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papurgaatika · 2 months

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Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything.

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car.

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.”

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.”

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words.

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly.

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel.

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you.

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face.

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms.

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy,

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house.

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway.

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes.

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father.

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that.

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?”

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass.

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face.

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home.

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard.

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed.

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties.

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute.

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me”

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes, “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again.

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties.

“but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway.

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight.

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again.

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?”

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit.

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want.

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face.

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry”

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis.

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much.

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words.

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes.

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair.

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying.

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips.

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

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crispy-armpit · 1 year

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴏᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(۶ૈ ᵒ _ᵒ)۶ૈ=͟͟͞͞ 🏈

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘺, 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘮. 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭.

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 & 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 741 words

⭒ a/n: thank you all so much for the support and appreciation!!! i never expected my story to be so well loved :') i will be uploading yan!rockstar pt.2, yan!sea god, and a masterlist after this one! <3 (god i hate jocks)

will you venture down this path?

pop music blasts throughout the forest, bottles of discarded alcohol litter the ground, and a hundred or so young adults looking to mess up their lives dance around the large bonfire. mid-semester exams have just ended and you and your friends have decided to go to Jean Marley's party.

you are now gathered around a smaller campfire with your friends, sharing stories and laughing alongside them. Jean, the star of the party, suddenly speaks up, "who's up for a game?" a collection of voices yell out their own versions of an agreement.

"alright, let's play... truth or dare!"

"i'm pretty sure this is how horror movies start, yeah?" someone whispers into your ear.

you turn to the direction of the whisper, eyes mere centimetres away from Liam's own hazel ones. a small giggle leaves your lips as you take a sip from your cup, "if this was a horror movie, you'd definitely be the killer." Liam gasps dramatically and clenches his dark varsity jacket where his heart would be.

"you'd suspect me?! agh, how could you—"

"oh, come on! don't you think that'd be a great plot? dumb jock— who's not actually dumb— hunts down all his friends, and seemingly has no reason to do so. why would he? he's rich, popular, and has everything he could ever ask for! it's the perfect plot twist."

"well, I could think of one reason why..."

"oh? and that is?"

he moves in closer, and you could smell the faded scent of his expensive cologne mixed with sweat. his sharp eyes droop ever so slightly as if he was now looking down at your lips.

"he was madly in love with the final girl. so much, he'd murder everyone else just to keep them to himself."

"wha—"

you are interrupted by Jean's voice, "y/n! truth or dare?" confusion hits you until you see the bottle has landed on you. oh.

"dare."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Liam couldn't fucking believe you. why would you risk your life for a stupid dare?!

there you were, undressing yourself to prepare to jump off the cliff and into the lake. and here he was, watching with the others from a distance. he'd run over to you right now if he wasn't so... breathless.

phones were out, on-lookers recording this moment. you were barely dressed, figure so captivating you looked like a forest nymph dancing through the currents, the round moonlight created a silhouette of your body that further proved his comparison.

if anyone spreads those pictures of you, he's going to kill them.

in that moment, he felt his soul return to the body of his younger self on the first day of high school— he was trying out for the football team, destroying all the other prepubescent boys with no remorse. tryouts had ended and he was now an official member, that's when he first saw you.

you were on the field with your friends. they'd laid out a small picnic mat with books scattered all over them while you danced to the rhythm of a lana del rey song blaring through your phone speakers.

suddenly he knew— he knew all his prayers for a greater purpose in life were answered, you. the lyrics to the love songs his parents danced to in the garage finally made sense.

the mellow flashback was cut short by the sound of a loud splash in the water. you jumped.

panic settles in and he doesn't think before jumping into the lake with you. people cheer on as they take this as a sign to join in the water.

his biceps cling onto your body as he pulls the both of you to the surface. you wipe away any hair and water on your face and smile up at him. he returns your smile and you both swim to the land.

on land, his calloused hands never seem to retract from your waist. it settles itself on the cold, wet surface of your shirt. you can feel the heat radiating off his hands and an electric tingle in your spine.

people gather around your wet bodies and offer you both towels. it could be adrenaline, but you swear you could feel his grip tighten a little too much when others approach you.

Liam continues to stay by your side all through the night. even during the car ride home, his palms never leave your thigh.

guess you'll have a guard dog for a while.

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bbydoll18xx · 3 days

Text

Keep the Edits Cordial

A tik tok edit of two best friends coaxes out admissions of feelings (and orgasms)

Paige Bueckers x reader

word count: 3.2k

themes: mutual pining (LOML), friends to lovers, smut!!

warnings: i like using the word ‘fuck’, 18+

Thanks for the love on my first post! This is my first attempt at writing smut, so bear with me. I have a few more ideas if y'all are interested!

Despite not being on the uconn’s women's basketball team, or having any shred of athletic ability, you had befriended Paige Bueckers, and her teammates, as an extension, had adopted you with open arms. So you weren't out of place sitting in the apartment of Paige and several of her teammates while she was in class.

“Oh fuck, shit, shit, shit,” you hear KK Arnold swear over on the couch across from where you were sitting, attempting to get some homework done.

A sensual R&B song plays from her phone several times, as her eyes nearly pop out of her head while she watches.

You look up, mildly annoyed at the noise, but you were used to KK’s antics and her overdramatics.

“What the hell is the issue?” you ask.

“Umm…nothing,” she drawls. “Be right back, girly boo. Don’t move.” She runs into Azzi’s room, where Azzi and Caroline were attempting to also be productive.

That was damn near impossible when KK was around.

Your interest peaks as you hear the same music play from KK’s phone again several times over and the giggles and gasps of the three girls fill the bedroom.

“Paige is gonna flip if she sees this,” Azzi says matter-of-factly, as you strain to hear the full conversation.

‘What would make Paige flip?’ you wonder.

“I gotta show this to Ice!” You hear KK exclaim a little too loudly, causing the other two girls to shush her.

KK runs back into the main living space of the apartment where you were sitting. She picks up her stuff with a shit-eating grin before waving to you and rushing out the door.

She was so fucking weird.

Giving up on the essay you were supposed to be finishing, you toss your laptop down and head into the bedroom where Caroline and Azzi are heatedly whispering. They stop as soon as your footsteps near the door.

Why were they acting so suspicious?

“Ladies, would you mind telling me what the actual fuck just happened?” you ask sarcastically. Being out of the loop was not fun.

“Oh you know, just KK being KK,” Azzi said, brushing it off. “Nothing that concerns you really.”

“But it concerns Paige?” you prod, trying to get any information out of her. Being around Azzi for years at this point, you had grown to learn her weak spots.

Your eyes narrow, and you stare her down in a way you could only hope was somewhat threatening.

“If it concerns Paige I wanna know. We’re best friends, c’mon please,” you whine. “Is it another one of those thirsty edits?”

Azzi shakes her head and makes a zip of the lip motion.

You roll your eyes at her childish behavior and look over to Caroline expectantly. She just shrugs. They were no help at all.

“Fine!” You say with a tone of indignation. “I'll find that stupid tik tok myself and see what all the fuss is about.” You spin on your heels and walk out of the room with sheer determination. You miss the smirk Azzi and Caroline share once your back is turned.

You were so fucked.

You type ‘Paige Bueckers’ into the tik tok search bar and begin to scroll with the volume up to identify the same sound blasting out of KK’s phone just a minute ago.

Your head gets a little fuzzy as your vision is assaulted with video upon video of Paige. You were used to calming the jump of your heart when you were around her, but the hedonistic edits made you want to scream. Each edit you came to had clips of her flexing, grinning, and sticking her tongue out in a way that made you want to rub your thighs together. They were paired with lascivious lyrics that caused you to nearly let out a whine.

You had been avoiding tik tok recently for this exact reason. Trying to act normal around Paige all the time was difficult enough. You did not need a ridiculous app to fuel the fantasies that threatened to creep into your mind at every waking moment.

At least your screen time was way down.

Your scrolling quickly stopped as you felt your heart quite literally stop. It was you. In all its glory, with a staggering amount of likes, comments, and views, was what looked to be an edit of you and Paige.

What the fuck?

Your hands shaking, you clicked onto it, hearing the same song as earlier. This was the one the girls were freaking out about.

“Azzi, Caroline, get your asses out here,” you yell, trying to conceal your panic.

They slowly strolled out of the room looking worried.

“I see you found it,” Azzi said with a laugh. “So what do you think now that you’ve seen it?”

Both girls tried to gauge your reaction, but you were more concerned about the fact that Azzi had said earlier that Paige would be pissed about it.

You shrug. You had to choose your words carefully. “Well there are edits of you and Paige together,” you reason. “Lots of people think you two are in some secret relationship, and P has never minded. Why would this be any different?”

“Everyone knows that you and Paige have a special friendship,” Caroline alludes. It goes right over your head.

“Well if she is bothered by this then we are not as close as I thought,” you say quietly, still watching the tik tok, as it plays again. You wanted this edit burned into your retinas.

Occasionally you allowed yourself to feel a tiny sliver of hope that you and Paige could ever be anything more than friends. Everytime she gave you a late night cuddle or placed a hand around your waist, as if it naturally belonged there, made you long for more. You knew better than to feel hopeful though. This stupid edit did nothing to quell the burning need for the tall blonde.

Throwing your phone down, you look up at the two basketball players with a look of indifference you’ve learned to master. “It doesn’t even matter,” you whisper dejectedly.

“C’mon, we all know how you actually feel about Paige. She’s the only one dense enough not to see how crazy you are for her,” Azzi soothes. “Maybe it's time to be honest with her. You never know what she’s feeling until you talk to her.”

You laugh. Fuck that. Feelings are meant to be kept inside until you die or they go away.

You’re hoping the latter will come sooner rather than later, but you doubt you'll get that lucky.

“I don't think so,” you scoff. “I need to go before Paige gets back.”

You leave despite the protests of the two girls, and you make a plan to hide from Paige for the next few days. You knew it was only a matter of time before Ice and KK went running to Paige to show her the edit.

45 fucking minutes. That was how long it took before your door was being bombarded by Paige and her delightfully rambunctious children, Ice and KK. You swore under your breath as you quickly weighed your options. Option 1 was simple: pretend you were gone, although the smell of your microwave popcorn could have easily given you away. Option 2 was the grown up thing to do: open the door and have a conversation like an adult. Option 3 was straight up crazy: jump out of the window and run for the damn hills. You glanced at the open window of your bedroom before shaking your head. You needed to stop watching too much television.

Option 1 was it. Fuck being an adult.

You stood next to the door, waiting for the three girls to give up, but they refused to leave.

“I know you’re in there, c’mon let me just talk to you,” said Paige through the door. “KK and Ice can leave.”

You hesitate, but still reach for the knob of the door.

“Please?” Paige asks again, causing you to let out a sigh of defeat and turn the lock so she can come in.

“Are you pissed?” Paige questions, somewhat harshly, as she walks through your door.

You give her a look of confusion.

“Of course not!” you exclaim. “I thought you might be, though. I heard Azzi tell KK and Caroline earlier that you would flip if you saw it. I was just worried it would make you feel uncomfortable, and then our friendship would feel awkward, and I-” you ramble, trying to make some sense of what you were feeling.

Paige cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable. I was worried it made you uncomfortable. I wanted to come check on you as soon as KK showed it to me,” she replied gently. “Me and Azzi, we’re used to the rumors, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about people thinking we’re, ya know, in love.” She whispers the last two words as if it was some big secret.

You let out a shaky laugh. “It means nothing to me. That would be ridiculous anyway,” you lie smoothly. Burying your feelings for Paige was an artform for you now.

A quick shadow of something that was hard to read flickered over Paige’s face. You chose to ignore it. ‘It’s easier that way, less messy and complicated,’ you thought sadly. Little did you know, things would get even messier and more complicated.

Two days later you were sitting in class when you hear the same fucking R&B song playing from your classmates phone. You look over at her, meeting her eyes. She smirks and slides closer to you.

“So you and Paige Bueckers, huh?” she says curiously, almost like a taunt. “I’d imagine she’s incredible in bed.”

Her hypothesis startles you.

Who the fuck says that to someone they barely know? You feel your pulse rise in anger, wanting to defend your friend. You feel hot with jealousy. Anyone thinking about your Paigey in a sexual manner made your blood boil. In your mind, she was only yours.

You decided it would be fun to play into it. You lean closer to the gossipy bitch, and with a whisper you say, “you have no idea the things she does to me. Fuckk, I mean, we’ve all seen the edits. Her tongue is always out.” The obnoxious brunette to your left looks shocked, and she rolls her chair further away from you.

With a satisfied smirk, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. ‘What the fuck did I just do,’ you thought. Rule number 1 of being Paige’s friend and only her friend was to avoid thinking of her in the way you really want to. That means no fantasizing, no tik tok edits, and absolutely no talking about having sex with her.

You lay your head onto the desk. What an idiot you were.

As the class comes to a close, you escape quickly to avoid any awkward looks from other people on campus. The last few days have left you feeling unsettled as the edit of you and Paige reached ridiculous levels of popularity. Everyone was now thinking you were somehow involved. You hated how much you wished that to be true.

You had promised Paige that you would hang out once you were finished with your class, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy to your friendship. You rolled into her apartment anxiously, calling out for her. Paige pokes her head out of her bedroom, waving you in with an equally anxious smile.

This worries you. Paige was always the grounded one of the pair of you. Her nervous demeanor makes you think something is wrong. You take a deep breath before sitting opposite her on her bed. It smelled like the lotion she always wears, and you subconsciously inhale a bit longer than normal.

Fuck she smells so good.

Paige stares at you for a few seconds, making you feel hot under her gaze. Those eyes piercing into your soul made you want to scream her name until the neighbors could hear. She takes a breath. “So basically everyone thinks we’re in love,” she deadpans. Her nonchalance makes you squirm. How the hell does she feel about being uconn’s newest gossip train? It's hard to tell.

“Yeah, I kind of figured when I was just asked in class about how you are in bed,” you mutter, blushing at the confession.

Paige looks vaguely surprised at first, before replacing the look with a smirk. “What’d you tell ‘em?” she questions.

With a sudden surge of confidence that you typically only get from ample amounts of alcohol, you reply, “I told her that all those edits of you with your tongue sticking out could only mean one thing.”

Paige grins cheekily. “You’re not wrong. I am great with my tongue. Maybe one day I can show you.”

You think your heart had never beat this fast in your entire fucking life. You were still feeling particularly bold, so you murmur, “I’m free now?” There was no way Paige was going to agree to that, so you get up to leave, before you feel her hand grab yours, pulling you back into her.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” Paige demands. “Do you actually want this? Do you want me?”

You nod your head embarrassingly fast. You felt like an overexcited puppy. “P, I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”

“Good,” the blonde replies. “Me too. Now let me show you all of my little tongue tricks.”

Paige grabs your jaw with one hand, placing the other around your throat to keep you right where she wanted you. Your lips meet finally, and everything around you fades into nothingness.

Oh my God, she tastes so good. Paige presses hot, open-mouth kisses down your throat, sending shivers through your whole body and right down between your legs.

“Need you naked for me, babe,” hums Paige. ‘For her you would fight a war,’ you thought, as you stripped your sweatshirt off, revealing the pretty pink lace of your bralette.

You mentally high five yourself for your underwear choices this morning. Showing up in your granny panties would’ve been terrible.

Paige helps you out of your jeans and starts placing tantalizing kisses over your inner thighs and stomach. You can feel your arousal leaking out of you already, making you feel slick with the anticipation of what was to come.

Paige notices the wet spot on your panties, grinning as she lightly blows air over your clothed pussy. You arch your back wantonly, needing more-so much more.

“Please, Paigey,” you whine in a way that gives Paige a big head. “Need you so bad.”

“Use your words, baby. What do you need?” she coaxes, still alternating between kissing your inner thighs and swirling her fingers against your clothed clit.

“Please just touch me, I’ll do anything for you,” you moan brokenly. You could feel yourself start to slip into some sort of subspace. At this point, you’d do anything just to get some more stimulation.

“So polite, aren’t you, babe? I’m gonna take good care of you,” Paige promises before ripping your soaked panties off in one quick motion.

For the first time, you were splayed out naked in front of your best friend, with her having all the power in the world over you. Before you could begin to feel insecure under her piercing gaze, Paige swirled two long fingers into your sopping pussy, admiring how easily turned on you got for her. She brought them up to her mouth, sucking them in and moaning about how good you tasted.

“You taste as sweet as I’ve been imagining for years,” she whispers. “Have a taste.” She brings the same two fingers up to your mouth and drags them across your swollen lips.

You lick your lips and groan at the taste of your own arousal, wiggling around on the bed and humping the air to get any sort of pleasure. Paige presses your hips flush against the mattress, keeping you from moving. She was yours to control as she wished. Finally, she brought her mouth down to your burning heat, starting with a long and slow lick up your pussy. It felt so good you could cry.

“More, P, need more,” you cry. She was being a fucking tease, and you could feel yourself go crazy as she ate you out slowly, as if she was eating her last meal on earth.

She granted you some reprieve as she entered a finger and then another into you, slowly stretching you out with scissoring motions.

“So wet for me, aren’t you my pretty baby,” she gloats, and you try to avoid rolling your eyes back into your head in pleasure. Her fingers pick up a cruel and punishing pace, targeting your g-spot as if it had her name written on it.

She fucking owned you.

Paige, still finger fucking you, presses kisses up your belly, onto your tits, before meeting you in another searing kiss. You want to sob at the sheer pleasure. It was overwhelming; the heat of your best friend’s body pressed flush against you, the moans ricocheting off the walls, and the tightening in your lower belly that threatened to spill everywhere.

“Fuckkk, Paigey, I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan breathlessly. “Please, please let me cum, please I need you,” you whine in an incoherent babble of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you,” Paige pants out, riding the highs of dominating you and ensuring the unceasing assault of your g-spot.

With a guttural moan and a string of words that would make a sailor blush, you ride out your high. Paige’s fingers slow as you pant, coming back to reality. She watches your chest rise and fall a few seconds before removing her fingers from your fucked out pussy and licking them clean.

“You did so good for me,” she praises, causing you to squirm, activating your praise kink once again.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “This isn’t going to make things weird now, is it?” you question anxiously. That was the last thing you wanted to happen.

“‘Course not,” promised Paige, linking her pinky finger with yours. “I’m plannin’ on wifing you up now.”

You giggle as the last bits of awkwardness fall away, feeling blissfully fucked out. “What about you, though?” you ask. You wanted to make Paige feel as good as she made you.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, baby,” she replies. “You look like you’re about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep.”

You smile sleepily at her. She knew you a little too well.

“I should send a thank you card to whoever made that edit of us,” you murmured against Paige’s chest, making her laugh.

“And I'm definitely getting rid of all three of my vibrators,” you announce, causing Paige to grin proudly.

Paige was unquestionably okay with that.

#Paige #paige bueckers x reader #paige #paige bueckers #friends to lovers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

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cupcakeinat0r · 21 days

Text

DadBod!Miguel as a brat tamer

You’d been dying to go out dancing for a while now, but your man, Miguel, wasn’t too keen on going. Besides being swamped with work, he also wasn’t really into the scene due to his introverted nature. Not that you were an extrovert nor was it your scene either, however, you did love to dance. You didn’t need to drink or smoke or take those “poppers” or network with a bunch of fakes or whatever. You just loved to dance, and Miguel loves nothing more than to see you happy, so he agreed.

Miguel took you to a really nice spot in the city that played some salsa and reggaeton bangers. For Miguel, the smile plastered on your face made all the loud music and over-bearing people worth dealing with.

“Alright, mama, the floor is all yours. I’ll be waiting here.” He uses his lips to motion at a small table off to the side. Attached to his arm, you look up at him with a frown.

“You sure you don’t wanna dance with meeeee?” You bat your eyes, using one last effort to get him on the dance floor, but alas, he wouldn’t budge. To ease the disappointment, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and tells you to have fun, and that he gets more joy out of watching you instead.

Making your way into the crowd, one of your favorite songs comes on and you immediately get into it, and like sew, you find a group of those sweet girls that are complete strangers but end up being your best friends by the end of the night because that’s how nights at the club go.

You all dance with each other, singing/screaming the lyrics at each other. Y’all salsa dance with each other, swaying your hips, letting loose. You’re having a blast, but a part of you still wishes that Miguel was dancing with you.

You glance over at the small table where he sits with his legs spread wide open, his black slacks that fit his thick thighs and ass perfectly, and his belt hugging his wide waist, his soft belly the cherry on top. His black top is buttoned up except for the top four, letting his chest hair peek. The long sleeves are fighting for their lives as they try to contain his bulging muscles. He makes the table look so small. His dress shoes are just as shiny as the thin, gold chain around his neck. He takes a swig of his drink as he looks back at you, practically undressing you with his eyes. You smile at him when you decide to give him a show.

Miguel lets his mouth sit slightly open as he watches you dance, your ass jiggling through the thin fabric of your dress. Whilst enjoying your show, he’s simultaneously looking around, making sure no one makes a move on what’s his.

The song comes to an end and a more slow one begins. You start seeing people couple up and you look at Miguel again, your hand motioning for him to come to you.

Miguel shakes his head and raises his hands in refusal, but you’re not giving up.

It’s corny, but you start lassoing a pretend rope, miming as if you’re pulling him onto the dance floor. This wins a chuckle from him, but he doesn’t get up, shaking his head ‘no’. You drop your hands in defeat then make a tear drop motion with your finger on your face and pout. He pouts as well, and mouths ‘I love you’ as a sorry for not wanting to dance.

You chuckle back and roll your eyes, walking toward the table.

“You’re really not gonna slow dance with me? Not even a little bit?” You ask with your hands on your hips.

“Baby, you know I’m not a dancer.” He says, grabbing your hand to rub circles on with his thumb.

“I’m not asking you to be a dancer, I’m asking you to hold me and step side to side with me for like 2 minutes.” You cross your arms, actually getting upset now.

“How about this, I’ll slow dance with you when we get home, alright?” He speaks lovingly, trying to compromise his own insecurities so that you were happy. You let out a short sigh, “You’re acting like an old man…” Miguel wasn’t amused by that comment, but he knows you’re just giving attitude at this point. “ay beba, por favor, no seas asi conmigo…” he tuts, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer in between his legs, his thumbs making circles on the fat of your hips.

“No, that’s fine. Be like that then.” You pull away from his hands to turn on your heel, going back to the dance floor.

Everyone is already paired up, and you look around awkwardly trying to figure out what to do. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a guy.

He’s absolutely nothing compared to your Miguel but you guess he’ll do for now. You smile at him and begin dancing with him. It’s bachata, so your hips are extremely close to his, his hands tightly grabbing your waist to keep you tightly against his own body.

The glass in Miguel‘s hand could’ve broken had he squeezed any tighter.

You paid no mind to him, but you could feel Miguel’s eyes practically burning a hole into you. Maybe next time, he won’t think twice about dancing with you now.

He thinks about just running in there and ripping the guy to shreds, but he knew better than to embarrass his girl in public like that. He’ll have a talk with you later, privately.

2 hours go by and Miguel sits miserably at his seat after watching you dance with strangers. When you walk back to the table tiredly, you see how pissed Miguel looks.

“Okay… I’m ready to go home!” You’re breathing hard from dancing. Miguel is silent and cold, but still stands to take your hand and walk you out of the club, holding your purse, carrying your shoes, and letting you wear his jacket.

The whole ride home is quiet and his hand that is usually on your thigh isn’t there. You know why. You felt bad, but you never asked much of him, and the one thing you ask for, he wouldn’t give to you.

Still feeling guilty, you try to start conversation in the car, about what to possibly cook for dinner or if y’all needed any groceries, but he just kept facing the road, his brows furrowed and hands clutching onto the steering wheel.

Once you two get home, you reach for your car door handle, but Miguel spits out a curt ‘wait’. Miguel hates when you open doors for yourself. That’s his job, the gentleman. He leaves the car to go over to your side to open the door, but when he does, he stands in your path, and you’re not able to get out, “Care to explain to me what all that was?” His speaks with authority.

“What do you mean?” You play slick. You knew your boyfriend was a giant teddy bear at heart, but sometimes… it was fun pushing his buttons.

“Que tu creer? The stunt you pulled at the club, that’s what I’m talking about.” You’re really trying him, but Miguel is doing his best to control his temper.

“I was just dancing. I asked you if wanted to and you said no, so-“ and in less than a second, Miguel’s pulled you over his shoulder and is carrying you into the house.

You laugh hysterically, kicking your feet, calling out his name and telling him to put you down. Oh, he was mad. You were laughing, but none of this was funny to Miguel.

“o, bueno, entonce baile con un cabron, right?”His voice starts to raise and his blood begins to boil as he walks through the front door and makes way to y’all’s bedroom.

He throws you onto your bed, your body bouncing on the softness of the comforter as you let out some giddy chuckles.

“Jealous?” You smirk, having a little too much fun with this.

“You think this is funny? Cuz’ I don’t.” His lips don’t curl even a bit, which meant you were in for it. You watch him start to unbuckle his pants, biting your lip and rubbing your thighs together.

Just when he was gonna pull down his slacks and briefs, you gasp when he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you open. He basically rips your panties off to find that you’re already starting to drip. “Puta madre, you’re so needy…” he hisses under his breath while he pulls down his briefs, revealing his own dripping, hard mess. He goes to pump himself, inches away from your heat. Watching him fuck his own hand so close to your entrance, you needed some type of relief, so you reach for your clit, but Miguel is quick to catch it and hold it above your head, pinning your other hand shortly after, “Nuh uh, you don’t get to do that. Not tonight, baby.”

His vice on your wrist is tight, making you squirm under him while he thrusts into his one hand, your wrists pinned against the pillow in the other.

His breathing picks up as he edges to his climax, the squelching of his pre-cum in his hand ringing in your ears. He purposefully moans and whimpers into the shell of your ear, putting you through absolute torture. “You don’t like it, do you? Not getting what’s yours? Huh?” He breathlessly speaks between each pound into his fist, your moans becoming more desperate. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, your body weeping for his fat cock.

“Mig, please, pleaseeeee… not fairrrrr,” you beg, wriggling under his grasp, his belly grazing yours every time you arch your back. You had your legs wrapped around his waist and any time you tried lifting your cunt closer to his dick, he’d pull away so you wouldn’t reach, and you’d whine in defeat.

“Not fair? Dancing with some idiot when I told you to wait ‘til we get home isn’t fair.” He growled. With a small whimper, he did one last, slow thrust into his hand before he could combust, edging himself because he wasn’t gonna let you have the pleasure of having his come all over your stomach. Not yet.

He lets go of your hands and positions himself on his knees, moving closer to your leaking cunt. Getting hot, he unbuttons his top and throws it across your shared bedroom, unveiling his now glistening dad bod. You thought you could come just from the sight.

“Fuck, had you not acted up, I’d be devouring this… mierda…” his mouth waters from how wet you were, but he had to stand on business. You flinched when you feel one of his thick fingers drag along your folds, from the bottom to top. When his middle finger meets your pulsing clit, he draws small circles on it, making you whine, “Miguel! Please, I’m sorryyyy, pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

Your eyes are wide shut and your mouth completely open when he starts quickly shaking his forefingers against your clit, your juices flying and falling onto his lap. Miguel takes your moans as indications that you’re close, so just when you’re about to come,

He stops.

You literally cry when he pulls away his hand, a smirk growing on his face, “Mig, I- please, I can’t- I can’t, I’m sorryyy,” you plead for his fat cock, which is practically hovering over your aching heat.

He lowers himself to you, his hands gripping onto the softness of your waist. This allows you to feel his length against your pelvic bone, twitching and wet.

“Sorry for what?” He glares down at you, waiting for your reply.

“Sorry for being mean… just wanted to dance with my man, is all,” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his forehead to yours.

“I won’t do it again, I promise. Please, fuck me?” Your eyes wide with innocence and pleas, you push over Miguel’s heart. You play with his chest hair as he scans your body, thinking if he should accept your apology.

“Coño… such a brat. I’ve spoiled you, you know that?” His voice softens, lining himself up with your hips.

“Because you love me!” You baby talk back to him, batting your lashes at him knowing you’re finally gonna get what you wanted.

“I do. Too much.” Is what he breaths out before rooting a hot, tongued kiss. He groans into your mouth when he starts grinding his cock against your folds, with the addition of your hand pulling on his curly locks on the back of his head.

He pulls away, a string of saliva breaking as he looks down to guide his puffy tip to your entrance. He brings his lips to your ear again and as he slides his dick in, he simultaneously grunts in your ear, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Giving you no time to adjust, he pounds your pussy into tomorrow. The room full with your pornographic moans as well as Miguel’s, the lewd squelching, and the bed creaking. If he went any harder, he’d break it.

Miguel has your legs pushed against your chest now, putting you in a panting mess. He bunched up your dress so that your skirt was up to your midriff and the neckline sat right below your bouncing tits. The way his tip meets your spot every time had you seeing stars and yelping high-pitched gibberish. His happy trail and lower belly slapping against your clit was the cherry on top of everything.

After groaning in your ear, Miguel whispers again, “Am I still an old man, Beba? Huh?” His lip curls as he watches you go dumb from his cock.

You didn’t even bother answering him because all you could think about was how good he was filling you.

He slaps your ass and this snaps some sense into you, somewhat bringing your gaze to his. “Answer me, baby.”

Your voice shakes from the rigor of his thrusts, but you still manage a, “N-no, baby… no…” While you were somewhat right, Miguel was still technically older than you, but that didn’t stop him from fucking you like a horny college boy. The man knew how to fuck and make you come.

“That’s right, mama… fuuck…” Miguel lets a couple more groans out, his ability to be so vocal helping the coil in your stomach unfurl.

“Baby, I’m- I’m gonna c- I’m gonna come…” you barely get it out in a whisper.

Miguel slaps your ass again, “louder.”

“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, your climax about to explode, but Miguel feels you clench.

“ay, diablo… you liked that, didn’t you? Squeezing me s’good…” he slaps your ass one more time before you let out a series of ‘yes’, your hips stuttering against his.

Miguel drags out his own high, slowly pumping in and out of you as he groans into your ear, “Mmmfuckkkk mami…”

He pulls out slowly as to not hurt you, his juices mixed with yours, eventually leaking out. After telling you how good you were and placing a loving kiss to your cheek, He grabbed some tissues on the night stand and cleaned you both up.

“Hey, I really am sorry about earlier. I feel bad for how I acted.” You finally catch your breath, speaking sweetly to Miguel who was changing into a clean set of boxers. He had put you in one of his t-shirts that fits oversized and grabbed a pair of panties for you.

Miguel insists on getting you everything and doing everything for you. When he said he spoiled you, he meant it. He took off your dress and dressed you, he wiped your face with toner, got you some water, everything. You were his queen.

“Mamita, please, I should be sorry for not dancing with you.” He coddled you, pulling you to his chest. No bed sheet or pillow could compare to his soft stomach. “Well, still, I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” You look up at him from his chest and he looks down at you, his hand rubbing your back underneath your shirt.

He lets out a soft chuckle, “It’s alright, mama. Besides,” he turns over to his side, making you two face each other and he whispers, “I can just fuck the attitude out of you.”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder while he lets out a velvety laugh.

Even though the space between y’all is minimal, it is still too far for Miguel’s liking, so he wraps you in his burly arms, your leg instinctively slinking over his waist. His laughter dies down, your own giggling coming to a stop, and he just whispers, “You know I love you, right? So much, it’s crazy.” Which makes you smile like an idiot, so you roll your eyes.

“I love you, too, viejito.” Now it was Miguel’s turn to scowl and you laugh.

But his expression melts when you kiss his nose as a quick save. Not enough, Miguel cups your face for a full kiss. It was a less passionate kiss, but a long, loving one, putting the perfect seal to an incredibly romantic and intimate moment.

Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list bae!

Tags <3

@reewrite @pigeonmama @fayeofthenightingale

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psychwxrdd · 3 months

Text

drug dealer! soft! rafe being a love sick puppy

🎀 author's note: buzzcut rafe is my favorite rafe omg 😫 yk that one song "i'm a gangster's wife to an anybody killer" i had that lyrics on my head all day and it got me inspired lol and as much as i love dark/horror themes i love soooo much soft and sweet! rafe. yeah a canon of him being a drug dealer but he still is my little princess

(not mine gif)

also besties send me requests! i'm in the mood to write today

warnings: fluff, sexual mentions in the end but no actual smut

drug dealer! rafe instantly became infatued with you, the second he first saw you. he just knew he had to have you (please i can't help but imagine him staring like that one crazy stare he does in s2 when he's with barry and hears kiara in the drain lol)

drug dealer! rafe absolutely fucking worships you. like i MEAN it. he's selling his thing and worried about his busy and can't stop thinking about you, constantly texting you under the table. he has sooooo many pictures of you, not just on his phone but in his wallet as well, it's almost compulsive: he wants needs to stare at it all the time, and everyone always mocks him for this. he doesn't care about how crazy or corny they think he is or shit, thats his girl, the love of his life, his future wife and mother of his children. he would go to hell for you.

drug dealer! rafe who spoils the shit out you, if you said you wanted a big house like this or that, in color x or y, he would buy it entirely for you, the exact way you wanted. needless to say, he would buy anything you saw in a store that had your eyes shining, no matter what it is, if it would make you happy he wouldn't think twice. also, he is obsessed with the cute things you like 🥺 like imagine him buying a sylvanian family for you, or those sanrio plushies.

drug dealer! rafe who has you on his lap at any single party him and barry goes to, he doesn't let go of you for nothing. one say overprotective other say clingy, whatever it is, he always wants you on his arms. need to go to bathroom? he is waiting on the door. need a drink? he tells barry to got get it for you both (LMAO). you're tired or sleepy? he carries you around like a bride.

drug! dealer rafe taking you home and can't stop smiling staring at you sleeping, admiring your beauty and feeling his heart race from how much he loves you, how happy it feels to have you. he puts a song you like on the radio even tho it wasn't his taste or you weren't awake to hear it. you'd wake up and he'd be caressing your hair, the minute he he saw your eyes opening he said "shh, go back to sleep princess, it's late" and you were too sleepy to answer anything. he caressed your forehead, cheeks, nose, ears. he loved to put his fingers on your dots too, you had some small ones you didn't even noticed you have, but he did.

drug dealer! rafe already has a ring on his pocket just waiting for the perfect moment to ask you to marry him. you're the only person who ever gets to see this side of him, so he would probably get emotional while doing it.

drug dealer! rafe who have a MASSIVE breeding kink, but mostly because he really dreamed of having a family with you. not just because it felt good to cum inside you and it was hot, but because he really felt something he couldn't describe at the thought of you also wanting him to be the dad of your children, to have a family with him. it made his heart euphoric, it got him acting dumb. it meant you also wanted to spend your life with him, that was his biggest turned on.

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #x reader

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carakook · 2 months

Text

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #smut #fiction #fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts smut #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #faceclaim

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minhosimthings · 4 months

Text

Cherries

Symphony Smut Series Day 8: Lana del Rey's Cherries

Lyric: My cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme, and all my black peaches are ruined

Pairings: Heeseung × fem!reader, strangers to friends to eventual lovers

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, sub!reader, dom!Heeseung, corruption kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), reader wears a dress, overstimulation, heeseung had a big dic, size kink, swearing, sorts of fluff too

A/N: GASP? TWO CORRUPTION KINK FICS? scandalous, Mona. but I just had to, cause apparently y'all like corruption a bit too much so have it ya beautiful people.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Going to a college graduation party with a stranger you had met at the grocery store two weeks ago didn't exactly seem like the most perfect plan, but it was the only one you had.

But Heeseung somehow managed to make you feel better about it.

You had met him at your local grocery store, when he was taking the last blackberry pie. You coldly stalked off somewhere else, trying to find something to fullfill your sweet tooth, when the cute purple haired guy walked up to you shyly and handed you the pie.

"You were glaring daggers at me, so here you go." You remembered him saying, as he took a piece of Oreo cake from the shelf behind you.

One encounter led to the other and you and Heeseung somehow managed to bond over assignments, dumb teachers, and not being able to find dates for the end-of-semester party.

And as a chain reaction does, you miraculously got him to be your date for the party, which you really didn't have an appetite for.

He was a handsome man you had to admit, with the prettiest eyes and lips you could stare at and fullfill your hunger, how you wished to kiss those lips.

“oh, wow. you’re so beautiful.” Heeseung's eyes widen at the sight of you, your figure clad tightly in that little black dress, the fabric hugging your curves perfectly, providing him with a feast to his eyes.

"Please, you look better than me." You scoffed, looking at him in his jeans and white shirt, which was open at the top, exposing his neck. He was an actual meal, as your roommate would say.

The party was lame, lamer than any party you had ever been. And that was something to say, considering you had attended Jay's book party last year.

But it had turned better as the seconds ticked by, and now, you were laying naked on Heeseung's bed, as he leant over you, ghosting his lips against yours.

He was gorgeous, his hair falling slightly onto his face which was illuminated just right by the moonlight falling through the window.

"Do you want me to do this, princess?" Heeseung leaned back to look at you properly, his hands on your hips, his eyes almost filled with pity, "I won't do it if you don't feel comfortable."

It was almost pathetic to admit to Heeseung that you, a woman in her early twenties, had never fucked anyone. But he was more sympathetic than you had expected him to be, very philosophically explaining to you how 'virginity didn't deter a person's life', which made you laugh.

But then again, here you were, telling Heeseung to fuck you, so that you know what it feels like before you turn 21.

Your hands are on Heeseung's hips, fingers almost digging into the waistband of his jeans. You’re aware of the room's coolness and how the moonlight flickers on the side of Heeseung’s face, casting shadows of his features. He leans in to kiss you, his lips careful when they press themselves to yours. His hands are still holding your face like he’s afraid you’ll break or, worse, disappear. You kiss back fervently, not wanting to take a single second of contact with Heeseung for granted. He lifts your hips up, letting your legs wrap around him. He pulls away, momentarily, to look at your face.

“Relax princess,” Heeseung says, caressing your cheek, "I want you to relax for me alright?"

Your eyes fully conform to the darkness, seeing some of Heeseung’s features as he unfastens his shirt and rips it off his arms. He climbs over you, pushing up your dress over your thighs. Before you have time to protest, which you aren’t going to anyway, Heeseung kisses your bare cunt tenderly, softly letting his tongue glide up and down your slit before teasing your bundle of nerves. You mewl quietly, Heeseung's large hands splaying out on your thighs and holding them still so you don’t move.

"Ahh fuck Hee." You moan, feeling his tongue move inside you, something you hadn't ever felt. It felt good though, as he moves in and out.

He lets his tongue delve inside you, your warmth enveloping him. Heeseung picks up your thighs and pushes them against your torso so you’re spread open for him. His hands brace themselves on your shins as he laps up your arousal seeping from your entrance. You groan as his tongue circles your clit with your wetness before he sucks it between his lips. Heeseung slips two fingers inside you, your pussy taking them with ease. Your body is in tune with Heeseung and the shapes of his tongue, fingers, and cock. So much that you can take anything he gives you with pleasure.

This was pleasure like you've never felt before. Everyone had always told you that the first time would always be the best. You were starting to believe that myth now as your eyes were on Heeseung's.

He curls his digits inside you, caressing the spongy spot that drives you insane. Your hands fly to Heeseung’s curls to hold on as he sucks your clit desperately, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Adding a third, he stretches you out delightfully in preparation for his cock. Heeseung removes his fingers from you, licking them clean before lapping up your remaining arousal leaking from your hole, all stretched out and ready for him.

Heeseung keeps your knees pressed to your chest as he pumps himself a few times, spreading his precum along his length. He hovers over you and gives you a deep, passionate kiss. Heeseung, even though only a friend for some weeks, loves you more than anything, and he will prove it. As his tongue explores your mouth, he pushes his tip into you, and you moan into the kiss.

Heeseung pulls down the front of your nightgown and squeezes your exposed breasts as he continues to move inside you inch by inch. Bottoming out, Heeseung stays there, focusing on kissing your jaw and neck for a moment.

"Pretty girl." He muttered softly, pure affection on his voice, opening your legs even more to give his body enough space. He lined himself up to your cunt, gently pulling his foreskin down to rub the tip of his dick up and down your wet entrance, slowly going in until he's bottoming out again.

"Ah-ahh" you moaned, feeling Heeseung's cock split your walls open slowly. He felt big, really big, and he slid into your pussy so easily as if it was made for him and only him. His cock rubbed against your pussy's walls, making you whimper. That was the only thing you could get out of your mouth at the time.

"Are you okay?" He asked you gently, his hand slowly running up and down the length of your hair worriedly when he noticed the slight grimace on your face. Heeseung smugly knew he was big in every single way, and his cock was not the exception.

"I'm good, just— move, please." Feeling the stretch of his massive shaft was just as painful as you imagined, yet the pleasure that came from it couldn't be denied.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans looking at the way his cock disappears inside of you. His neck straining as he holds himself back.

He builds up a pace, slowly going more and more intense as his thrusts get rougher, deeper, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills his bedroom. You're thankful his roommate isn't home at the moment.

"Ah fuck you're so perfect." Heeseung moans. For some reason, he felt protective over you now, wanting you all to himself

"No one else gets to touch you like this." He growls out, sitting on his knees while his massive hands easily hold onto your hips, lifting you up with him while he pounded into you, your moans mixed with his as he used you like you were simply a fleshlight— compared to his massive frame, you are.

He moves your hips away as he pulls out, suddenly slamming himself all the way back in before you can protest. He drags a whiny moan out of you, pain and pleasure mixing as you can feel a familiar warmth building up in your stomach. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out pure nonsense. His voice sounds hotter than ever and you listen intently, dumbly nodding your head to his words despite not understanding him.

“S-shit baby, don’t wanna hurt you” he grunts, slowly pulling out and back halfway in. As he refuses to go deeper again, his eyes already rolling back as your tight velvet walls grip onto him. But you keep pulling him back, practically an animal for him

“Fuck Princess, so fucking tight” he whines.

“Jesus fucking Christ” Heeseung moans at the sight of you. Most girls would’ve cried in pain, he always needed at least an hour of stretching and foreplay to get half way in and yet here you are taking it.

“Ohh fuck- fuck- fuckkk fuckkk” you all but scream as you let go. You tremble under Heeseung’s body, face contorted, jaw slacked, drool dripping down your chin. It’s like you’re high and drunk at the same time.

“That’s it Princess Taking me so well.” he grunts. His eyes rolling back as he clenched his jaw and comes hard. Thick white ropes paint your velvet walls already dripping down to your ass. Your pussy too small to accommodate both his cock and cum.

“Shit” he heaves, slowly pulling out not trying to hurt you further.

"Did I hurt you?" Heeseung looks over to you wrapped up in his arms. He had cleaned you up all good, while you were still dizzy from all the overstimulation, and now Heeseung felt worried.

"That was the best thing I've felt in my life." You chuckle, easing his mood, "Thank you, Heeseung."

"You're welcome princess." Heeseung presses you closer, wanting to be with you even more, "Don't worry I'll take you out for a real date tomorrow."

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged, send an ask my way!

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lvvvyi · 11 months

Text

05 : Miguel O'Hara ✧

C.W : gn!dom!reader ; ma'am/sir title ; breeding ; jealous sex Cond. Notice: guys I don't know how to make plot work so here's utter crumbs. this was supposed to be a simple little drabble what the fuck like this is what miguel does to you 😧😧

Thinking about a few lyrics from “Jealou$y” (The Neighbourhood) and Miguel. It’s really clouding my mind, like making me go insane.

❝Promise you that'll make a baby with you.❞ You whisper into his ear, before lining up your strap/cock to his hole.

Due to your previous rounds, you slid in with ease which makes Miguel groan at the returning feeling of you thrusting into him. You waste no time, and keep to your usual quick pace of pushing your full length into him. He writhes at each jab at his prostate, making him see stars every time. Usually you restrict him from touching you, but tonight felt different.

You let him grasp at your back, digging his claws into your back. His muscled arms pull you closer to him, allowing you to whisper dirty nothings as you use him. You just had to have your way with him, after that stupid act he tried to pull off this morning. You know the typical act to catch your focus by flirtingly talking it up with some random person. His pride really got the best of him, because it pushed him further to fuck with you. Dragging him away from the “simple” conversation, you don’t bother asking him about it, already knowing his ego is going to talk batshit and just enjoy the heavy silence on the way home.

“This is all mine, yeah?” You remind Miguel through rough moans, while making your strap/cock hit sharply to punctuate it.

“Yes, fu-fuck, ye-” He tries to reply back, but your strap/cock pulsing inside him is all on his mind. With pre-cum already dripping down, his neglected cock grinds against your stomach. You think about moving a hand to help him, but you stop when you glance at his fucked-out state. He’s already so messed up, with messy curls splayed against the sheets and a trembling toned chest covered in bites. Of course you can’t forget those gorgeous eyes staring back at you in a daze. So, the bruising grip on his waist tightens and you continue bringing it to yours.

❝Make a momma of you.❞ You rasp at him, as you feel the heat of your orgasm rising. But Miguel barely registers your words, due to the spurting feeling of your strap/cock.

Slowing down slightly, you fuck out your high straight to his prostate, angling your hips for a different depth. He whines at the change in speed, and lifts his hips into you at his own pace. You give him silent Really? and in response he hides his face with a hand. Even when he’s near fucked dumb, his stupid ego still makes way.

“Ma’am/Sir, lo siento! Ahh, too good!” It’s just utter music to your ears.

So, you make it your goal to see his flustered face stare you down shamelessly. And here Miguel is, crying out loudly to you abusing his prostate and thrusting your strap/cock so far into him. He's shooting blanks and seeing stars at this point. His brain is too hazy from the idea of you fucking a baby into him. He can't help but just lay there, trembling and moaning, letting you grab, pinch, thrust as you please. Absolutely ignoring his aching cock and just focusing on your orgasms, quickly coating his hole white.

❝Ain’t no drama with you.❞ You remind him that today’s little act really didn’t have an effect on you. Instead you wanted to experiment with how desperate and greedy he can be for you.

Despite your relentless pace inside of him, you litter soft kisses all over his neck and jaw. You allow Miguel to let loose under you, watching as his pride falls and he starts begging you to stop, urging you that it's too much, whimpering at every sharp thrust. Though you both know what's happening if you really do stop - you know he’ll start getting fussy.

Although crying out for you, Miguel actually is enjoying it. Maybe he should play around with your possessiveness more.

[ 651 km away ]

#.lvvvyi #sub miguel #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #sub spiderman #spiderman x reader #dom reader #top reader #fem dom reader #gn reader #stn. 🕷️

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atinysunbaby · 3 months

Text

Request from : @ateezluvv

⌛Ateez Maknae line having a crush on you⌛

Hyung line

🖤Choi San🖤

You have been working at KQ for a few months now, as a songwriter and you were assigned a personal space with a desk, computer and everything needed for the process of your job. During the first few weeks, the manager wanted to test your capacities and see how well you work in a group project. He sent you through days of endless work and you managed all the pressure quite well.

Your coworkers helped in making your integration easier by being nice and friendly and you adapted better than you would've expected, and the atmosphere in the workplace is always pleasant. Up till now you've participated in the writing of a few songs and small projects for both ateez and xikers, meeting ateez only briefly during a meeting.

You're first impression is that they are polite and hardworking boys and although you were aware of their beauty, you weren't ready to be hit by such powerful visuals.

Later, you were told about a project coming up and you were proposed to work with San on his solo. You meet for the first time in your studio, San's dimple popping out and greeting you early in the morning and it instantly warms your insides.

"Good morning~ I brought you a coffee, I don't know if that's alright?" He asks, sleep lingering in his voice, you can tell by the deep and raspy tone that makes goosebumps rise on your skin the moment it hits your eardrums. "Oh yes that's perfect! Thank you, really."

Your answer seems to please him, as his teeth make an appearance and his eyes almost close from the strain. He sits next to you on the extra chair you bought a few days beforehand, preparing for this day and maybe future tasks. "Let's begin!"

Now over two weeks working together with San and you can't help but feel a bit sad that the song is almost ready, having spent a lot of alone time with him made you grow attached to the kind hearted and endlessly charming man. "I think we might be done."

Those words hit you harder than you thought, it feels like a train ran you over. You don't like the way your heart aches, but it is what it is. "I enjoyed working with you San, thank you."

He smiles for the nth time, but something's different about this one, it doesn't reach ihs eyes and the dimples aren't as defined. "Yeah, uhm.. me too! I hope we can do this again in the future."

The next few minutes are filled with a tense atmosphere, the only sound heard being the shuffling around as you both clean up and gather your things. "Actually."

You almost jump at the unpredicted sound of his voice, turning your full attention to him and it shocks you to find him fumbling with his lyrics sheets, ears and cheeks red, lips pressing together making his cute dimple face unresistible. "I was wondering if you'd be interested t-to go on a date with.. me?"

You freeze for a second, being surprised and absolutely pleased from the unexpected request. "I'd be happy to, of course San."

💚Song Mingi💚

The boys decided to go out tonight and blow off some steam, drinking and dancing through the night. Mingi wasn't really up for it at first, his perfect night would have consisted of reading mangas or watching animes while eating some snacks before going to bed early, but the others convinced him and he ended up not regretting listening to them.

He's been watching you for a while now, having caught his eye almost immediately after he sat down in one of the booths, telling the others he would start the night by staying back for a bit. Now he has the perfect excuse to analyse every single details about you and he finds you absolutely stunning, you might just be the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

He notices your smile first, so bright and full of grace, it makes his heart flutter uncontrollably and he loves it. Then his gaze trails over all of your features, your lightly made-up eyes sparkling under the dimmed lights and the way they hold so many emotions at the same time, your adorable button nose that moves whenever you talk and your lips, round and plumpy with a coat of rosy gloss for an even more seducing appearance.

He swears your hair probably smells like heaven and he wants to run his fingers through it, massaging your scalp to feel you relax under is touch. "Yo Mingi! Min- Guys we lost him, poor dude."

Your black lacy bustier, revealing just the right amount of skin to leave more to the imagination, your cropped blazer hugging your frame perfectly, the short leather skirt with a small slit on the left side, tight around your juicy thighs making him lose his mind and cute little boots to contradict the rest of your sexy look.

"What the hell dude, what even is this?" Wooyoung shrieks in disgust, elbowing San in the ribs while watching one of his best friend drooling over some bartender he's never met before. "I don't know, might wanna wake him out of his fantasies though."

"Yeah, that shit's on another level of creepiness." Yeosang states while bitting his nails in concern, his eyebrows scrunched and a judgy stare directed at Mingi. "You troublemakers leave Mingi alone, it looks like he just fell in love."

"Seonghwa. If Mingi wasn't handsome, everybody would find it creepy and don't try to deny it." Seonghwa looks at Yeosang, defeated. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Ok enough of this." Yunho grabs his friend by the shoulders and briskly shakes him out of his daze. Said boy looks puzzled for a minute, no clue as to why he's being disturbed. "What?"

"Are you serious? You have no idea why I had to intervene from whatever delusion was going on inside your head, like you haven't been checking that girl out for the last hour?" Mingi instantly flushes red, his thoughts having cut out most of his rationality and he had no idea it had been that long. "Just go talk to her."

"No. I can't." Mingi refuses without a second thought, feeling anxiety creep up inside of him and being powerless against it, his limbs paralyzed with fear. There's nothing he wants more than to run over to you and strike a conversation to hear your most likely angelic voice and be blessed by your beauty up close, but unfortunately for him, his body had another plan. "Hello there~ Did you guys need anything?"

"Oh yes! I think my friend here had something he wanted to ask you?" Said friend being Mingi, is ogling you and seems to have lost all of his brain cells. You're even more perfect than he imagined, your features are enhanced and the aura that surrounds you is enough to enlight his senses. The distance between you both is so short that he can smell your sweet, fruity perfume and it calms his nerves a little bit. "Umm yeah. Hi I'm Mingi."

"Y/N~" You say with a smile, waiting for him to continue with intrigue. With a sudden boost of confidence, Mingi speaks up in hopes to be rewarded for his effort. "You're absolutely gorgeous and seem nice so I'd like to take you out on a date sometime- if you want to of course! Would you mind if I gave you my number?"

❤️Jung Wooyoung❤️

"I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but I think this step is wrong." Wooyoung speaks up with uncertainty in his voice, it looks like he doesn't want to offend you, which is not the case. You've been teaching him a choreography for a new dance cover and have been at it all day, somehow you're tiredness must have taken control over your body, because you're usually fully focused. "Yeah you're right sorry."

"No that's ok, don't worry about it. Hey do you need a break- or we can stop for the day?" He's genuinely so sweet, you're supposed to be the one taking care of him, but he's taken that part very seriously. Making sure you stay hydrated every once in a while, getting you some snacks in order for you to have enough energy, checking the time to make sure you take breaks over the span of a few hours and whenever there's a slightly sudden movement in the routine, he checks up on you through the mirror, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. "No need, all good- Well, do you want us to stop though?"

You turn around, facing away from your reflexion to look at the boy, only to find his concerned stare already on you, searching for any sign of discomfort through your features. "We can keep going for a bit, but let's finish up soon."

"Alright then, let's start from here." You press play on your phone, the music coming through the speakers and you immediately get to dancing, Wooyoung following suit.

He did notice how exhausted you look and it doesn't help that he 'accidentally' heard the conversation you had with your best friend over the phone while on your lunch pause. You were whispering, but he couldn't help being nosy as usual and found out that you've had a bad recent break up, barely sleeping and eating, your nerves hard to control at times.

For the rest of the day, he felt a foreign sentiment in the pit of his stomach, there's also a familiar anger. One thing he's sure of, it's that he wants to pay a visit to the person who hurt you this badly and do much worse to them. "Wooyoung? Hey, are you ok?"

You wave your hand in front of his face, heart beating rapidly because of fear and worry, he's been standing still for over a minute, eyes fixed on the floor and filled with an emotion you can't quite make out. "Wooyoung!"

You try to step back, as he suddenly grabs your wrist. You seen to have woken him up, out of his weird trance, but you end up almost bringing the both of you on the hard ground as a result. "Shit! Are you alright?"

You can't focus on any word he's saying, the muscular arm that's wrapped around your waist and the feeling of his strong fingers squeezing your hip making you feel a bit dizzy. "Y/N?"

You look up at the soft call of your name, liking the way it came out of his mouth. For the following moment, you just look into each other's eyes, no words needing to be said, until Wooyoung breaks the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

🧡Choi Jongho🧡

"Cut! Jongho you need to look into her eyes, got it?" Jongho nods his head in agreement, saying a soft 'understood' to further show his understanding, but from next to him you can easily make out the faint blush spreading from the tip of his nose, all the way to his ears and the side of his neck.

For this scene, his character has to gaze into your eyes while confessing and keep a confident front, but Jongho keeps failing, not being able to keep eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. "Don't be nervous, just look at me and you'll be fine."

You try reassuring him, ignorant to the fact that you just made him even more of a nervous wreck and no matter how much he wants to be able to calm down from the sound of your voice, he can't. The truth is that he's started to develop the biggest crush on you and it's the first time he can't hide his feelings.

Everybody knows how good of an actor Jongho is, ense the reason why the staff and even you, are pretty surprise at his lack of self-control. "Why don't you guys take a ten minutes break? Maybe, go over a few lines together."

"Thank you!" You bow to the director and grab your co-actor's hand, unconsciously interlacing your fingers and the boy follows without fussing. With no doubts, he cherishes the moment, especially as you're the one who initiated the skin contact. Although he knows there isn't any another motive behind it, other than bringing him with you to a specific destination.

You find a quiet and slightly closed space, in hopes to make him feel more comfortable, but he actually appears to have the opposite reaction. Having for mission to keep a big distance between you two, Jongho almost rams into the wall behind him when you step forward to start a conversation.

His heart aches the moment he has a glimpse of the hurt expression on your face, you're quick to mask it, but it's already too late. You glance at him through your lashes when you hear a deep sigh coming out of him, followed by a nervous laugh with a hint of pain in it.

You watch curiously as he runs his hands over his face and he straight up looks at you without flinching away this time. "I like you. I did for a while now, but it's too much for me to keep hiding my feeling anymore."

"Wow you did it! I knew you could, but you know that's not exactly your line right? You're supposed-" He gasps like a fish out of water, trying to comprehend the situation. Only to painfully realise that you thought this was him acting and he suddenly feels like throwing himself off a building. "N- No wait that's not- I wasn't practicing.."

"Oh.." You immediately shut your rambling mouth, confused more than anything, but eventually, grasping the seriousness in his demeanor and hoping to make the poor guy's life a little easier, you speak up. And he's almost on the verge of imploding at the time your voice rings in his awaiting ears. "Well then, you probably wouldn't mind practicing the kiss scene?"

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wintfleur · 5 months

Text

ꔫ jealous woman?!

°. — pairings ( Oscar piastri x drunk female! reader )

°. — summary ( calling your drunk girlfriend jealous = tears )

°. — details ( g; fluff, humor? w; drunk reader. wc; 561 )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I have no idea what this is tbh, I wrote it in like 30 minutes after I watched a tiktok. I hope you guys enjoyed this! I actually had fun writing it I also wanted to say how proud I am of Oscar in his rookie year! He did so good! )

“You were talking to her! And you were smiling!” you shouted, your words coming out a little slurred from all the alcohol you had throughout the night. You had your arms crossed and you did your best to glare at your boyfriend who was standing across from you in the living room of your shared apartment. But it was more adorable than angry.

“I was being polite! She was asking for suggestions on taxis to get her and her girlfriend home” Oscar voiced loudly, emphasizing the girlfriend part. He had tried to stay calm but after a whole Uber ride home of the silent treatment it was finally getting to him, he had to remind himself that his adorable girlfriend was very much drunk.

The two of you had been out at the club with a few friends, and you were dancing when you noticed your boyfriend talking to another girl, you didn’t like how close she stood to him or the way he was smiling. Now the two of you stood in your living room, you dressed in some Pj pants and one of his shirts and Oscar was still wearing the clothes he wore out, he was too focused on defusing the situation to change.

“She stood too close to you, and you didn’t even care” you said much quieter, your throat hurting from shouting and all the screaming along to the lyrics you did at the club. Your drunk mind started to play tricks on you, and you started to tear up the more you thought about the situation.

“You’re the most jealous woman I know!” Oscar shouted as he threw his hands up before resting them on hips, he wasn’t upset with you he was just tired and in shock at what was going on. How did he get himself in this situation? Oscar clearly didn’t notice your watery eyes because if he did, he would have never raised his voice or said those words.

“You know other women?” Your voice came out small and pitiful, tears slowly rolled down your face and your arms fell at your sides. Oscar’s shoulders sunk and he sighed, his poor girl was too drunk to fully understand what was happening. He stepped towards you and was quick to pull you into his arms for a hug “Awe baby.”

“Pretty, you are the only woman for me” he speaks sweetly, holding you close to his chest. Knowing that the only way to calm you down was having you close and safe in his arms. His reassuring words let you melt into his arms, tightly holding onto his waist while he hugs your shoulders.

“Promise?” You sniffled, your voice coming out muffled, but Oscar heard you clearly. Your eyes closed, you felt so tired all of a sudden and the warmth from Oscar was not helping you stay awake.

“I promise pretty” he promises as he rubs your back softly with a smile on his lips. You tilt your head up to look at him, your chin resting on his chest. Oscar smiles and softly pecks your nose before pecking your lips, his thumbs softly wiping away any tears that were still on your pretty face. He spoke quietly, seeing the tiredness in your eyes.

“Now let’s go to the bathroom, you forgot to take your makeup off on your left side.”

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom )

#﹕─┈ roro’s works #﹕─┈ roro’s drabbles #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #abu dhabi gp 2023

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vacayisland · 4 months

Note

Could you do a John Dory x Retired Singer/Musician Reader? Pls and thank you

(I loved meet the wifie I fucking cackled at "imma beat his ass!")

@!; Oldies are always better. John Dory / Retired! Reader

"Tag List"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat

ꨄ︎. You were a big alt-indie musician, making music that tended to have a little bit of everything; the funk and beat of the funk tribe and the techno tribe, the guitar riffs and drum solos from the rock tribe, some classical instruments as undertones, and pop-like lyrics and beats. All the while you also put your own spin on it. Music had always been an outlet for you, always allowed you to take what was in your head and thread it into sound for everyone to hear. Sometimes it was chaotic, sometimes it was mellow, and it always depended on your mood when writing, composing, and singing. It's usually was drew people to your music. It was down to Earth, yet also complex and simple at the same time. Those who wanted to dive into the meaning of your music and dissect it would find multiple layers, many undertones that all harmonized. Those who just wanted to vibe out to your music could do that as well.

ꨄ︎. When you had left your career behind, it wasn't because of anything bad. You left with one final song in which explained that you were stepping down to let the new generation to find their own flow, to let other people take the stage, to be able to sit back and enjoy everything that will come in the future. You were only around 24 when you put down your guitar for the final time for the public; But you never gave up music for good on your own. While you never published anything anymore, you kept writing and composing for yourself as it was truly your passion.

ꨄ︎. This is when JD found you, playing in a friend's cafe. You had caught his attention right away, so much so he didn't hear the waiter when he had asked for JD's order. He was honestly so captivated by you for a moment he wondered if you were some sort of siren. He soon realized, yeah no you weren't, you just were really, really good. And he needed your number, badly. And that sounded a little creepy, but when you see someone who's not only good looking but knows how to sing and play an instrument all in one? You don't miss that chance to talk them up, and JD was defiantly not missing his chance!

ꨄ︎. JD didn't see a ring on your finger, it was fair game for him. Luckily you hadn't been seeing anyone at the time, but you still gave him a reality check after he approached you as though he was the coolest guy on the planet; Introducing himself before using some sort of cheesy pick up line to get your number. "Hey, babe, my name is John Dory and you seem rather lonely. You know, I can fill that 'me' shaped hole in your heart if you give me your number!" And then he winked!? Your friend was flabbergasted. You thought he was really brave.

ꨄ︎. And you hate to admit that his stupid pick-up line (which didn't even seem like a pick-up line!) actually worked and he got your number. (And he would be so smug and proud about this fact for the rest of his life.)

ꨄ︎. You two talked for a few months before making anything official, and then you waited about a year or two before you two even thought about moving in together. Even so, by 6 months of dating you basically lived in Rhonda; Your stuff littered his home, you had your own set of clothes there, your own toothbrush, and even your own house slippers. Then when you moved in, it felt natural. It felt like this was where you were always meant to end up and somehow the planets aligned. And for some reason JD never noticed the fact you brought in an electric guitar, which also sat in your shared closet. Sometimes you wonder if he's just stupid or a little blind, because he's also seen your play.

ꨄ︎. Either way, one day when he was hoisting his brothers over (after the whole Floyd situation got resolved, and god you were kind of glad you were staying with friends during all of that; not because you didn't like his brothers but because you didn't think you could handle meeting his family during that whole situation.) when they heard you playing your guitar in the bedroom. You weren't doing anything fancy, mostly tuning the guitar and making sure the strings didn't need to be replaced. But, of course, that always had to include one of your most iconic guitar riffs from a song about fighting your crushing mentality during the lowest part of your career. "Holy shit dude, I didn't know your lover listened to (Y/N)!" Branch would be the first to comment, being the most diverse music listener in the family. Floyd, who had been distracted by the riff, perked up at the conversation and nodded in agreement. JD only gave them a confused look, leaning against his kitchen counter, "Dude, my lover is (Y/N)?" And JD wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't all four of his brothers stopping and staring at him completely baffled. Mostly Floyd and Branch, who soon yelled a rather loud, "WHAT?!" "What?!" Which only confused JD more.

ꨄ︎. You hadn't met JD's family before this point, but you've heard all about them; Not only from JD, when he told you about his band days, and when you heard them around the trailer when they would come over. Usually you stayed in the bedroom, not to be rude yet to just let JD have his time with his brothers. Yet, you couldn't understand what all the yelling was about, "Yo, Que te pasa? Why the hell are you guys yelling?" You would ask, poking your head out of the door to the bedroom. Your expression tired, your hair messier, yet you could care less at this moment; You were sure JD's brothers wouldn't mind, they would see you worse later on since you were planning to stay with that big doofus. "Oh my god-" You flinched when Floyd dropped the cup he was holding, his jaw dropping upon seeing you; And honestly, for a second, you forgot you used to be a big artist. "John Dory," You started, startled by the reactions his brothers were giving, "Vas a decirme lo que esta pasando ahora mismo."

ꨄ︎. JD is always a little intimidated when you speak Spanish, mostly because his Grandma used to scold him and his brothers in Spanish. So he only explained (rather quickly) how his brothers had heard you tuning your guitar in the bedroom and how they just got weird. And that's when Branch defended himself, along with Floyd, how JD never told them that you were his lover! "And what's it to you that I love your brother?" You shot back quick and snappy, crossing your arms as you shot a glare their way. You weren't above throwing hands with JD's brothers. Floyd noticed the way JD glanced away, sipping his coffee. He was quick to stand up, placing a hand on Branch's shoulder to calm him, before explaining the whole situation to you better; Saying how Branch and Floyd were just big fans of your music and they didn't realize that you were with JD, because no matter how much JD spoke about you he never told them that you were his lover.

ꨄ︎. "Oh, Mierda lo siento." God, this made things a little awkward, "I thought you were about to be one of those horrible step-siblings that didn't like his brother's lover for some dumb reason like my hair." "What? No!-" "No, yeah, I see that now. My bad, really sorry." You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, "JD can be really, really dense sometimes, shut it John Dory!," You pointed a finger at JD before he could make a peep in protest about your slight insult, but it was made out of full love. "Let's start over, hi I'm (Y/n) and it's really nice to meet you."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say, JD forgot to tell his brothers that he was dating an old sensational artist...and kind of forgot you were one and was very shocked to realize this! Furthermore, you were a little flabbergasted when he revealed that some of BroZone's songs were influenced by your music. You would stare at JD after he confessed such a large secret, "Wow... that's a big insult." You mumbled sarcastically under your breath. "EXCUSE ME?!" But you guessed JD missed the sarcasm. "I'm being sarcastic, love. That's kind of sweet." Playfully rolling your eyes, you pressed a kiss into JD's cheek before turning back to his brothers. You crossed your legs, rested your elbow against your knee, and held your face in your hands. "Now about you four, how about we get to actually know each other. I'm planning to remain in this family after all..."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say that JD is wifing/husbanding/etc. you up really quick.

ꨄ︎. He still brags about how he first got your number and how he managed to 'snatch you up' before anyone else could. You told him he's too old to use new lingo and to stop, lovingly of course as you didn't want your 'husband' to embarrass himself. He melted hearing you call him husband before getting a bigger ego boost; And you had fun watching him terrorize his siblings while his ego was so inflated. You even jokingly did the whole 'I'm watching you' eyes to one of his brothers (Clay) as a silent threat that this is how you were always going to hand JD off to them like. He gave you the biggest (playful) stink eye ever. Yeah, you're going to fit right into this family.

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