel?” Mathéo asked for the millionth time.
Charles made his way to his drivers room, occasionally thanking people who congratulated him on his win. When he stood infront of the door to his room, he knocked them waited a couple seconds.
“Mon chéri? It’s papa. Can I come in?”
“It’s your room, dad.” Ruby said softly.
Charles turned the doorknob and opened the door. He found Ruby seated on the tiny sofa on her phone. “I saw you left before the could spray you with the champagne.” He tried to lighten up the mood.
“I’ve seen you do it many times.” Ruby mumbled.
Charles stayed silent for a bit since he didn’t really know how to even speak to her without making her upset. He didn’t remember himself being this difficult to talk to when he was a teen, or was he? He was definitely going to ask him mother about it later.
“I know you don’t like my outfit. But I like it and maman likes it too. These are hers after all.” Ruby spoke, breaking the silence between them.
“Your maman and I had a talk and I have to accept that you’re growing up. But you’re my Ruby Jules, my little girl. You know when you were small, you would always ask for ice cream at every race. . . Do you still want to get ice cream?” Charles asked the teen.
Ruby cracked a smile. Of course she remembered always asking for ice cream. That was her thing. “I do. But are you really mad about my outfit?”
“Furious? No, but you are growing up and you’re not going to wear rainbow shirts or princess fairy dresses anymore so if you like to dress like this then I say you look pretty.” Charles nodded.
“Princess fairy dresses,” Ruby chuckled. “For my nineteenth birthday, I say we bring back the princess fairy theme. I miss it.”
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
Note
hii, hope im not bothering uu!!
my brain is obsessed with ur daddy gojo ficsss!! 🤭🤭 just a thought though. what if gojo brought his kid to work since reader couldnt hire a babysitter and had work to do!! 😱😱 kid can be a baby or like, 7-10?? or something? (idrc i jus need to feed my head with more dad gojo fics 😔😔, kid can be a girl or boy!!) hopee u have a nice dayyy!! ❤❤
missing – gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I wrote the kid being around 5 or 6 max, I think?? hope you like this as well! <3
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you are standing at the door, checking over everything with your husband, "satoru, you got the toys?"
like the proud and confident dad he is, he replies with ease, "yep."
"the snacks?"
“of course,” he grins, pulling up the bag of snacks and toys to show you.
but you’re still stressing, "what about—“
"wifey, relax!” he starts rubbing your shoulders soothingly; “I got everything she needs. you have nothing to worry about,” he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.
"last time you said that, you teleported with d/n to the maldives."
he laughs loudly, before pulling you into a big hug, "aww, babe; I said I am sorry,” he is swaying the both of you, “you know I wanted you to be with us."
"that's not the point!"
"oh wowie, look at the time!” he looks at his fake watch and starts gently pushing you towards the car, “you’re gonna be late sweetheart."
"oh god!" you gasp, quickly giving satoru his goodbye kiss, and running to your daughter to give her own goodbye peck on the cheek as well, “I will miss you; take care of dada, okay?”
“aren’t I the one who is supposed to do that taking care part?!”
“bye ‘toru; bye d/n! love you!”
“love you too!” they both reply in unison before looking each other in the eye. satoru grins at her, “do you want to see uncle nanami?”
“nanamin!” she squeals then runs to god knows where.
soon, they finally get to jujutsu tech.
it took longer than usual because the little missy ran off and decided to play hide and seek. in addition to that, since the madlives incident, you banned satoru from teleporting with d/n because it gets her really dizzy and she starts puking.
so like the common people, he takes a car and has to wait till they arrive there. he wants to grumble, but, at least, his princess is there to play with him and make conversations.
they are finally in class when nobara coos, crouching down in front of d/n, “oh, you’re so cute!”
the little girl grins, “thank you!”
“also, I love your dress!”
“oh; thank you!” d/n gasps and starts twirling around, “mommy picked it for me! It’s so pretty, right?” nobara nods eagerly at her and it makes d/n giggle.
d/n pauses for a moment, a pout on her face and eyes get teary, and looks at satoru, “mommy…”
satoru pats her head, “we will see her soon; don’t worry.”
“wow; I am surprised you’re acting like a proper dad,” megumi comments, waving at d/n who grins back at him.
swiftly, yuuji defends his teacher’s pride, “hey! sensei is a great dad!”
d/n starts swinging her arms around and running in place like she is preparing for something. soon. it is revealed what she is waiting for. the door opens and she launches herself at the new guest, “nanamin!”
nanami effortlessly catches her and secures his hold on her, “d/n, that was dangerous; what if you got hurt?”
she looks down with yet another pout, “I know…’am sorry. just missed you.”
nanami sighs before patting her head, “it’s alright,” a tiny smile creeps up, “are you having fun so far?”
she nods happily and starts rambling about how cool nobara is or how much fun yuuji is to be around. meanwhile, satoru is standing in a corner with his arms crossed and grumbling, “that’s my daughter, you know.”
“imagine losing your daughter’s affection to someone else,” megumi pops up from behind satoru.
he retorts with no hesitation, “imagine not having a father.”
satoru looks petrified at megumi who is so very offended. satoru starts mini-panicking, “wait—megumi, I was kidding!”
“divine dogs.”
satoru shrieks and d/n squeals, pointing at him, “minmin, daddy’s playing with ‘gumi’s dogs!”
nanami averts his attention to gojo playing (read: being attacked). he nods slowly at the suffering man, “he is having so much fun; isn’t he?”
 “yay!” she throws her arms in the air.
nobara snaps a picture of d/n, “she’s adorable!”
yuuji sobs beside her, “I know right?!”
that was at the beginning of the day, but, right now, satoru has to attend a meeting for some reason with the higher-ups, including yaga. though, it hardly counts as a proper one considering that satoru laid out d/n toys so she can play with him.
“daddy, you’re not supposed to give him the green shirt; he needs the blue one.”
satoru quickly obeys, “yes ma’am,” and he changes the doll into his fabulous blue outfit. d/n giggles and holds his face to kiss his cheek.
one of the higher-ups clears his throat, “refrain from such disrespectful behavior during the meeting, gojo.”
satoru smiles humorlessly at the elder, “last time I checked, my daughter’s happiness is a lot more important than the nonsense you spout every single time.”
d/n carefully makes her way down the table and pulls on satoru’s pants, “daddy, toilet, please.”
“this was a fun meeting!” he beams, collecting d/n’s toys in her bag, “I have more urgent matters to attend to so adieu!” he mock bows, before bending to pick his daughter up, “let’s go princess.”
the door closes after satoru and d/n leave, and everyone looks at yaga. he takes a deep breath, “listen, that's his daughter. asking him not to pamper her is like asking a cat to let go of her kittens. you will get bit.”
time passes and satoru is chilling with d/n in the common room. she is laying on his lap and curled around herself. she groggily looks up to him, “when are we going to see mommy?”
he starts stroking her hair, “soon; I promise,” he takes out a candid picture he took of you and hands it to her, “how about you take this until we go back home and see mommy?”
she nods slowly and hugs the photo close. satoru smiles softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. not much after, d/n falls asleep with your photo secure in her hold.
it makes satoru chuckle. it reminds him of how he can never sleep without you either.
that’s why when he goes on mission, he scrolls endlessly through your photos until sleep takes over him or he listens to any voice message you sent. it helps him with the dilemma of missing you, and he is glad it helps his daughter the same way.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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lovelytsunoda · 7 months
Text
the man with the hex // liam lawson
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summary: he stayed to hand out candy but actually just wanted to make out. unfortunately, hungry kids won’t wait to ring the doorbell.
pairing: liam lawson x female! reader
warnings: allusions to sex, liam is a horny teenager, very suggestive but no smut, reader gets baby fever real fast and liam has a dirty mouth. I am incapable of writing anything wholesome about this man, apparently.
"jesus fuck!"
"y/n y/m/n y/l/n, watch your language!" her mother shouted from the kitchen
next to her on the couch, liam snickered, pulling her closer. guillermo del toro's 'cabinet of curiosities' was playing on the screen, and y/n had been jumpy throughout the whole episode.
y/n was a gentle soul. she preferred cozy mysteries, and humorous action thrillers as opposed to straight up horror. sure, the pillars of the slasher genre were wonderful films (she's first in line to see any new 'scream' movie), but she did not do well when she was genuinely scared.
"sorry, mom!" she shouted, resting her head against liam's shoulder. "liam has bad taste in movies."
"it's one episode!" the kiwi laughed. "i'm sorry, you can pick the next movie."
y/n rolled her eyes, getting up from the couch to hug her parents goodbye. she and liam had agreed to stay in that night, allowing her parents to go to an annual charity event thrown by one of her fathers friends. her sister was at a party, and as someone who had a quiet, peaceful life and wasn’t always invited to things, y/n was extended a chance to stay at home.
of course, learning that they would have the house to themselves, liam was all too quick to tag along, for less than wholesome reasons. while y/n had planned a couple's movie night, complete with matching hotel transylvania costumes and a stack of scooby doo movies, wheras liam had planned to get her to scream in more ways than one.
y/n got up from the couch, her nylon-clad feet skidding across the hardwood as she went to hug her parents. "bye guys, i'll see you in the morning."
"have a great time, mr. and mrs. (your last intital)!" liam shouted
"no funny business with my daughter, lawson. and no drinking." her father scolded, pointing his finger towards his daughter's boyfriend.
"dad! we're adults, i think we can handle ourselves." she laughed, giving her father a hug before her parents went out the front door.
she closed the door behind them, leaving it unlocked and the jack-o-lantern on the front porch turned on before backtracking to the kitchen and refilling the candy dish she and liam had been snacking from.
"you'll have to keep an ear out for the front door, but other than that, do you want to put beetlejuice on when this is over?" she suggested, bringing the candy bowl back over to the couch and curling into her boyfriend.
"i dunno, your parents are gone, i kind of hand something else on my mind." liam grinned, one hand trailing up her thigh.
"oh yeah?" she purred, maneuvering herself into liam's lap, poking his nose before kissing him softly, her blue lipstick smearing against his skin.
liam cupped her face with his free hand, his other arm going around her waist to pull her closer. she hummed contentedly as she nestled her body into his, taking his top lip in between her own.
“your lipstick tastes good.” liam remarked, lips ringed in the dark blue cosmetic. “like blue raspberry.”
“you’re such a dork.” she giggled, brushing an errant blonde hair out of his face before kissing her lover again.
liam moaned into it, feeling himself grow harder every time that her thigh brushed over his crotch. she was driving him wild, the end of cabinets of curiosities forgotten as they made out like teenagers.
the doorbell rang, startling them both as they jolted on the couch. y/n pulled away from liam, wiping the smudged gloss from her swollen lips before getting off the couch and reaching for the bowl of cadbury chocolates across from her.
“trick or treat!”
there were three kids standing in the doorstep, each dressed as a different superhero as they held pillowcases out in front of them as she dropped handfuls of pocket sized chocolates into the bags.
“you kids have a great night.” she chirped, waving not just to the kids, but to the parents waiting on the sidewalk before slipping back into the house.
she left the plastic candy dish on the front bench, a grin on her face as she went back to the living room. liam hadn’t mailed from the couch, one hand over his eyes and the other clutching a throw pillow over his crotch.
“seriously, liam?” she laughed, reaching for the tv remote. “come on, we have to be aware of our surroundings. little kids are going to be knocking on the door all night.”
liam groaned. “sounds like hell to me, babe.”
she shook her head, grinning as she used the remote to navigate over to the amazon icon to rent ‘beetlejuice.” she was just about to hit rent when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.
“liam!” she shouted, giggling as he nuzzled his cold nose into the tender flesh of her neck. “you know you’re just gonna get interrupted again, right?”
“don’t care.” he hummed, pressing kisses up and down her throat. “babe, we finally have the house to ourselves and I am so fucking horny for you right now.”
she giggled, extracting herself from liam’s hold to teasingly bend down near the coffee table, placing the realtor back on the glass top. at the sight of her skirt riding up over her orange and black nylon tights, the lacy hem of her panties visible through the nylon as she bent over, the kiwi could hardly contain himself.
especially when there was another ring of the doorbell.
this time, liam offered to get the door, almost dropping the candy bowl as he tried to get the door open, shaking hands unable to grasp the doorknob as be tried to get his breathing under control.
“woah, are you liam lawson?” one of the kids shouted, his voice echoing through the street. “I watched you on tv last week!”
despite himself, liam laughed. “right on, kiddo!” he held his fist out for a fist bump, kneeling to the kids level. “hang on just a second and I’ll get my girlfriend out here to take a picture of the two of us, yeah?”
“you seem cheerful for a man that didn’t want to hand out candy.” y/n chuckled from the doorway. “come on then, pass me his iPod touch or whatever and I’ll get the best fan pics he’s ever seen.”
the kids eyes lit up as liam moved to crouch next to him, matching his height almost exactly as y/n snapped a few pictures.
“your girlfriend is really pretty.” the kid said, giddy as he took his iPod back. “are you guys going to get married?”
liam laughed heartily, tactfully avoiding the question as he asked the kid what his favourite part of the race in qatar had been, dropping a handful of cadbury chocolates into the mummy shaped bucket.
once the kid was gone and the door was closed, he wasted no time in pulling y/n close and sliding his hands up her dress.
“someone’s eager. if anyone should be exited after watching you interact with kids, it should be me.” she giggled, kissing his cheek.
her lipstick was dry now, and liam found himself slightly disappointed that it didn’t leave a mark.
liam raised an eyebrow. “oh, yeah? so in addition to making you scream my name tonight, should I fill you up with my cum? start practicing for when it’s time to get you pregnant?”
she nodded eagerly, wishing for nothing more than liam pressing her up against the foyer wall and taking what he wanted. what they both wanted.
“fuck.” liam breathed, his breath warm on her skin. “you’re really hot when you have baby fever, you know that? and that kid wasn’t even a baby, he was like five.”
“shut up and kiss me, lawson.”
but just as liam leaned in, the fucking doorbell rang.
he cursed, throwing his head back in a groan as y/n gave him a sympathetic smile. she picked up the candy bucket, dutifully opening the front door and greeting the horde of kids who had chased each other up the driveway and around liams bmw.
while her back was turned, distracted by handing out candy, liam reached his breaking point, scrambling to find a piece of paper and a pen.
please take one handful each, and ring the doorbell if bowl is empty. we are home but enjoying a scary movie night and my girlfriend is jumpy :)
when y/n turned away, closing the door behind her, liam was quick to grab the bowl, whisking it away to the kitchen and ignoring his girlfriends confused look as he practically overfilled the bowl, taking on the sign and leaving it on the cast iron bench outside the house.
“now, where were we?” he grinned, pulling her in for a kiss. she broke out into a smile, knowing exactly why liam had done what he did. “that bowl is almost full, it will keep the kids occupied for a very long time.”
“what if someone takes the whole bowl? what then?” she giggled, playfully teasing her lover, hands gently rubbing at his shoulder blades.
“then I’ll buy your mom a new one.” he decided, paying the matter very little attention as he swept his girlfriend off her feet, carrying her bridal style towards the stairs. “now, my fair maiden, you bedroom awaits.”
TAGS
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @httpiastri @clemswrld @love4lando @scuderiamh @lorarri @cartierre @silverstonesainz @arshiyuh @twinkodium
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thevirtualvalentine · 7 months
Text
TAPE THREE : PASSENGER PRINCESS !
Starring … ‘Red Hair’ Shanks 📸
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SET SCRIPT : “Hey Babbyyyy congrats on 100! For your lovely followers event could I request afab reader with Dads best friend Shanks n some sprinkles of corruption :3 I love youuu bae mwah 😮‍💨🤍”
MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, AGE GAP, use of the title “daddy”, corruption kink, underlying breeding kink (if you squint), Shanks mysteriously has 2 arms, forced orgasm, you’re Mihawks daughter, afab!femme reader.
DIRECTORS CUT : For one of my favorite people on this app @stargirldelight <33 so sorry this took me forever to get to. Apologies, Shanks brings out an unprecedented daddy kink in me I didn’t know I had …
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Moving is already stressful enough, add the fact that your dad can’t seem to help you out this weekend and voila; you’re in a pinch. He’s typically off on some sort of exploit around the world anyways, a stoic mystery of sorts. But, your dad did suggest that he come help you move into your new apartment.
Which is fine and all, but you’re not sure how you’re gonna last the already tumultuous move in with Shanks around. He’s your dads best friend, or enemy, you’re honestly not quite sure.
Ever since you were a teen you admired shanks, his warm fuzzy smile, how stern he got when he was mad, and that damn signature red hair of his that you can always pick out from a crowd. You expected to grow out of it as you got older, but you could never quite kick the habit. His voice smooth like honey when he’d stumble in with your father drunk, or when he said bye after helping you move in for college. He’s really your fantasy come true, a handsome man with unmistakable charm that makes you smile even on days you don’t have reason to.
You’re older now, you should be able to handle this. But a man like him ages akin to fine wine, only becoming more and more attractive as the years gain on him. Granted, there was an age gap between you; which is what typically kept your lewd thoughts of him in check.
He’d drive this red dodge charger every time he picked you up when your dad couldn’t, like now. Red hair flowing in his face as you coasted down the highway. He smiles and asks if the boys your age were treating you right while his fingers dance along your shoulders. “Pft, I wish,” you aimlessly laughed, noting that exactly what you desired in a man was right next to you.
“Whaaaat? Cmon’ a pretty girl like you? Really?” He sounded genuinely disturbed by this confession of yours. “You deserve better sweetheart.” His eyes flickering back to the road as you’re a few hours out from your new town.
“I really don’t go out much y’know, and it’s not like I have anything to offer them,” your heard turns as you mumble into your fist. Embarrassed to let the older gentleman know just how little play you get. The compliment he gave you flies right over your head as you try to mask the growing ache for Shanks in your heart (and pussy). He’s always been sweet like this to you, patient and gentle as he places a reassuring hand on your knee. You think nothing of it.
“I don’t believe it, they don’t know what they’re missing. I woulda been all ov-” clearing his throat before continuing, “maybe they’re just not what you need.” He turns the music down as the conversation begins to flow more naturally, tension sparking like electricity in the air as he pushes further and further.
“Oh? And what do I need.” You flash him that look of mischief, one that was saved for when you’d ask him to bail you out of punishment with your dad.
“Someone who could treat you how you deserve, a real man and not some boy.” He can’t control the possessive tone that exits his mouth, it’s just unbelievable to him. After all these years and all those meaningless break ups you’d go through, it was him whose arms you’d cry into. Too drunk off cheap liquor with the sweet but sickly scent of vodka hanging off your breath. But of course, he’d listen. Always the patient type.
“And do I know a man like that? Sounds like you wanna be that guy Shanks,” it was only a joke. Your voice airy as you moved your hair out of your lipgloss. Highway wind was never kind to you.
“Don’t play with me,” and he’s back to serious. The coolness of his words sends a shiver up your spine.
“What if I meant it, hm? What if I wanted you to show me?” Your eyes now burning holes in the sides of his face, his jaw clenches as he battles with his own morality.
“You don’t think I’m a little too old for you?” He sends a glance your way, one that trails from your low cut tank top to the supple skin of your thighs before he’s back to gripping the gear shift.
“Said it yourself, I need a real man,” your knees turn to face him as you let your voice purrr. Mihawk would kill him if he found out about this, but he’s never truly been afraid of the man anyways. Especially not when his daughter is as pretty as you, there’s just so much you don’t know, so much he could show you. It drives him wild.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Eyes straight on the road, but the unmistaken waiver in his voice let’s you know he just needs one final shove before he tumbles down like dominos.
“I’m asking for you Shanks,” you plant a sweet kiss to his cheek; just how you used to when he’d leave town for months on end and you didn’t know when you’d see him again.
For once it’s his turn to be flustered, if he wasn’t so concerned about keeping both eyes on the road he’d grab you himself. “Behave little girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
You squirm in your seat, the problem is you know exactly what you’re getting into. It’s finally what you’ve wanted for years. For the object of desire in his mind to be aimed at you, for your affections to be reciprocated, to be with him instead of being viewed as his best friends daughter.
You’ve driven to your new town before so you’re aware that wherever he’s driving isn’t the right way, “Shanks?”
“What? Thought I was supposed to show you.” A light chuckle leaves him as you’re parked in the back corner of a parking lot, headlights turned off.
“Come here hun,” he pushes his seat back urging you to crawl over to him. It feels so right to be held by him, yet so wrong at the same time it makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. The lack of space pushing you closer to him as his steady breathing makes you feel safer.
“Be gentle Shanks, I’ve only done it one time before.” At that his jaw clenches. A cute thing like you only getting fucked once? It almost makes his blood boil, yet it turns sick when he realizes all he can teach you right here and now. How tight your cunt will grip him as he makes you bounce up and down on him. Oh, Mihawk will kill him indeed; that is if he ever finds out about how he’s stretching out your pussy.
His hands feel so warm on you, rubbing and groping at your skin while you get comfortable. All the attention from him at once makes your head spin, growing needier to get on with it already. “You don’t want it like that though, do you?” It’s barely above a whisper, a nasty vile secret that he somehow knows. All you can do is whimper as he ravages your neck in rough kisses, lips lingering over your pulse points. His years of experience showing as he makes you writhe.
“You want it rough don’t you, t’s ok doll you can tell daddy the truth.” He grins at your hardy whine, swallowing it down in a kiss that devours you from the inside out. His tongue invades your mouth, overpowering yours.
He’s perfect, exactly how you imagined he’d be. Strong arms guiding you further up his lap, helping you wrap your arms around the base of his neck. “Shanks .. more please—” your face hot as you plead for more of him. Feeling how stiff he is makes pride swell within you, was that really your doing? All you’ve done is kiss him, but he groans each time you lean further into his touch.
He leaves pepper kisses on your face and eyelashes, pulling back to look for any doubt on your complexion. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, tugging on one of your curls before wrapping it around his finger. Too intimate, far too intimate for the debauchery he’s about to lay on you.
“Spread those pretty legs wider f’me, there you go,” his phrasing patient as his knees open wider beneath you. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance while you wait in anticipation for anything… “where do you want me to touch you baby,” his eyes meet yours, “here?” His middle and index finger graze the thin cloth of your shorts.
You nod your head profusely, looking down at the space between you with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Shanks snakes his fingers within your walls, teasing the entrance lightly while using your slick to slide in and out slowly. “Remember, breathe,” the slight sting keeps your hold on him firm as you try to adjust. In and out, rhythmically, the pads of his fingers glide along your plush walls.
Your airy chants of his name fill the darkening small space of his cramped car. Hips beginning to bounce on his hand, desperation creeping in with each drag of his fingertips inside you. “Look at you, suckin my fingers in. Almost like you don’t wanna let them go,” he marvels at you, moving your shorts out of the way so he has a clearer view of your insatiable pussy.
“S’creamy, you been thinking about me?” Bold for him to say, he acts like he’s not knuckle deep inside you with reckless abandon for his position in all this. You’re oozing down his wrist as his fingers begin to scissor back n forth.
“Kiss me Shanks,” you ask.
“Of course baby,” he replies.
It’s always him who spoils you, giving you what you ask for. How could he deny you of such a sweet request? The squelch of your wetness grows while a tight knot tries to unravel itself within you.
“Not yet, can you wait for daddy just a lil more?” He can feel that too? Embarrassment hot on your face while your hips grind against his palm.
It’s indecent how sexy he is, toned chest peaking through his shirt, tongue slightly sticking out as he preps you for his fat length, and his deep even voice that praises every movement of your body.
His entry inside you is smooth, almost like he was meant to fit you perfectly. “Oh my god Shanks f-fuck wait—” Your head is spinning, you can feel his dick twitch with each convulse of your own walls.
He doesn’t mind that you’re clutching onto him hard enough to draw blood, no not at all, honestly it’s making him want to burry himself deeper. “Shhh baby, I got you. I got you, just breathe.” Not yet though, he can’t hurt you (too bad). Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but he’s quick to wipe them with his thumb. Kissing your collarbones as if to apologize for the molding his cock does to your needy warmth.
The pain subdues, giving way to a hunger you can’t quite describe; but quiet mouths don’t get fed. “Gimmie more Daddy, please,” truthfully the name slipped out, but the damage was done as it left a shiver to creep up the red heads spine.
Well, how could he say no to that? His hands move from your waist down, molding the skin of your ass as he pleases while his hips experimentally shift up and down. When he hears you sigh in pleasure he knows he’s found the right angle. “Better hold on, gonna give it to you just how you want it love.” It’s in how he reassures you that he’ll take care of you that allows you to let go, letting this be your reality instead of some sick sex dream.
His strength is unreal, he’s lifting you with no problem and then pushing you down again and again. It feels like he’s impaling you, knocking your breath out with each rise and fall of your oozing cunt. “Mhm, fuckkk. Been thinking about this for a long time.” The space between you both lessens as the heat rises, giving way to an erotic composition of pleasure.
Any composure you had flies out the window as you’re left dumb and drooling as the only thing that can leave your mouth is praises of his name. Incoherent babbling about how you never want it to stop, losing yourself in the heat of his body. “So slutty baby, what would your dad think, huh?” He lets his palm rest against your stomach as you continue to bounce. Eyeing where his own outline is visible within you.
“Nasty girl, felt the way you got tighter around me. You want him to know? Know that it’s me fuckin’ his pretty daughter in my car.” His words alone are enough to make that tight band snap instantly with little buildup, robbing you of your ability to think as you cry out meek thank you’s to Shanks. He pulls you back by the hair, watching the way your face contorts as you cream around him; squeezing his cock like a vice.
The flutter of your walls spurs him on, picking up an animalistic pace as you’re used to bring him his own high. Sweat making his hair stick to his forehead as your vision focuses back in. “Think you can do it again? I know you can love.”
You’re unsure what he means but when you feel his thumb start to circle at your clit you’re a goner. The intensity of your last climax causes you to squirm as he tries to rip another out of you. “Stop fuckin running.” When Shanks wants something, he always gets it. That’s the rule. You are no exception.
He can feel his balls tensing at the obscene squelch each thrust into your cunt provides him, he knows he’ll have to wash these seats later; but for now he’s gonna dump his load in his best friends hot daughter.
“Let go.” A harsh drag of his thumb has you coming undone yet again, spurring Shank’s own orgasm where he drags you down flush against him. No where to run as his hot seed fills you to the brim. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff baby.”
You’re left convulsing as you try to catch your breath, slumping against his chest like a noodle. “Di.. dirty old bastard,” you weakly protest, slamming your fist into his chest.
“And yet you still wanna fuck this dirty old bastard,” he says with a laugh, peeling you off his chest to kiss you with nothing but teeth. He suckles on your tongue, making you whimper as he’s still inside you. “That’s what I thought,” he says satisfied.
Maybe he’ll have to be like Mihawk, taking out of town trips. However, he knows exactly where he’ll be going. Right where you are.
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