#which is coming back to bite me in the butt
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weekend update time!
finished my gideon the ninth reread (as excellent as i remember it being) and am about 100 pages into HtN. my working theory is that something mentioned in the first 100 pages of one book will become massively relevant/a meme in the next one. gideon had a soup reference and harrow had a cow one, can't wait to get to nona and see what ends up in alecto asdfghjkl
in between i read fable by adrienne young and was massively underwhelmed and won't be continuing the series. but, shoutout to the underwater sections, they were beautifully written and i wish there'd been more of them
i also finished mushishi vol 3 and omg??? there was a flashback???? and it was super sad????? not that i'm shocked it's melancholy but OH BOY
#bookblr#books#reading#the locked tomb#fable adrienne young#mushishi#i'm sure it's just coincidence#but i now have soup and cow circled#so if i ever donate this book to someone they're gonna be very confused#i also bought some books for myself as a reward for passing the jlpt#so expect a post on those at some point in the near future#also also a special edition of a book which i'm not getting until march but is really really pretty#and surprisingly cheap#i'm sure that won't come back to bite me in butt later#not queued
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i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼
sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3
“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”
your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”
“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.
you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”
he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”
“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”
your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.
“found you!”
your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”
“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”
you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”
“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.
“yes, and I hate it.”
he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”
and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.
satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”
s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.
satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”
satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.
satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”
s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.
he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”
“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.
so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”
your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.
he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”
“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”
s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.
satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.
s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.
your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.
your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.
your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.
satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”
“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.
he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”
your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.
after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.
once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.
caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.
your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.
he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.
your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”
s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”
satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.
“mama!”
“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.
and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.
he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.
“s/n, look at mama!”
“yay!”
after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”
“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”
“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”
your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”
“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.
you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”
you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”
your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“
he perks up.
“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”
and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.
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#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo imagine#jjk x you#jjk imagines#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen x you#jjk gojo x y/n#jjk gojo x you#jjk gojo x reader
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SPECTACLE. -j.ww
in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.
pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader.
content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.
w/c : 2.7k.
notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.
content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.
Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.
You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up.
He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb.
Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.
“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he’s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.
You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.
“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why.
It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.
“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once.
You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.
“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”
You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.
“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”
You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression.
Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.
“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time.
“Are you s–?” You start to ask.
Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly.
And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–
“I want you to sit on my face.”
Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy.
It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel.
It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.
When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.
“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”
“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”
“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh.
The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes.
But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away.
You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.
“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.
“What if they break?”
“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”
You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.
“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.
“I said, sit.”
His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.
“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin.
“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”
He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.
“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”
Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.
“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”
So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and grind down against his ardent mouth.
He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.
When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.
“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you.
“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”
“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.
“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.
“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”
thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3
#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#kpop smut#*#j writes.#this is the best title i've ever given anything and if you disagree. argue with the wall#i'm fucking hilarious. anyway don't perceive me.#taking myself to horknee jail right this second
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WORKING OVER TIME.
TOJI, KENTO, SUKUNA + FEM!READER.
mdni. dub con, gangbang, a bit of inappropriate touching but you don't complain, no curses au ( you all are office workers lol ) , stuck in a wall, cunilingus, anaI fingering, use of spit as lube, oral male receiving ( w Nanami and he's kinda mean ) unprotected sx aka creampies and cum swallowing. words used to refer reader: dummy, princess, slut. NOT PROOFREAD
“c’mon pretty, I know you can get it” ever since you arrived at the company, Toji hasn’t lost a single chance to tease you, making his approach seem friendly when in reality, he just wanted to fuck you raw.
“i’m trying!” you huff in return, embarrassed by the current position that you find yourself in, stretching your hands to reach for the documents folder that fell behind large rack, and you, being the only girl working after hours was the perfect fit to help the man retreat such important material, “i can’t reach it!”
Toji is so grateful that you’re not watching him, allowing his eyes to wander through the way your round ass is up in the air, standing on tip toes while letting out huffs of exertion, sounds Toji wished to hear while being balls deep in your tight pussy. a soft yet firm slap lands on your butt cheek, not painful but making you squeal, “Toji!” you yell, ignoring the way your face burns and core throbs, denying the attraction you had to the man wouldn’t take you anywhere.
he chuckles, “you’re almost there, just a bit more... although, i’m not complaining if you take your time, the view over here is wonderful”
“you’re the worse” you mutter, used to Toji’s behavior and way too over friendly touching, the tips of your fingers brush over the hard edge of the folder, skimming in a little further to grasp it with a triumphant sound, “i got it! Toji help me out”
“of course, princess” the man smirks, holding onto your hips but instead of pulling, you feel him pushing you down and deeper into the rack, your head almost hanging from the other side of it.
“Toji you idiot! now i’m stuck, you made it worse”
“nah” he tuts, “i think I made it perfect” there’s a deep laugh coming from his chest, clearly enjoying himself, rubbing his hands across your thighs.
“what’s going on?” another voice joins, steady steps approaching your squirming form, and you can tell who it is immediately, another one of your coworkers who adores teasing you nonstop.
“dummy got stuck while trying to pick up a folder that fell” Toji’s voice is filled with humor, a bit mockingly if you had to say.
Sukuna grins, allowing his hand to rest on the small of your back, “is that so?” you hear him laugh.
“i hate you both” you bite back, trying to ignore the growing wetness between your legs, most likely staining your panties and dripping down your thighs.
“oh, but it seems like you’re enjoying this” the pink haired man speaks again, letting a single finger trace the contour of your pussy through the pencil skirt you wore, pushing enough for your wetness to seep through and drench the other layer of fabric.
“i’m not!” you hiss, futilely trying to kick the men only for them to grab your legs, one each.
“this sweet cunt of yours says otherwise” Toji huffs, raising your skirt until it pools around your waist, taking a teasing lick across your covered slit to which you mewl, hips wiggling against your better judgement, “don’t fight, honey, we’ll make you feel so good” Sukuna’s hands then reach forward, spreading out your pussy lips after Toji tugged your underwear down, letting it stretch around your knees.
“what a pretty thing you are” Sukuna speaks, letting his fingers caress the skin of your folds, teasingly sliding them across your wet clit just for a brief second.
by this point all rational thoughts are pretty much gone from your head, focusing on Toji’s heavy breathing straight in your core, and Sukuna’s thumbs keeping your hole spread and leaking. a loud groan resonates in the small room, followed closely by the dark haired man’s tongue plunging into your sopping cunt, so deep and so good your hands desperately try to find purchase in the smooth wall right in front of your eyes.
“she’s gorgeous” Sukuna groans, palming his bulge, “isn’t that right, Kento?” and you yelp at his words, a sound that could get easily mistaken as a pleasurable one since Toji kept on slurping loudly against your clit, sucking on your folds and swirling your slick on the tip of his tongue.
Sukuna and Toji were something, but you actually held respect towards the blonde, worried about how his opinion on you would change by watching you moan over your coworker eating you out.
“what do you think you’re doing?” his voice is deep and calm, a bit tired if you had to admit.
“Kento!” you gasp and kick, earning a pinch in your ass and Toji’s muffled voice vibrating in your pussy, “if you’re going to moan someone’s name so prettily it better be mine”
“oh, c’mon, join the fun, she’s enjoying the attention, like a little greedy slut” this time is Sukuna’a turn to speak, returning to his place by hunching next to your hips, his face hovering over where Toji continues his assault and letting a glob of spit to fall in the crack of your ass, using the thick substance to rub on your puckered hole.
“n-not there! i can’t—” you whine, thighs shaking from the double stimulation.
“you say that but your pussy is fluttering like crazy” Toji chuckles, now using two of his fingers to penetrate your hole, going at such a fast pace that you’re unable to speak and just moan, “cum, I know you’re close” he rasps, his fingers not flattering until liquid gushes out of your cunt and soaks his fingers at the same time as Sukuna’s finger dips in your asshole.
“o-oh, my god—!”
“fuck yes, you’re so goddamn sexy” they half praise, half groan, both men digits still buried inside your holes and moving in sync, slowly driving you insane.
a second finger joins the one in your ass and the ones in your pussy disappear, replaced by a sticky trail that left on your thigh, up and across your asscheeks where Toji glides his cockhead against, tapping on your clit a couple of times for his own selfish enjoyment in hearing you beg.
“please...” you whine, not certain of what but the emptiness of your cunt brought tears to your eyes, twitching in aftershocks of your previous orgasm.
“you better be on birth control, baby, because i’m fuckin’ you raw”
“elders first” Sukuna chuckles, observing intensely how Toji’s cock slowly disappears into your wet hole, ripping whines out of your mouth and forcing your ass to squeeze Sukuna’s fingers, biting back a groan of satisfaction at the idea of how tight you might feel inside.
“fuck me! f-feels so good!” you scream, attempting to dig your nails in the wall as a shiver runs down your spine once Toji’s cock is deeply buried inside your pussy, drooling precum inside your slippery walls.
“so fuckin’ hot, i’m going to enjoy breeding this tiny pussy” you mewl while the man starts to pound into you, slapping Sukuna’s hand away and replacing it with his thumb, fingering your tight hole as his cock stretches your cunt, groaning deeply at the tight squeeze of your walls, sucking him deeper with each thrust.
“i’m cumming again” you cry out, embarrassingly sooner than expected, unable to stop the sudden wave of pleasure surging through your body and forcing your walls to clamp down on the cock ruining your insides. he continues to fuck you through your orgasm until his own high gets triggered, cumming hard with a deep growl, halfway pulling out to spray your folds and lower back with cum.
“prettiest pussy i’ve ever fucked” Toji says, stepping aside to allow Sukuna to pull your thighs back, forcing you to take his cock in one swift motion, filling every inch of your pussy.
“you love this, don’t you, a perfect fuckhole, letting us take turns in fucking this tight pussy” Sykuna growls, moving in slow but hard thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs, bringing tears to your eyes and you slick to drip down on the floor.
“y-yes, Kuna! my pussy feels so good” you babble delirious, thighs shaking under the intense and hard pounding into your hot cunt, overstimulated but feeling impossibly good.
“fuuck, you’ll make me cum soon, better stretch this pussy nicely for Kento, hm? he acts all serious but has been jerking off for the past hour” Sukuna’s last words come quietly, almost like a secret you pretty much enjoy considering the sudden tightness in your walls, squeezing tightly around his cock while his hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you still as his balls slap against your clit.
“f-fill me up, please” you beg, eyes crossing as your pussy cums around him, taking Sukuna with you as his hips speed up, groans turning into growls while he fills you with his hot cum, pumping into you with tiny thrusts, more like humping your ass.
you breathe heavily, trying to compose your erratic heartbeat as Sukuna pulls out, cum oozing out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.
an unconscious yelp gets ripped out of your throat at the sudden pull of your legs, unstuck and landing on the floor with a dull thud where your knees hit.
“open your mouth” Kento growls, tugging your head back slightly enough to guide the dripping tip of his cock into your mouth, a bit of consideration to your abused cunt.
“wettest cunt, wettest mouth” Sukuna whistles next to the blonde, watching how his length comes out of your mouth glistening and soaked with your saliva, “aren’t you perfect everywhere?”
ignoring the other men in the room, Kento starts to use your throat back and forth, careful but firm enough to bring tears to your eyes, adoring how there's drool slipping from the corners of your lips, eyes glossy and almost rolled to the back of your skull with how good you feel. it doesn’t take much time for the man to approach his orgasm, rubbing your tongue with his cock head and slapping your cheeks before plunging it inside once again, his groans only increasing with the subtle buck of his hips against your mouth.
“i’m cumming, you swallow it all” he huffs, pressing into your mouth as deep as possible, making your nose rub on the peach fuzz above his cock, choking and moaning as cum fills your warm mouth. “next time I’ll be cumming in your pussy, since you love slutting yourself out”
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk nanami smut#jjk sukuna smut#jjk toji smut#jjk kento nanami smut#jjk toji fushiguro smut#jujutsu kaisen nanami smut#jujutsu kaisen toji smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna smut#kento nanami smut#toji fushiguro smut#sukuna smut#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉
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A Man has Needs part 1
This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.
Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)
It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.
Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.
It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.
Bed. Now.
He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.
He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.
Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.
The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.
Tomorrow…
He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.
Sleep.
Oo o oO
Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.
Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.
He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.
He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.
He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.
There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the fuck?!
Wait.
Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!
There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!
Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.
No!
What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.
Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.
Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.
It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.
Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.
At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.
So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.
No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.
Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.
Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.
He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.
Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.
Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.
The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.
So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.
But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.
Shit.
New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.
This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.
Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.
It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.
Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?
Oo o oO
Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:
This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.
He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.
This was very much not his apartment.
There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.
Shit.
He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.
Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?
He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.
His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.
“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”
There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the fuck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?
What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”
The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.
“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.
But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.
Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?
Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.
“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”
Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.
He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”
Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.
Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.
Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-
Oh-
The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.
Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.
The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”
“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.
When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.
The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”
Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?
What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?
Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.
He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.
Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?
He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.
-
If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip.
Edit: Masterpost now up if you wanna subscribe
#dp x dc#dead on main#a man has needs#Danny is trying his best to pretend this is normal#and okay#Jason has no clue whatsoever.
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Teaser
Summary - basically just Lando smut.
Warnings - smut. p in v. unprotected sex. dominant Lando.
The final race weekend - in Abu Dhabi. Your boyfriend Lando was currently placed second on the driver standings. To say he was hyped up was an understatement. The whole week has been filled with a buzz of excitement. It had been a long time coming for an amazing McLaren result, and you couldn't be prouder of it was your Lando who achieved that.
You hadn't seen Lando all day as he was tied up with media duties today. You got yourself ready for a dinner that you both were going to with Charles and Alex. Lando, however, had other ideas. As soon as he'd arrived back to your hotel room and saw the mini black dress you were wearing, his hands were on your ass and his lips were on yours.
Tongues battling for dominance. Biting. Licking. He was starved of you.
''Y/N, Fuck I've missed you all day. Been waiting to taste your cherry lips for hours'' he said as he cupped your face and kissed you again.
''Lan,'' you chuckled. ''I've definitely missed you too, and as much as I want to carry on, we have dinner with Char and Alex tonight. She's just texted to say they're waiting downstairs for us'' you said as you pushed his chest away, but not before pecking him again.
He backed away, quicker than you thought he would, smirking at you.
''You asked for it, baby. Remember that for later'' he winked at you.
While Lando was in the shower you touched up on your makeup and fixed your hair. What you weren't prepared for, was Lando walking out of the bathroom. Butt-naked. Dick looking painfully hard, bouncing up and down, abs on full display and his little curls looking beautiful as ever.
Of course, you're always naked around each other. But there was something about him being naked and wearing a face that says ''I know you want to fuck me, but save it for later.''
You watched him with your mouth slight agape, clenching your thighs together because you could already feel the wetness pooling where you craved him the most.
''Y/N to Earth, baby'' he said pulling his boxers on and eventually the rest of his clothes, while you really couldn't think of anything but his dick in your mouth.
While in the elevator, Lando's hands found your ass again, and since you were wearing a short dress, it was easy for him to slip his finger under.
It was now his turn to widen his eyes when he discovered you weren't wearing panties and he immediately felt your wetness.
He smiled at you, ''You've made your own bed now, love, by not wearing any panties.'' Lando removed his hand from your pussy and licked his finger clean from your juices, which, thanks to him, were present.
''Oh boy'' you thought to yourself. But you loved this side of Lando. The release later would be worth all the tension now.
You walked hand in hand and found Alex and Charles waiting for you.
''Mate, took you long enough'' Charles said shaking hands with Lando.
''Yeah, Y/N missed me too much'' Lando smiled at you.
''Yeah right'' you stuck your tongue out at him.
The restaurant was a lovely intimate place. You took your seat next to Lando and immediately felt his hand on you thigh, where you knew it would take up residence for the rest of the evening out.
You quickly realized that the waiter was paying too much attention to you. Always looking at you only, always leaning over your side of the table. And he even winked at you a couple of times. You weren't sure if Lando had noticed, otherwise he would have reacted by now.
When it was time to choose dessert, Lando, having no filter with his mouth, looked at the waiter and said ''I know what i want for dessert, but unfortunately eating my girlfriend out is not on the menu'' he smirked at the waiter, whose face turned red and had no words to say.
''Fuck, Lando'' you shrieked. Charles and Alex trying to keep their giggles in.
Lando's hand slipped under your dress again to touch your core, and by now you were flustered. Firstly, by Lando saying things like that in public, and now sliding his fingers through your pool of juices again. Your breathing picked up and you started squirming in your seat.
He bought his lips by your ear and whispered ''Behave, or you'll pay for it later. You've already put yourself in trouble twice tonight..''
All you could do was bite your lip and nod.
Thank fuck you were in the uber back to the hotel. You needed him. The man fucking drove you crazy tonight, and you couldn't wait to let him have his way to you. And thank god Alex and Charles were in another uber. Lando's mouth was currently on your neck, leaving marks for sure. He was biting and licking and sucking, all while his had found your nipples through your dress and was pinching them harshly.
When you finally made it to your room, his hands and body were off from you.
You watched as he stripped down to his boxers, went for a piss, wash his hands, and climb into bed. You were dumbfounded.
''Night, baby'' he cooed and closed his eyes.
You were speechless. Is he really leaving you unsatisfied tonight? Yes, he is, because by the time you changed and climbed into bed, he was softly snoring. And you could always tell when he was faking it. This time, he wasn't.
'''Fucking hell'' you muttered. You were still so turned on. But you'd decided you'd fuck him senseless in the morning.
With that, you drifted off to sleep with your head nuzzled in his neck.
You weren't sure if you were dreaming or not - probably not, because you suddenly felt harsh licks on your cunt. You moaned out and your hands instinctively found Lando's head, in between your thighs.
He was lapping at you, sucking and biting down on your clit.
''Fuck Lan, what time is it?''
''Just past 2, but time for your punishment my baby'' he said looking up at you.
''Fuck'' was all your mind could form. You craved him and the whole yesterday, and night, and now your body was finally getting some pleasure.
Lando was so good at oral sex. The best you've ever had. And he knew your body so well. He knew what turned your moans into grunts and what turned your grunts into ''fucks.''
''Please, Lan'' and not a second later his tongue entered your hole. Sliding in and out of you, while your hands grabbed and pulled at his curls.
''Don't cum until i say you can'' he mumbled between your folds.
The room was filled with breathless ''fucks'' from your mouth, licks, and wet lapping sounds coming from Lando's mouth.
''Please Lan, i need to cum, please'' you begged.
''Nope, not yet.''
It took everything in you to hold it in, and when Lando knew you were close, he replaced his tongue with his fingers. He thrust two fingers in you at once. Hard and fast.
You grabbed onto the sheets until your knuckles were white.
''So tight for me baby. Cum'' was all he said before your juices erupted all over his fingers.
Your body was shaking from the stimulation as he slowed his movements to ride your high down, until he pulled out his fingers and licked them clean.
You pulled him up for a kiss and you could taste yourself. Salty and warm. But mixed with him, it just turned you again.
''Need to feel you in me, please Lan'' you begged him again.
''On the floor, on your knees'' he instructed, and you quickly obliged. You didn't want to waste time.
He sat at the edge of the bed and pulled your ass up. Stroking himself a few times, he plunged into you at once. He held his position.
''Baby, you okay?'' he asked.
''Yes, please. Please just fuck me'' you begged.
You could hear him smirk. ''You asked for it baby''
And he pulled out fully before thrusting in again. Hard. This is what you call fucking. In and out. In and out. Grabbing your hips for support, definitely leaving purple marks to show everyone you're his.
He was grunting now ''Fuck Y/N, how do you feel more amazing every time i fuck you? How do you take me so well? Fucking hell.'' he muttered.
''Lan, oh my god, please, yes. Feels amazing.'' you replied, moaning between the words.
You were sure that the people on the other side of the wall could hear you, but you didn't care one bit. If you could, you'd happily let the whole world listen to how good Lando fucks you.
''M'close'' you moaned.
''Fuck, baby, wait for me'' he said through gritted teeth.
''FUCK Lan I can't, I'm cumming'' and as you spluttered around Lando's dick, he let his warm cum fill you up. This was a position that Lando loved to cum, so his load was full and thick, hot and sticky.
He slid out of you and pulled you onto his la.p. Both of you breathing each others' air in, stealing pecks here and there.
''Lando that was incredible. Oh my god'' you said as you felt your legs were still shaking.
You suddenly got a burst of energy and quickly peeled yourself off of him to go on your knees again, except this time you were facing him.
His dick wasn't fully soft yet, so you took him into your hands and licked the tip.
He shuddered. ''Fuck Y/N, you're gonna make me hard again.''
''Need to taste you, please Lan'' you panted.
''Gonna be the end of me, you are'' he grunted before he held your head in his hands and guided you back and fourth on his cock.
You took what you could in your mouth and sucked, already tasting his precum leaking out of him. You pumped the rest and fondled with his balls.
Gagging you took one of his hands in and just held it, squeezing it when you felt tears stinging the corners of your eyes.
''What the fuck did i do to deserve this. Holy mother of fucking'' he said breathlessly.
You held onto his thighs for support and within minutes he was moaning your name.
''Y/N, I'm gonna cum, fuck'' and he let go. The warm liquid that he spluttered in your cunt minutes ago was now being spluttered to the back of your throat, delicious as ever.
You swallowed every last drop before finding your place on Lando's lap again, kissing him senseless. Both yours and his spit, plus him cum dripping down from your mouths and on to your bodies.
Eventually, when you separated, Lando got up to get a towel to clean you both up before jumping back into bed to cuddle you.
''Fuck that amazing.'' he said, still slightly breathless.
You were fucked out, your brain already seconds away from sleep, and all you could do was nod your head and mutter an ''I love you Lando.'' before falling into a well deserved sleep.
''Love you too baby'' he said kissing your head.
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Can you do a newly wed Art x Y/N smut where they can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. Like every day they just can’t resist ripping each others clothes off. They know they’re in the honeymoon faze, but they are so sure it will continue throughout their marriage
art donaldson x reader // challengers. nsfw - minors DNI
-
“Art,” you caution with no real bite as you feel his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress.
He hums back at you, in acknowledgment rather than in question as you feel his fingers move up higher, pushing the hem of your dress a few more inches up.
“Art,” you say again as he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss which you meet willingly. You feel his fingers now brushing the lace of your underwear, and you can feel him groan in appreciation as his fingertips skim across barely there lace which he easily pushes aside. Your legs part involuntarily, as Art finds you already slick.
“You’re wet,” he says as he breaks the kiss to bring his lips up to your ears. He shouldn’t have been surprised, because your body’s reaction to him has always been the same, and always quick, but Art always is.
“Mhm,” it’s now your turn to hum in response as he drops his lips to your neck, sucking lightly on the spot of flesh that he knows will get you even wetter while his fingers begin massaging your clit in gentle, barely there circles which leave you wanting more. You can feel your eye lids fluttering close and you’ve never been more thankful for the secluded, private booth in the otherwise packed restaurant.
“I want to fuck you,” you hear Art say against your skin, as he withdraws his fingers, causing you to whimper at the lost of contact. His voice is soft, almost gentle, a stark contrast to his words. He brings his fingers up, which are shiny with your slick, only to pop his index finger into his mouth.
“Then fuck me,” you breathe out, watching as he tastes you, catching sight of his wedding band, a relatively new addition to his hand and yours, glinting.
-
You both barely make it past the threshold of your apartment before your hands are undoing his jeans, his hands pulling down your top of your dress. Art bends his head, tongue swirling around one of your nipples, an act which causes you to arch into his mouth, a loud moan falling from your lips as the electronic lock on your apartment door whirls shut.
“I need you,” you say, a desperate quality to your voice as you make quick work of unzipping his jeans, pushing them down with his underwear.
“Jump,” Art says against your lips, both your mouths moving against each other, and you do. He catches you easily, his years of tennis working to both your advantage. You hands work their way around his neck, legs winding around his body as your back presses into the wall behind, the door which you had both come in from still just mere steps away. Art can feel the stem of your right heel pressing into his butt cheek as he lines himself up against your entrance with his right hand, his left supporting you. He had gotten rid of your underwear before you had even left the restaurant, making you tug it off before he paid the bill, and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Ready?” He asks.
“Always,” you manage to pant out, your hips bucking forward as you feel the tip of him nudge you. Art pushes his hips forward, bottoming out in one fluid motion. You’re practically dripping but the stretch still makes you gasp, half in pleasure and half in pain as you adjust to him. You throw your head back against the wall, and Art takes the opportunity to bring his lips to your neck as he gives you a few seconds to adjust to him.
“Move,” you implore him, as you attempt to press your hips into his, “please.”
Art begins to move, his hips snapping into yours at an unmatched pace. You throw one of your hands back, palm flat against the wall your other hand finding its way to the back of his neck, nails sinking into his skin. Art can feel the cool metal of your ring stack, wedding and engagement, against his skin. He turns to kiss the inside of your forearm.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters against your skin, the words falling from his mouth like a litany as he continues to thrust into you, “my wife is so fucking beautiful.”
“I want to cum,” the words escape you like a whine, but also a command as your hands inch up the back of Art’s neck to grasp the hair on the back of his head. It earns you a growl from him, not dissimilar to the sounds which he makes on the tennis court, as his strokes become more intention filled, his hips pressing further into you with each movement; Art aims to please. You feel Art’s teeth sink down onto your shoulder as the familiar pressure begins to coil in your middle.
You come with a cry, your orgasm washing over you, and you lose control of your body in the moment, your hips jerking uncontrollably between Art and the wall. Your pleasure drives him over the edge, and he cums with a groan, his hips on auto pilot as they continue to push into yours, but now at a languid pace as he fucks himself through his own high.
“You okay to stand?” He asks, forehead against yours, your back still pressed against the wall, legs still wrapped around him, but more loosely.
“No,” you respond, your eyes fluttering open, looking into Art’s blue-brown eyes. You can feel him softening inside you, but Art doesn’t pull himself out. He manages to shuffle deeper into your apartment, into the guest toilet nearest to the entrance with you still wrapped around him, his jeans and underwear still hooked around knee height.
Art sets you down on the bathroom counter, your skin meeting cool marble before he pulls out of you.
“We’re no better than a couple of horny teenagers,” you muse as you move to tug your dress over your head before letting it drop on the counter beside you, “how long do you think it’ll last.”
You feel Art run a finger up your slit as his cum starts to drip out of you, your still sensitive body shuddering slightly at the contact. You both had always had trouble keeping your hands off each other but since the wedding, something about knowing that you were husband and wife had made it so much worse.
“Do you want it not to last?” He asks, his tone light, but with a flash of insecurity that you know its there.
“I want it to last,” you say firmly as you reach for his hand, your lips going over his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you taste both yourself and his cum on him, before releasing his finger with a pop. You see Art’s eyes darken with lust, his hand coming to grasp your jaw lightly tilting your head up so his lips can meet yours.
#challengers#challengers imagine#challengers fic#challengers fanfic#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x y/n#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson fic
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TENNIS COURT — rafe cameron x kook!reader
summary: you beg rafe to play some tennis with you on your private tennis court, but he gets tired of losing and fucks you right there instead.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, semi public sex, risky sex, pet names, just PURE smut in this one — lmk if i missed any! 𖤓
: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
you stand in your backyard, fiddling with your tennis skirt before hearing the door open. you look up with a grin on your face upon seeing your boyfriend in his cute tennis outfit.
“adorable,” you giggle.
“shut up. come on,” he laughs, holding your hand as you walk down the steps of your huge yard which lead to the tennis court. your mom is a tennis player, so having a whole private court in your own backyard was awesome.
you both grab a racket each before walking to opposite sides of the court.
“you’ve played tennis before, right?” you ask, giggling as you swing your racket in your hand. you grew up playing the sport, so you were pretty good at it by now.
“of course i have” he says, getting into position, ready for you to serve the ball. “hm, okay, let’s see who’s better then, rafey” you smirk, both getting into competitive mode.
you swing the ball up into the air, hitting it with your racket, watching as it flies over to rafe’s side. he rushes to hit it, but he completely misses, making you cover your mouth to hide your laugh.
“that didn’t happen.” he says, running to catch the ball with his hand. “okay, you serve then” you chuckle. he’s so cute. he was definitely lying about having played tennis before.
he gets back into position, lining himself up before throwing the ball up and swinging his bat, this time hitting the ball. but, the ball goes the opposite direction to where he wanted it to go, landing in the sidelines.
“fuck,” he frustrated himself.
you can’t help but to laugh at him. you both continue playing, or trying to play before rafe got fed up, tossing his racket aside and walking over to you. “you sure you’ve played tennis before?” you squint with suspicion and a giggle.
“y’know, tennis isn’t really my thing.” he says, laughing it off before pulling you into a hug. you loved sharing these moments together, they were sweet, it was pure love.
“no? then what is?” you grin, looking up at him as your chin rests on his chest. “you, baby” he smirks down at you, his tall figure towering over you.
“yeah?” you smirk, biting your lip slightly. “yeah, you look so fucking sexy in those shorts i can barely think about anything else.” he tells you, reaching his hands around and down to your ass, gripping your cheeks and pulling them up, making you gasp.
“aww, is that why you were so bad at tennis?” you joke, making him separate your ass cheeks slightly which turned you on so bad, and he knew it. “rafe, don’t do that” you whine, knowing your parents were home and you couldn’t do anything.
“why not, baby? hm?” he asks, rubbing your butt to tease you more. “you know why” you whine. “n’aww. you think mommy and daddy will see you out here?” rafe giggles at you being so worried. “duh,” you raise your eyebrows sarcastically.
“my love, we can’t even see the house from here.” rafe tells you, twisting your body around to allow you to see. he points to the bushes surrounding that side of the tennis court, followed by a wall behind it. your parents surely wouldn’t be able to see, but it’s definitely still risky.
“but we’re not gonna fuck out here, silly” you roll your eyes, wishing he’d stop teasing you but you clearly don’t get his point. “says who?” he asks. “wait— really? you wanna fuck here? but— it’s so open..” you widen your eyes, looking around the yard and being able to see your neighbors houses.
“who cares? nobody will see us.” he says as if he’s certain. “how do you know?” you ask, still looking around but his hand gently grabs your face, pulling it forward to face him. “just trust me. don’t be so paranoid, i got you. it’s just me and you, gorgeous” he reassures you, smiling before dropping his hand and pulling you close again.
his hands went straight back to your ass cheeks, but this time up your skirt. “rafeee…” you whine, letting out a moan as he toys with your ass, knowing that was a weakness of yours.
“shh… let me make you feel good, baby” he whispers in your ear, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you trust him, letting him feel around with your body before slipping his hand down the front of your skirt and playing with your pussy, making you moan.
after kissing and touching each other for a little, you both move over to the side of the court where there is a seating area. without hesitation, he spins you around and bends you over the seat. you giggle at his sudden movements, feeling as he slips his hand up your skirt again, only this time to move your panties to the side.
he rubs your pussy a bit, “mhm’ so wet for me” he says, making you moan a bit louder when he slips two fingers in you. your own hand covers your mouth, while the other kept you held up. “now, now, don’t make them hear you” rafe lets out a laugh as a huff through his nose, and you put your head down in embarrassment.
“mmm” you hum at the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you. “that’s it, baby, you like that?” he asks, smirking and loving the sound of your wet pussy. “y-yes… god” you shut your eyes and leave your mouth agape. if his fingers were enough to please you, how does his cock feel?
“you want my dick, princess? hm?” he asks, softly raising the pitch in his voice. “mhm.. please” you nod, making his smirk grow bigger though you can’t see his face.
“you wanna take me like this, from behind?” he asks, seeing you nod again. “atta’ girl” he pulls his fingers out of you, slapping your ass and making you jolt before he begins pulling his shorts down a bit, allowing his long, hard dick to spring out.
he moves more forward, rubbing his tip along your wet folds, making you let out a long hum. “i need it…” you say after he teases your pussy for a while. “you need it?” he asks. “yeah, please..” you beg.
he wastes no time to fulfil your needs. he positions himself near your entrance, slightly pushing the tip in before grabbing your hips with both hands, pulling you back whilst thrusting forward, making him instantly slam into you. you cover your mouth again, squeezing it this time. you couldn’t stay quiet, not with rafe inside of you.
“stay quiet, doll, y’don’t wanna get caught, do you?” he asks, knowing the obvious answer. “fuck… i- i can’t…” you moan underneath your hand, but it wasn’t quiet enough. rafe takes over, nudging your hand out the way to grip your mouth for you.
his grip was hard, but it was making a difference. your moans are muffled, only being able to breathe through your nose now. you grab his hand with yours, holding onto it as he fucks you rough.
the odd few sounds of cars driving past, windows slamming and dogs barking caught you off guard. “relax, doll” he tells you, shushing you as he removes his hand from your mouth to grab a fistful of your hair instead. you moan, covering your mouth with your hand again. you seriously didn’t want your parents to hear you, but boy, was rafe making it so difficult.
“fuck… i love you, pretty girl” he lets out a moan, gripping your hair tighter as he thrusts deeper into you. “i… i love you more—” you struggle to say in between deep breaths caused by his pace. “impossible.” he chuckles, showing his perfect teeth as he pounds into you from behind.
you let out some muffled moans underneath your hand, making rafe smirk and admire how he has you acting. reaching your hand down the front of your skirt to rub your clit made rafe harder than he already was. he loves it so much when you touch yourself in front of him.
“fuck, that’s it, princess… rub your pussy f’me,” he moans, thrusting into you at a perfect pace to hear your mumbled but pornographic moans. “mhmmm..” you hum, rubbing your clit at a fast speed.
he keeps fucking into you, hard and fast, both of you getting sloppier and wetter by the minute. “fuck rafe… i— i feel so close” you close your eyes, roughly gripping onto the seat you’re bent over.
“fuckk, let it go, princess” he tells you, rolling his eyes into the back of his head at how amazing you feel. “i… i am” you moan, your body starting to shake as you come on his cock. he keeps going, thrusting back and forth, in and out of you, feeling and seeing your juices leak out from the sides of his length inside you.
just seconds later, he finishes too, right inside of you. luckily, you’re on birth control. you both ride out your highs for a few moments, before he slowly pulls out of you. “fuck, ‘ts a little messy” he laughs, watching as his cum leaks out of your pussy and down your thigh.
“rafe, help” you quietly laugh, staying bent over the chair as he quickly looks for something to wipe you with. there’s nothing around, so he takes his shirt off and wipes your dripping pussy with it, “rafe, is that your shirt?” you ask, turning to look over your shoulder.
“it was the only thing i could use, alright?” he laughs it off, wiping away the cum that was dripping down your legs. after quickly cleaning yourselves up, with rafe’s shirt, unfortunately, you both head back inside to change into your normal clothes and out of your tennis ones.
walking into the house hand in hand with rafe, you walk past your mom and dad in the kitchen. “have fun playing tennis?” your mom asks with a smile as she prepares dinner. “yeah, i won” you turn around and giggle as your parents laugh, watching you flick your hair to show off. “yeah, yeah, i’ll practice more. you gotta’ teach me some time, mrs y/l/n.” he says to your mom as you both walk up the stairs. “of course, sweetheart” your mom smiles.
“aww, if only she knew how much of a slut you were… for me, not tennis.” he whispers in your ear as you get to the top of the stairs, both laughing as you enter your bedroom together.
SMUT SMUT SMUTTTTTT😩😩😩 3rd piece of work uploaded in ONE DAY? go me hahahahah. HOPE YA ENJOY I LOVE YALLLLLL <33 NOT PROOFREAD BTW. I’M IN A RUSH I GTG
@cameronluvr
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◊ title — scent (phase 2)
◊ pairing — zhongli/morax x f!reader
◊ wc — 3.3k
◊ notes — guys. the way it took so long to write this bc horny. sorry not sorry. hopefully you'll find that it was worth the wait. also, i lied. this will be a 4-part series (not a 3-parter) - the ideas are coming faster than i can get them out. how fitting that i finally finished this on mother's day - just a fortunate coincidence.
◊ be warned — nsfw. mdni. feral!zhongli/morax. heat/rut. dragon features/anatomy/instincts. oral/tongue fucking (f. rcv'ing). squirting. cum drinking. rough, animalistic sex. biting/marking. knotting. breeding. scent marking. light aftercare.
← phase 1 ◊ phase 3 (wip)
...end of phase 2 (48 hours before you ovulate)...
“hey babe!” you greet your husband cheerfully while closing the door with your foot.
zhongli is sitting at the little breakfast nook that sits adjacent to your kitchen, reading a book and enjoying a cup of his favorite afternoon tea. he’s so engrossed in his novel that he doesn’t look up, just answers you with a low hum as you set the shopping bags down on the countertop. he’s mid-sip when you lean down and give him an innocent little peck on the cheek. his teacup is still pressed to his bottom lip when you twirl around and walk away from him to start putting groceries away.
he’s still looking at the book that he holds in his ungloved hand, but is oblivious to the words in front of him. his gaze slowly lifts from the pages, looking over the top of the book to watch you move around the kitchen, putting the provisions in their respective places. you’re wearing those cute little shorts and he’s willing to bet mora that you’re not wearing anything underneath if the intensity of your scent is anything to go by.
you bend over to place a couple of items in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, unwittingly giving him a little peep show when the crease of your butt cheeks peek out from underneath those scandalous shorts. zhongli is looking closely, and sure enough, you’re not wearing any panties. what began as a small spark of heat at the base of his spine when you gave him that innocent kiss a minute ago has been ignited and is now a raging wildfire that is rapidly spreading to his loins.
you’re fertile. he can smell it, and the delicious scent of your heat has triggered his rut. it’s not something he has any control over. similarly to how he’s clenching his jaw, he’s only partially cognizant of it.
he just instinctively knows that you smell of unhad sex.
and he must have you. he must fill you with his musk and scent you. but before he does any of that, the ghost of your earthy scent is haunting the back of his tongue.
first, he must taste you.
you say something but it’s gibberish to him when all he can hear, see, smell, or taste is your heat. it must’ve started somewhere around mid-day. when he woke up next to you this morning, he could faintly smell you, which is typical. but now he is all but drowning in the rich, ripe scent of your pussy. and you aren’t even aroused yet.
but if zhongli has anything to do with it, that’s about to change.
deep down he knows that you need to be wet to receive his cock. more than that, though, he wants to smell your arousal.
you’re still busying yourself with putting away groceries, humming the song that’s been stuck in your head all afternoon, having no idea that your husband’s dick is hard, his balls are aching, and he’s about .58 seconds away from bending you over the nearest surface.
“what would you like for dinner tonight, li?” you ask, standing on your tippy toes to reach the top shelf in your pantry. but he’s too ensnared by your creamy thighs to have noticed; he couldn’t hear you over the blood pumping furiously through his veins. when you don’t get a reply, you turn around to look at him. “li?”
he blinks and clears his throat. “wh-what?”
you repeat the question, to which he stammers out a response while loosening his tie. “whatever you want is f- fine with me, dear.”
you close the pantry door and furrow your brow at him, noting his flushed complexion. he appeared to be perfectly fine a minute ago. “zhongli, are you feeling okay?” you fret, making your way over to him. at his age, he could be having a heart attack or something… “darling, you look feverish…are you coming down with something?”
you bring your hand to his forehead. he’s burning up. you’re close to him again - too close - and you’re ripe for the picking.
before he fully realizes what he’s doing, he quickly stands up, the legs of his chair skidding across the tiled floor. your eyes go wide when he grabs you by the waist and in one swift movement, your ass and thighs are unceremoniously dropped onto the surface of the small dining table in front of him. your mouth opens, but before you can say anything, it’s filled with the former archon’s tongue.
his kiss is fierce, raw. animalistic even. there’s no romance behind it, only sheer need and passion. you feel like he’ll eat you alive…but he’s only just begun. as his hot muscle swirls around yours, he wedges himself between your legs, forcing them apart with his hips. his hands are everywhere - groping, pulling, pushing: your neck, your tits, your waist, your thighs. unable to get a word in edgewise, you whine into his mouth and he finally pulls away, mouth still open with a thread of saliva connecting your lips.
“zh- hahh-” you whimper when you feel his teeth on your neck.
he’s not biting you (yet). he’s merely keeping you where he wants you while he brands you with his mark. you wonder what’s gotten into him as his hand massages your naked thigh. he’s only like this when you-
oh.
has it been two weeks already? it seems like only yesterday that the two of you were talking about maybe starting a family.
a little mewl escapes your lips as the thought hazily occurs to you that you haven’t kept up with your cycle. but it’s okay…you haven’t had to because he has.
knowing your husband’s draconic rut has been triggered by your heat sends a pang of desire shooting to your core and you moan for him. his mating pheromones go undetected by your human sense of smell; however, the reptilian part of your brain is pinging like crazy, telling your body it’s time to breed.
you’re frantically working to unbutton his shirt, your bare legs encircling his hips, but he pries them apart again with a low grunt. he hooks his hands behind your knees, making you yelp when you’re jerked forward, his forgotten teacup rattling against its saucer when your back hits the table. he’s looking down at you, lips parted, eyes glowing, dark scales appearing briefly above his open collar before diminishing again - evidence that as feral as he seems right now, he’s still able to hold himself back…for now.
zhongli never breaks eye contact with you when he curls his brilliantly glowing fingers into the waistband of your shorts, his rich amber eyes boring into your very soul as his chest rises and falls. he yanks on the cloth barrier so hard you hear the stitching surrender to his power as your ass is forced upwards off the wooden surface.
the scent of your pussy is filling every one of his senses…it’s almost all he can even feel. he’s dying to taste you. needs to taste you as though your slick is holy water and he is a sinner. inside his tented pants, zhongli’s cock is glowing, leaking, throbbing. there’s a dark spot forming on the cloth as proof. he needs to shove his readied cock inside you like the desert needs rain, but first he’s dying to drink you. your scent is so palpable he can taste you on the back of his tongue and it’s driving him insane.
beads of sweat are collecting at his hairline as he picks up where you left off with unbuttoning his shirt. but he quickly loses patience and tears it away from his shoulders with a clipped growl, a couple of buttons flying off and landing gods know where in the process. he’s shirtless now, his beautiful arms glowing and carbon black scales emerging on the tops of his shoulders.
he pushes your thighs back towards your chest and lowers his face to your cunt. he just hovers there for a moment and breathes you in, his eyes rolling back in his head as they flutter closed. the distinct scent of your arousal combined with your readiness to breed sends a new rush of blood to his cock and it jumps in his pants.
“zhongli…please…” you keen for him, and he drops to his knees to worship at your altar.
normally, he’d take his time with you - ghost his lips along your inner thighs, kiss around your labia, tease you just a little. but he doesn’t have the patience for that right now.
he descends on your cunt, his open, watering mouth latching onto your aching clit, his long tongue circling it for a moment before he plunges it inside you.
gods, your flavor.
he tongue fucks you, filling you with a long, deep moan because you taste so fucking good to him. your hands fly to his earth-colored hair - something to ground you while he devours you. you can feel the hitch of his hot breath on your labia, not knowing that the golden tip of his cock is glowing and rubbing deliciously against the rough material of his trousers as he rocks his pelvis into nothing. pulling his tongue out, he licks a long, wide stripe up to your clit again.
you hear your name in his deep, even voice and open your eyes. “look at me when i’m eating your cunt,” he commands, and you comply. far be it from you to go against your husband’s - your god’s - wishes.
zhongli’s diamond-shaped pupils have been replaced by serpentine slits that hold your gaze while he sucks your soul from your hard bud, growling and tugging at it with the suction of his lips as his hips jerk, rubbing the moist head of his cock against the front seam of his slacks.
“hhhh~ li…fuck, feels so good baby, yes…” you praise him, but he already knows how good he’s making you feel. your husband mastered your body long ago. he knows your tells, the meaning behind every little sound you make. he can anticipate the way your body will move before he even touches you. but more than that, he can smell your growing lust.
he hums in appreciation and gives your clit several hard flicks with his flexed tongue, making you whine before thrusting his long, wet muscle into your pussy again. you buck your hips against his face, but his strong hands are spread over the backs of your thighs, holding them back. he curls his tongue inside you, pulling it along your walls, lapping at your juices.
you lightly pinch your nipples, rolling them between your fingers and pulling on them gently as zhongli returns his attention to your throbbing clit. he flicks it then flattens his tongue and drags it up and down, back and forth, the texture of his tastebuds rough against your tight little bundle of nerves. at the same time, you feel two of his fingers press against your hole.
“ohh- oh fuck, li!” you whine for him as he slips them inside, working them knuckle-deep in search of the spot that he knows so, so well. he finds it quickly with great ease, and begins massaging it with his fingertips while his lips and tongue work your clit over.
his hair is a mess in your hands; you’re a mess on your dining table. you can feel the cocktail of your need and your husband’s spit trickle down to your ass crack, knowing you’re about to make a mess in his mouth. but that’s exactly what he wants. he doubles down and starts tugging on your g-spot, moaning when he feels you tightening around his fingers.
zhongli knows you’re close, so close.
he continues to hump the air reflexively, sucking your clit harder, pulling it deeper between his wet lips as though he’s trying to swallow you whole.
“haahhh!” you gasp. “fuck, baby!” you fist his dark brown locks between your fingers. “zhongli…ohgodyou’regonnamakemecum!”
he releases your clit with a wet pop and you feel your abused little pearl being flicked furiously back and forth over the tip of his sinfully skilled tongue. your head rolls back on the table, briefly glimpsing your kitchen behind you before you squeeze your eyes closed.
your pelvis is rocking helplessly against your husband’s soaked face but his lips are latched securely around your clit when your cum squirts inside his waiting mouth. his brow knits and he groans against you as he swallows again and again, drinking you down to the last drop. it makes him impossibly harder and his aching testicles are heavy, full of his sperm that he needs to release inside you.
with his craving for your juices temporarily sated, the raging need in zhongli's loins is now fueling his prime directive:
breed.
he stands and lifts you up, bringing you to your feet before spinning you around and pushing your chest down onto the table. you whimper, pussy clenching at zhongli's show of physical power. your pebbled nipples rake across the surface below when he ruts his hips against your butt, and you can finally appreciate just how hard he is. he could’ve taken you on your back, but he’s primally driven and compelled beyond reason to mount you from behind.
zhongli the funeral consultant now more closely resembles morax the god of old. he’s even starting to show signs of his dragon form and operating purely on instinct at this point. your scent has become more complex, nuanced - the way you smell when you’re approaching fertility combined with your arousal, and now the mixture of his saliva and your cum…
there’s only one scent missing.
from behind you comes the tinkling of his belt buckle and the sound of his zipper. zhongli pushes his pants down just far enough to free his cock and testicles before he’s bending over you. you know his fangs have emerged when you feel them drag lightly across the back of your neck. his breath is hot and his cock is so hard, bouncing eagerly against your wet folds, drooling precum onto the floor below.
he spreads your ass apart with his strong radiant hands, kneading and pushing and squeezing bruises into your soft, sensitive flesh. you keen, bending lower, arching your back as you fold your arms and rest the side of your face on the hard surface beneath you.
“zhong- hhhn fuck…” is all you can manage when the tip of his erection bumps against your clit. gods, the way your scent hits him when you beg him to put his cock in.
his cockhead bounces along your slit a few more times before it finally catches on your hole and he thrusts in hard with a low grunt. the way it glides in, hard and slippery because you’re so ready for your mate to claim you, preening and presenting for him like a cat in heat.
his jaw flexes at the way you choke on your cries when your hip bones dig into the edge of the surface he’s fucking you into. it hurts, and there will be bruises later, but you can’t bring yourself to stop or slow him down. his cock feels too good filling you up so full, tugging at your gushy walls, the ridge of his cockhead peeking out every time he retreats, then splitting you apart when his hips slam against your ass again.
he hunches over you, fully mounting you, his tail having emerged and wrapping around your leg to hike it up and hold your bent knee out to the side so he can break your pussy off harder, deeper. your cheeks are streaked with wet eyeliner when the fuzzy tip of his tail tickles your clit, your juices getting it wet.
zhongli isn’t fucking you anymore - morax is the one driving his fat cock into your squelching cunt now. there are those who would clutch their pearls at the idea of being bent over a table and fucked by an archon, but your eyes are rolling back in your head at the feeling of being spread open by his celestial dick. for you, it’s a matter of course. he’s your husband - you’ve been in love with him for years and you adore him in every one of his iterations, even if you have your own special ways of worshiping him.
your feral god-husband’s vividly glowing arms are wrapped tightly around your sweaty chest, the wooden legs of your dining table scuffing the floor as he grunts in your ear. “fuck, that’s my good girl. taking my cock so well. so ready to take my seed, yeah?…”
“y-yes! need your cum, morax! breed me, my lord hahh~”
he loves it when you call him by his ancient name. it reminds him that he’s still got it - the power and virility of his youth. he swears under his breath, digging his talons into your hips as he yanks you back on his cock. it’s too much. it’s too much and he feels his balls pull tighter against his body when he growls and snarls behind you. you whimper at the feeling of his knot swelling deep inside you, knowing it’s forcing your walls open so he can pump you full of his sperm. he opens his mouth and bites down on the back of your neck with a deep, guttural growl.
you cry out the god’s name again and again, chanting for him, urging him to cum for you as his big, scaly tail tightens around your trembling thigh. the soft tuft of orange fur at the tip is matted with your juices. it licks and lashes against your clit as his humanoid hips dig into the plush of your ass, snapping against you in fits and starts.
“ohh-oh, morax, gonna cum for you!”
dark brown scales shimmer and separate along his spine as it curls with every frantic pump of his pelvis.
“that’s it, my dear. cum on my cock…now!” he orders.
you tense and throw it back on him as you fall apart on his cock. his balls contract in their sac as you milk his ready, sensitive length, choking on your own sobs of his archon name when he throws his head back with a roar and cums hard. the first ribbon of his divine seed splashes against your clenching walls, his cock jerking violently as he empties his full balls deep inside your womb, coating your messy insides with his hot, sticky semen.
◊ ◊ ◊
his sweaty chest is heaving against your back, his lungs filling and collapsing as the waves of his orgasm slowly fade. you can feel the heat of his labored breath as he licks and kisses the bite marks on the back of your neck, making you coo at him for soothing the pain. your husband can smell the oxytocin as it floods your brain; he instinctively knows to remain close to you in these crucial moments of bonding. dragons mate for life, so he’s biologically coded to crave the loving attachment just as much as you do.
nuzzling his nose behind your ear, zhongli mutters his love and appreciation for you, making you smile weakly with the side of your face still resting on the table. he leaves lazy kisses on your neck and you feel his smile against your moist skin when you tell him how happy it would make you to be the mother of his young.
he still has a full erection, his balls filling up with more seed. he’ll need to release again soon. he slowly pulls out of you, a mess of his cum and your slick spilling onto the floor below when the bulbous head of his cock pops out of your tight ring.
you’re jolted from your dreamy afterglow, eyes opening wide as you yelp, suddenly finding yourself being carried bridal style towards your bedroom. now that he has scented you with his musk, zhongli wants to take you to your shared nest where he can begin breeding you in earnest. he can sense that you’re still hours away from ovulation, but he’s going to keep your womb so swollen with his seed, so full of billions of his sperm - ready and waiting to swarm your fertile egg the moment it drops.
← phase 1 ◊ phase 3 (wip)
◊ zhongli/morax m.list
this is dedicated to my zhongli sisterwife @crystalflygeo whose utterly fearless, shameless style of writing has filled my morax spank bank inspired me to write with bold and wild abandon. i can't even fully fathom the sheer number of ideas this wonderful human being has filled my head with. we share (1) singular zhongli brain cell and i love her with my whole heart. she literally begged me to write this fic so you all have her to thank for it.
#zhongli#morax#zhongli x f!reader#morax x f!reader#zhongli x reader#morax x reader#zhongli x y/n#morax x y/n#zhongli x you#morax x you#zhongli smut#morax smut#genshin x f!reader#genshin x reader#genshin x y/n#genshin x you#genshin smut#genshin impact x f!reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x y/n#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut
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Beach Daddy V. Stay
daddy!joel miller x f!reader
series masterlist • masterlist
wordcount: 15,628
summary: You find yourself caught in a whirlwind of passion and scandal with Joel, while a mysterious blackmailer threatens to expose your secret romance. And other drama.
warnings: 18+, age gap, just the tip unprotected 👀, dramaaaa, sweet bby Reggie 😘
notes: But that gif (from pinterest tysm to Whomever the Creator is) is exactly how Joel looks when he steps out of his car, searching. ty @saradika-graphics as always for the divider
Standing in his bedroom, after your confession to him about Todd being your ex, Joel kisses you.
He's gentle at first. Then, before you know it, you're locked together, his tongue gently teasing you to open your mouth until your lips part, and he pushes between your lips with an urgency that has your skin tingling and your core lighting on fire. His fingers set the skin of your cheek ablaze.
Your heart drums in your chest at the anticipation in the air at your closeness. You are so close that you can almost feel the sharp edges of his stubble that has dusted his face as the day grows to a close. Releasing your lips, he whispers, “I can't imagine not knowing you, darlin'.” His breath is warm against your lips. The small vibrations send waves of energy through your entire body. Goosebumps prickle your arms. The sweet smell of cinnamon on his breath, and his sandalwood cologne, mingle perfectly together.
The sensation is too much for you to bear, so you close your eyes, letting Joel take over, as you try desperately to etch every second of the moment into your memory. “I can't imagine not knowing you either, Joel,” you say breathlessly, your eyelashes fluttering with anticipation.
He presses his lips softly to yours, the heat of your lips combining. The warmth spreads through your entire body, even to your bare feet against the cold tile floor. As softly as it started, you want to feel the pressure of his strong arms around you, crushing you against his muscled torso. You lean into Joel's chest, his muscles so tight they are unmoving. He responds to you by sliding his hand up your back and pressing you to him. His lips match the sudden intensity, and you part yours, and he pulls your bottom lip between his. You hold back a moan as he softly bites your bottom lip, but you can't help your hand making their way into Joel's hair. As your fingers slip through the softness of his perfectly styled locks, the scent of sandalwood intensifies.
Before you can register the change, Joel's hand, which had started out on the side of your face, is cradling under your butt, and Joel pulls you even closer to him. You feel the thumping of his chest as your body rests against his, and you deepen your kiss. You can feel the hardness of him between your legs and pull yourself closer, unable to keep your body from satisfying your craving for him.
Time feels as though it stands still as Joel holds you to him, your hands lost in his hair. Just as quickly as it had all started, the moment shatters. His cell phone beeping is deafening against the silence of the room and breaks you out of your entangled trance. Your feet hit the floor, the cold tile shocking you back to reality. You both stand there for a moment, breathing hard, your hearts racing as you try to come back to reality.
“Darlin', I am so sorry. I lost control of myself for a second,” Joel says.
You wish he'd lose control more often.
You touch your hand to your mouth, where his lips had just been. You ache at the absence of him. He runs his hands through his already mussed hair and takes a few steps back from you. “That's okay,” you say, trying desperately to catch your breath. It takes all you have not to run back into his arms. Doesn't he sense that the feeling is mutual? You want him just as badly as he wants you. Maybe more so.
“Let me turn this off so we can talk-” Joel's face falls as he takes his phone from his pocket and reads the text message on the screen.
“Is everything okay?” you ask, watching the worry lines reappear between Joel's eyebrows.
“I’m so sorry. I have to deal with this,” he says, swiping his finger across the screen.
“I will leave you to it,” you say, walking toward the door. You need to be alone to understand what has just happened between you anyway.
What have you just done with your friend's dad?
“We will talk about this, about us, I promise,” Joel says, looking longingly into your eyes before turning back to his phone. “Bruce, what did you find out?” Joel says into the phone. That is your cue to leave.
You silently pick up your shoes next to the door and slip out into the hallway. You close the door softly, silently clicking the latch into place. You lean against Joel's door, listening to his muffled voice as he talks on the phone. Even through the door, you can tell that whatever the news is, it isn't good. Laughter sounds at the opposite end of the hall. Knowing what it would look like to come out of Joel's room, shoes in hand, you retreat away from his room and the approaching voices. The last thing you need is for Sarah to think you have slept with her father.
Your feet patter against the marble flooring in the hallway. You consider going back to your room, but you know you won't be able to sleep after the kisses you've just shared with Joel. You feel like you need to make an appearance back at the party before Sarah notices your absence at the same time that her father is gone. However, you can't seem to catch your breath, so you walk as slowly as possible back to the kitchen. You stand for a long time, watching people laughing, dancing, and raising their drinks in silent speeches you can't hear. Your mind is still too caught up in what has happened with Joel.
Eventually, you open one of the kitchen doors to the back patio, and the engagement party is still in full swing. Clearly, no one has noticed Joel and you heading into the house together. You are thankful for that, at least. You should've known you wouldn't be missed by this crowd. You spot Todd with Sarah and make sure you are out of their eyesight quickly. You grab a glass of champagne and lean against the wall by the pool looking out at the ocean. It feels like you can still feel the tingle of Joel's lips against yours. You feel good, despite the toxic situation with Todd. Joel is clearly as attracted to you as you are to him. You replay your kiss over and over in your mind. You still can't believe it's happened. Finally.
But then, what does this all mean? You still have so many questions…
You finish your drink and set the empty glass on a table, turning to walk toward the kitchen when you hear someone yell.
“Cannonball!”
A man with long brown hair splashes into the infinity pool, soaking you in the process. You watch the ripples disturb the surface of the pool and water spill out the edges. You leave quickly, before the man reemerges and retreat back inside as a wave of laughter hits your back.
“Is this whole trip taking every opportunity to slap me in the face?” you mumble to yourself, taking off your heels again as you head for the stairs. You leave a dripping trail of water all the way to your room. You can't help but remember walking into AmoreBelle in a similar state when Joel had bought you the dress in the first place.
You hang your cocktail dress to dry in the shower, hoping that it isn't ruined. Maybe you will send it to the dry cleaners when you return to New York. You have no idea how to care for a dress so nice. You know if you try to clean it yourself, you are sure to ruin it. The smell of chlorine that clings to your skin nudges you toward the pedestal bathtub at the far end of the bathroom. You turn on the tap and let the steam from the hot water fill the room. You grab a glass of water and turn on some music. Slipping inside the warm embrace of the water, you are instantly taken back to the heat of Joel's body pressed to yours. Your lips press delicately against his. The feel of your body wound tightly around his. The way he smelled. He was intoxicating. You can't believe you've just kissed Joel. You've thought about it a few dozen times, always talking yourself out of it because he is your friend's father, but no amount of imagination could compare to those few blissful minutes. He was so much more than you'd imagined.
A text flashes on your phone, which you've set on a towel next to the tub. You dry your hands and pick up your phone to find a text from Lin waiting for you.
Lin: There was a last-minute cancellation on a flight out tomorrow. Do you want us to change your booking for you? I can still meet you at the airport to pick you up. Let us know ASAP.
This afternoon you would have texted Lin back instantly, begging for her to get you on the soonest flight out of here. However, that was before your shared moment with Joel. Even with Todd being here and constantly trying to get you to sleep with him, you don't know if you want to leave. “What would he think if I jetted off the day after we kissed?” you ask the ceiling of the bathroom.
You sink lower, covering half of your face in the warm water. The water has completely cooled when you've finally made up your mind. You drain it out of the tub, and with pruny fingers, type out a response to Lin.
You: I need one more day. Something big happened. I will explain everything when I get back. See you in two days.
You can't leave yet. You've just let Joel know how much he's come to mean to you. How can you leave now? You've wanted this for longer than you've let yourself admit. You've wanted this since the first time you saw him. You have to see Joel one more time before you leave. If you leave now, you'll never know what might happen between you. You're not willing to risk that, not to escape Todd or Sarah's wealthy friends. You have to talk to Joel; you have to know what this is.
"Bruce. What did you find out?" Joel asks the head of his security team, his voice betraying none of the turmoil he feels inside.
"We have reason to believe that Blaine knows your current location in the Bahamas, sir," Bruce's voice echoes on the other end of the phone.
Joel looks up when the door clicks shut; you've slipped away during his eagerness to call Bruce. He feels like a complete ass. He kissed you, and then, mere seconds later, he was on the phone, his attention elsewhere.
"Sir?" Bruce's voice pulls Joel back to the present.
"I'm sorry, Bruce. What did you say?"
"We are worried about your security measures in the Bahamas. You have no one with you from the team. Please tell me you have been activating the security system we had installed."
Joel has completely forgotten about the security system in the rush of preparing for Sarah's engagement party. He'll have to remember to set that after they get off the phone.
"How do you know that Blaine knows where we are?" Joel asks, his mind already racing with the implications.
Seconds later, his phone buzzes against his ear. Joel puts Bruce on speaker so that he can read the incoming messages. He's sent him multiple screenshots of Sarah's social media pages. There are at least ten posts in the last three days, all pictures of her on the beach or lounging out on the yacht. In the last message is a picture of the Bahama beach house with the caption "Engagement Party at Daddy's!"
"Shit," Joel mutters under his breath.
"She has been documenting her every move, and in turn, documenting yours as well."
"I should have known she would be posting. She never stops."
"It would be wise, sir, to advise your daughter to stop posting, at least for the time being."
"That, unfortunately, won’t happen. Sarah has made social media her career. She will never agree to stop posting."
"Even if it is putting you and your entire family at risk?"
"She doesn't know about Blaine, and it's going to stay that way," Joel says bluntly.
"Of course, sir."
"What do you suggest I do?" Joel asks, his mind already half-focused on finding you.
"Is it possible to head to a new destination? We may have caught this early enough that you can leave before Blaine finds a way to get to the Bahamas."
"I’ll see what I can do. I likely won't be able to make that kind of arrangement, though. I have a house full of guests at the moment."
"I understand, sir. Should I send a few members of my team to you?"
"I really don't think that is necessary," Joel says, hating the idea of having any of his bodyguards follow him everywhere while he's on vacation. He gets enough of that at home. He also selfishly knows that he and you likely wouldn't get another moment alone if he agreed.
"I wish you'd let us send someone out just to watch the perimeter at least," Bruce says with a sigh. "I'm just a call away if you change your mind. I'll have some of my men on standby."
"Thank you, Bruce. I will let you know." Joel hangs up the phone and resumes pacing his bedroom. It feels excruciatingly empty after you left. He starts to make his way towards the door to go and find you when his phone rings again.
"Alester," he says, answering the call.
"Good evening, sir. I am so sorry to bother you during your daughter's engagement party," Alester says.
"Alester, you know I am never too busy to talk to you," Joel says with a laugh. No one knows better than Alester just how much of a lie that is. He is always too busy.
"I just got off the phone with the security team. Have you talked with Bruce yet?"
"Yes, I actually just got off the phone with him."
"Oh, good, then you probably know more than I do. I just wanted to call and assure you that your accounts have all been secured. I also went over your father's will again with a fine tooth comb, and it is just as I expected, airtight."
"Thank you, Alester. That brings me a lot of peace of mind."
"Just be careful, Joel. It sounds like Blaine will stop at nothing to bring down the Millers."
"Honestly, it would be a waste for him to come here. I have nothing on me of any value to him. He would be smarter to wait until I am back in New York. If he does show up here, there is nothing he can take from me."
"Just be careful, sir. If Blaine realizes that he won't be able to get money, he will likely go after something else."
"What could he possibly go after, other than my money?" Joel asks, curious as to what Alester is referring to.
"Your reputation," Alester says with obvious anxiety in his voice.
"You make a good point, Alester. This is exactly why I depend on you so much. I will be on high alert."
"Take care, Joel."
Joel hangs up the phone and tosses it onto his bed, not wanting to deal with anything more for the rest of the night. The soft thump of the phone on the mattress breaks the silence of the very empty room.
The realization that you had left, and that he had let you, hits him in the stomach. Joel places his palms over his eyes, and the first thing that comes to mind is you and your kiss. The memory of your eyelids as they delicately fluttered shut right before his lips met yours. He can almost feel the heat of your body pressed up against his and the perfect curve of your ass as he pulled you up to him. He needs to find you. You'd told him your truth about Todd, and now it was his turn to tell you his truth. He needs to explain that it was his bastard brother who ruined their moment.
Your touch must have addled his brain; it was the only logical explanation he could find as to why he would let you walk out of his room. How could he have let you walk away, especially after a kiss like that? Joel is desperate to find you and makes his way out of his room and down the hallway, even knowing his hair is in a state of disarray. He can't waste time fixing it; he also doesn't want to mess with your handiwork.
He makes his way back to the party, hoping that you had come back there. He scans the sea of drunken people, searching for you. A flash of red gets his hopes up, but they quickly fall as the woman turns around. The red-haired woman does not hold a candle to you.
"Daddy!" Sarah squeals, catching sight of him.
"Sarah, sweetheart. Are you having a nice time?" Joel says as he tries to seem as interested as he can. Even though he is desperate to cut the conversation short and find you. He knows the longer he lets their moment pass, the harder it will be to get it back.
"It is absolutely amazing, Daddy. Have you tried the Sarah lemon drop?" she asks, but she shoves a drink into his hand, not waiting for his response. The next thing he knows she is hitting the side of his glass with a fork, getting the crowd's attention. "My Daddy, who was sweet enough to throw this amazing party for me and my fiance, would like to give a speech in our honor," Sarah says, her voice raised to the entire crowd.
Nothing quite like being put on the spot. However, Joel knows that if Sarah wants it, she will stop at nothing to get it. He can't help but wonder if his daughter had purposely set her sights on Todd, knowing he was not single. Sadly, he knows better than to think she isn't capable of such a thing.
"Thank you, Sarah, for that wonderful introduction. I would like to welcome you all to my home and thank you for taking the time to celebrate my beautiful daughter and her future husband," Joel says, holding his glass up to the couple, and the crowd follows, raising their drinks too. He can't think of anything complimentary to say about Todd, so he decides to focus on the good aspects of his daughter's character. However, that proves to be more difficult than he had originally thought. "Sarah has always known how to get exactly what she wants." Shit, that sounded harsh. "So I know that because she has put her heart into having a happy marriage, that is exactly what will happen for her. I wish all the best to my one and only daughter." The crowd claps at the wrap-up of his speech, and Joel hopes he has pulled it off without upsetting Sarah.
"Thank you, Daddy!" Sarah says, pecking a small kiss on his cheek. He guesses he hadn't blundered too badly.
"Where is Todd?" Joel asks Sarah, surprised to see that he is not by her side.
"Oh, I'm not sure. I've been having so much fun, I lost track of him," Sarah says with a shrug, not seeming worried.
"Well, let me know if you need anything, sweetheart, but I think I’m going to turn in for the night. I'm not young enough to keep up with you and your friends."
"One more thing before you go. We need to discuss the budget for my wedding. I need to contact this wedding dress designer if I am going to get one of their dresses in time, but it is a fifty-thousand dollar deposit to hold my spot."
Not wanting to get into a conversation about wedding budgets when he desperately needs to find you, Joel tells Sarah, "Whatever you need, honey."
Sarah squeals her usual high-pitched, bird-scaring squeak, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"We can discuss the details later," Joel says and walks back inside. He looks around and is relieved that the house seems to be empty, so he makes his way up to the second floor and your door.
He knocks quietly, but there is no response.
"Damn it," Joel says, fearing you are ignoring him on purpose.
He presses his ear to the door and hears running water, and he guesses that you are taking a bath. He wishes he could be in there with you, feeling your naked body against his. He sighs and pulls out a piece of gum, popping it in his mouth and pulling a pen out of the inside pocket of his jacket.
On the small bit of hope that you aren't ignoring him but simply can't hear him, Joel writes a note on the gum wrapper and slips it under your door.
I can't stop thinking about you or that kiss. I will find you tomorrow, so we can talk.
-J.
You wake up on top of the king-sized bed in your cotton robe, having apparently fallen asleep right after getting out of the tub the night before. You didn't even make it under the covers. Your stomach growls, prompting you to get up and pull yourself together.
After applying some light makeup, you select a strappy sundress from your new vacation wardrobe and head for the door. Your bare feet come into contact with a slip of paper someone has slid under your door at some point during the night. Even without recognizing the neat handwriting from his previous note, you know it's from Joel. You can't help but smile at the thought of being on his mind. You carefully place the note with the other and the small pink seashell before making your way down to the kitchen.
The house is completely silent; everyone is probably still in bed, nursing a hangover. You're glad that you'll get to spend the morning by yourself. It gives you plenty of time to wrap your head around your own feelings. You quietly navigate the kitchen and make yourself an omelet. It feels nice to fend for yourself for a meal rather than having it brought to you on a silver platter. While some aspects of this life are extremely appealing, there's something fulfilling about making your own meal. You plate the omelet and find a quiet spot on the patio to watch the waves as you enjoy your breakfast in silence. As you take the last bite, you hear a clatter of moving dishes behind you, signaling that others are up, so you leave your plate and walk towards the private beach. You've already explored your way down toward the gazebo, so you decide to venture in the opposite direction instead. The chirps of birds are your only company on your walk down the beach, and slowly the sand leads you to a secluded cove surrounded by pine trees and rocky ledges.
The water is still and so clear you can see the schools of brightly colored fish swimming beneath the surface. You wade into the water to your ankles, but on a whim, you take a quick look around to make sure you're alone before slipping the dress from your shoulders and throwing it onto the dry sand, followed by your lace bra and panties. You slip slowly under the water's surface, and the fish scatter around you. You swim lazily through the water, daydreaming about Joel. You can't wait to talk to him later, and hopefully to kiss him again.
"You're braver than you look."
You jump and move to cover yourself before realizing who it is. Joel stands on the beach watching you tread water, clearly enjoying the view.
"What are you doing here? I thought I was alone," you say, trying your best to hide yourself under the water.
"I saw footsteps in the sand on the beach; I assumed you would be the only one up already. So I took a chance and followed them. I didn't expect to find you like this, though," Joel says with a small laugh and a mischievous grin.
He turns around to give you privacy, likely thinking you'll get out of the water and get dressed. Instead, you swim up to where he stands at the edge of the water and splash him. He leaps forward and turns around again, a smile finding his lips.
"Are you going to be brave?" you taunt, not knowing what's gotten into you that day. You swim backward, daring him to come after you.
Joel slowly unbuttons his shirt and slips off his perfectly fitting shorts until he's standing there with nothing on but the wind at his back. You can't help but stare at him standing naked on the shore. He follows you into the water, although less gracefully.
"What did you want to talk about?" you ask as Joel stops a few feet from you, treading water. It's hard to keep your eyes on his face and not let them wander down to his manhood.
"I wanted to apologize for the way I ruined last night," Joel says.
"What do you mean ruined? I was just hoping everything was alright. I saw the worry on your face. Something big must have happened."
"Wow, I did not expect you to react that way. What do you mean you could see the worry on my face? Am I that transparent?"
"No, I don't think you are transparent. I just noticed the crease you get between your eyebrows when you're worried. You got the same one when you were asking me about my past with…" You trail off, not wanting to bring up your ex at this moment. Joel takes the cue and does not push the matter any further, gracefully changing the subject.
"I'm glad I didn't ruin everything," Joel says softly, looking at you. He looks at you with unadulterated desire.
"Why is that?" you ask.
"Because if I did, I wouldn't be able to kiss you again."
Joel smiles and inches closer to you in the water. You can't help but notice his eyes roaming up and down your body.
"Should we, though?"
"Do you have a reason we shouldn't?" Joel asks, the crease between his eyebrows appearing again. He stops just short of touching you, but you feel like you can still feel him. The current between you is electric.
"What about Sarah?" you say, trying to keep control of yourself. Just being this close to him, naked, makes you feel breathless and excited.
“You only need to worry about what you want. It shouldn't matter to Sarah what happens between us, and if it does, I will handle it."
You take a deep breath and look at Joel's questioning eyes. You know he's right. You always worry more about other people's happiness than your own. At some point, you're going to have to choose you. Aubrey and Lin have sent so many text messages telling you to go for it with Joel. They obviously don't think it's a problem to date Sarah's dad. So why should you?
"I want you to kiss me again," you say shyly. "I want… more. I want you."
Joel closes the distance between you and pulls you into him. Your naked bodies connect under the water, and the smoothness of your skin together electrifies the water around you. The softness from the kiss the night before has all but faded into the passionate urgency of your kisses in the water. You wrap your legs around his waist, loving the way your bare bodies feel against each other.
Joel moves from kissing your mouth to kissing down your neck. You can feel his desire, hard against your leg, and you can't deny that you want him just as badly.
"Are you sure you want this?" Joel pants between kisses on your neck, moving back up toward your mouth.
"Yes, Joel, don't stop." you moan in a breathless whisper.
"Do you still want more?" His voice catches in his throat, and you can hear the longing in each word.
"Yes," you whisper into Joel's ear before biting it gently.
Just as you start to feel him slipping inside you, a tree branch cracks, snapping your attention to a man holding a camera pointed directly at you. You grab onto Joel and say urgently, "Joel, there's a man taking pictures of us!"
Joel turns his head, clearly seeing the man with the camera. "Shit! Stay behind me. I'll get you out of this."
Joel uses his body to cover yours, and you bury your face into his neck, praying the man hasn't already gotten a picture of your face. Joel swims for a group of rocks, hiding you both behind them.
"You stay right here, and I will go handle this," Joel says.
You latch onto one of the rocks, and Joel, sliding on his shorts, takes off in the cameraman's direction. They both disappear from your view in the dense vegetation and palm trees. Hot tears stream down your face, mixing with the salt water. You swim over to the beach and slip your dress back on before the cameraman can return. The fabric clings to your still-wet body, a feeling you absolutely hate. However, the feeling of safety the dress brings you is worth being uncomfortable. How could you have forgotten that Joel is not only your friend's dad but he is also, in his own right, a famous businessman? It's easy to forget that the man is worth billions because he is so kind and generous, especially toward you. As your heart slows, your stomach rolls with dread. That man was likely with a magazine that would publish those pictures for the entire world to see. Pictures of you about to have sex with Sarah's dad. You can already imagine the headlines and articles that would follow the scandalous pictures. There would be no way to face Sarah after she saw pictures of you naked and kissing her father. If your identity got out, you could possibly lose your spot at Harvard, and you could kiss the job at the law firm goodbye too.
You finish getting dressed and then walk back to the mansion on your own, knowing you can't face Joel after the trouble you've just caused. You'll lock yourself in your room until you can sneak away to your flight tomorrow.
You keep looking over your shoulder and scanning the surrounding areas for people as you walk back. Once in your room, you lean your back against the door. You and Joel had almost had sex. You smile to yourself, no longer trying to deny how good he makes you feel. The thought of facing him after this scares you, but you desperately want to finish what you've started. You slide your dress off and get in the shower to wash off the sand, then snuggle into the robe Joel gave you, drinking in his scent. You just wish things could have ended differently between Joel and you. If that was the only time you were ever going to be in his arms, you don't want it to be tainted by the intruder with the camera. You want to remember the two of you together, wrapped in each other's arms, focusing on how amazing you make each other feel. Hot tears slide down your cheeks. You'd known this was a bad idea, that you shouldn't get involved with your friend's dad, even if Sarah wasn't the nicest person, even if she was unknowingly marrying your ex.
Going home can't erase what you've already done, but it can prevent anything worse from happening. You'll miss Joel, but leaving is for the best. You know that now - for certain.
Your eyes burn from all the crying you did the night before. You've spent the whole day in your room, and you've barely slept, worrying about how many magazines will have the picture of you and Joel on the cover tomorrow and thinking about your decision to leave. You just hope you'll be able to make it home before the media catches hold of the story. You want to be as far away from Sarah as possible when she gets ahold of the picture.
You text Lin, telling her to confirm the flight for the next day, and you wonder how you'll even get there. Flying commercial means you can't use the private airstrip. Maybe Reggie will be able to help you. Or Brenna. Now more than ever, you want to escape this vacation. You've gone to the bathroom and started the shower, filling the room with steam, when you hear urgent knocking on your door. Your heart sinks, knowing Joel would never knock so frantically on your door; the only other person it could be is Sarah. She must have already seen the picture. You turn off the shower and wrap yourself in your robe before taking your death march to the door. You swing it open to find Sarah standing there with mascara-stained tears running down each cheek.
"Hey," Sarah sobs and cups her mouth with one of her hands.
"Sarah, I am…" But before you can start apologizing, Sarah wraps you in a hug and starts crying into your shoulder. You stand there, stunned and confused.
You figure Sarah has come up here to kick you out of her father's house and end your friendship. After a few seconds, you wrap your arms around her and pat her back.
"Sarah, what is going on?" you ask, still confused but selfishly relieved.
"I caught Todd with another woman last night!" Sarah gasps, her body shaking with sobs.
"Oh, Sarah," you say in a sympathetic tone. You want to call Todd every horrible name you can think of, but you know that won't help right now. That comes later in the breakup, as you're all too familiar with because of Todd.
You pull back from Sarah, and with your arm around her shoulder, lead her to one of the small couches in the room's sitting area. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to the maid, Brenna.
You: SOS! Sarah is having a breakdown in my room. Could you have someone send up some coffee (for me) and tissues (for Sarah)?
Brenna: On it! I'll be there soon. Hang in there.
"Who are you texting? I need your undivided attention right now!" Sarah says, shooting you a dirty look.
"I texted one of the maids; I'm having her bring up some stuff for you," you say, trying to stay calm at Sarah's outburst at you. It's probably just because she's so upset.
"Oh, that's fine, I guess."
"Sarah, tell me what happened," you say.
"Last night, Todd didn't come back to our room. I was worried about him, so I started looking through the entire house for him. I couldn't find him anywhere, so I went outside, figuring he might have gone for a walk on the beach to calm down after our fight."
"What did you two fight about?"
"Well, the first day we got here, I picked up his phone while he was in the shower, and he had a text from an unknown number. The text said, 'I miss you.'"
"Sarah, that could have been from someone in his family," you say. You can't believe you're standing up for Todd. You know exactly the kind of man he is, but seeing Sarah so upset makes you want to protect her feelings.
"That's what I figured until he got out of the shower. He saw me holding his phone and got super defensive about it. Last night, I brought it up again because we never actually got to the bottom of it because he distracted me by biting my…"
"Anyway!" you interrupt, not wanting to hear where that story is going to go.
"Anyway, we fought about it again last night. He told me I was being paranoid," Sarah says with a big sniff.
Just in time, a knock sounds on your door, and you rush to get it. Brenna carries in a tray with a pot of coffee, two mugs, some expensive-looking tissues, and a box of chocolates. That Brenna is a smart one. You quietly thank her, and she nods, smiling at you as if to say, 'good luck.' You hand Sarah a tissue, and she dabs at her dripping nose.
"I'm sorry. Look at me; I'm a mess."
"Don't worry about it, Sarah; we can get you cleaned up after you feel better."
You pour a cup of coffee and hand it to Sarah. "What did you say when he told you you were being paranoid?" you ask.
"I told him I had every right to be paranoid with the way he was acting, but then I took it too far and said I should have known he would cheat again."
"What?!" You're about to take a sip of your own coffee, but you hold it frozen in midair.
"Oh, he hasn't cheated on me before," Sarah says, not understanding why her statement shocks you.
"He had some girlfriend when we met, and it took him a while after we started sleeping together for him to end it finally. Anyway, so I went outside to look for him and found him rolling around in the sand with some girl."
"You can't be serious," you say, and the edges of your vision turn red.
"I am serious; I was horrified. She wasn't even that pretty! You could totally tell her boobs were fake."
"No, Sarah, not that, you knew he had a girlfriend, and you hooked up with him anyway?"
"I am not the bad guy here; that slut on the beach is! Whose friend are you anyway?" Sarah says angrily.
"I thought you were my friend, Sarah." The words are coming out of your mouth before you can stop them. "It was me that Todd was cheating on!" you yell, letting the secret finally slip out.
Sarah stares at you in disbelief and then starts laughing. "Todd would never date someone like you," she says, still giggling through her tears.
It seems like she really thinks you're telling a joke, but her responding by putting you down is infuriating. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Sarah? We dated for three years, so he must have been attracted to me at one point," you say defensively.
"I know you are trying to cheer me up, girl, but I need real advice right now, not just laughs."
"I am not lying to you, Sarah," you say and pull out your phone, swiping through countless pictures of Todd and you when you were happy, or at least when you thought you were happy. You show Sarah a picture of Todd and you at a coffee shop in New York, and Todd is kissing you on the cheek.
"Oh, my God -"
"I told you, Sarah, we really did date for three years. Todd is a cheater. Trust me, I know breakups are hard, but you are going to be so much better off without him."
"I never said anything about breaking up with him," Sarah says. You're surprised that she's now the one being defensive.
"Sarah, you just caught him fucking with another woman, and you're going to stay with him."
"I am not leaving him for a little slip-up," she responds. Your mouth drops open. You can't believe that she considers cheating just a slip-up. "I can't believe Todd would stoop so low." Sarah stands and looks out the windows after glancing at you with contempt.
"Exactly what I was saying. He isn't worth it." You say, relieved that Sarah is coming around.
"No, I can't believe he stooped so low by dating you. He is completely out of your league." Sarah turns to look at you; anger etched in her features.
"Ouch, Sarah. I know you’re hurting, but I am just trying to help. You don't have to take your anger at Todd out on me," you say.
"Well, you're not helping. You are a complete embarrassment. I don't need a reminder of my fiance's poor judgment hanging around. I think it would be best if you left. You've been such a bummer the whole time anyway."
"Get out of my room," you say in a low voice. It takes everything you have not to scream at her. Your hands are trembling with anger.
"This is my dad's house. You are the one who needs to leave," she crosses her arms as though she's planning on waiting for you to pack your bags.
You stand up and glare daggers at her. "Get the fuck out of my room!"
"Fine, but I want you gone. I don't want to see you ever again!" Sarah quickly makes her way across the room.
"The feeling is mutual!" you shout, and Sarah slams the door closed. The tears start flowing again. You've cried on this trip more than you have in your entire college career, except for maybe when Todd first cheated on you, and that was really saying something. You're going to need some serious therapy for what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation.
You go back to the shower and let the water wash away the tears. You get out and are surprised that Sarah has not sent her mother upstairs to attempt to kick you out. You throw on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Then, you wheel your suitcase out of the closet and throw it onto your bed. With a lack of energy, you shove everything you have with you into the empty container haphazardly.
You take one last look around the beautiful bedroom and out at the amazing view of the ocean. It's a shame that you didn't get to enjoy the balcony off of your bedroom. This entire vacation ended up being more trouble than it was worth, except for Joel. You would have done it all over again, just to spend more time with him.
You slip his two notes into your back pocket and hold the little pink shell in your palm, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to let Joel go. You set the little pink shell back on the nightstand. You hope he'll find it and know what he meant to you on this trip.
The wheels of your suitcase get stuck in the gravel at the end of the driveway. You sigh and pull harder, having no idea how you're going to get to the airport from here. The suitcase is too heavy; it's crammed full of all the clothes Joel bought for you.
You realize you haven't thought your escape plan through. You didn't want to do the messy goodbyes with anyone in the house, and you figured you would be able to find a taxi eventually, but your first priority is to get as far away from the mansion as possible.
However, it seems you're going to be stuck at the end of the driveway forever.
The crunching gravel surprises you, and you turn around; just as a black Cadillac pulls up in front of you. The window rolls down, and you're relieved to see Reggie sitting in the driver's seat.
“What are you doing?” Reggie asks you as he takes off his sunglasses. He looks so confused at you standing there, suitcase stuck in the rocks.
“Um. I'm trying to get to the airport. I have a flight in a couple of hours,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. You don't want to tell him the truth, but you figure it's better to be upfront with him. Besides, he's one of the few people at the house you know for certain you can trust. And he obviously has a car.
“Did you plan on walking all the way there?” he asks through the window.
“Maybe not my best idea,” you say and look back at the mansion. You hope no one is watching. You have to have the record for the worst escape attempt. “I was hoping to catch a cab or something, but I'm guessing this isn't the best place for that.” You look around and don't see or hear another vehicle.
Reggie gets out of the car and comes around to you. He grabs your bag without another word and puts it in the trunk. He returns to open the passenger door for you. “Well, I'm not letting you walk. Get in; I'll drive you,” Reggie says with a crestfallen smile.
You hesitate, not sure what his expression is meant to convey. Should you just try your luck with a cab after all?
Seeing your lack of commitment, Reggie grabs your hand to help you into the car. Finally accepting the situation, you slide into the passenger seat and feel your body sink into the expensive leather. You're starting to understand how people could get used to this amount of luxury in their daily lives. But you can't get used to it–you're leaving. Who knows when you might experience this type of lifestyle again? Not until you earn it for yourself as a lawyer, most likely.
Reggie closes the door behind you and returns to the driver's side, and starts down the narrow, winding driveway. You can't help but look back for one last time at the colonial-style mansion. In a few days, you're sure it will feel like a dream that you were ever here at all. “Why didn't you just ask for a ride to the airport? Joel would have sent for a car; he probably would have even driven you himself.” Reggie's tone is more questioning than it would've been if he didn't have a hint that something was going on between Joel and you.
“I didn't want to bother anyone.” That's the truth–more or less.
“You couldn't possibly bother anyone.”
You sit in silence as you pass rows of beautiful mansions along the shore. You keep seeing Reggie glance at you out of the corner of his eye. You know he's wondering why you're leaving so hastily. As you drive further inland, the mansions get smaller and smaller until they turn into charming bungalows. Each bungalow is painted in a pop of color.
“When you say you didn't want to bother anyone, you really meant you didn't want to say goodbye, didn't you?”
“How did you know?” you ask, surprised he's picked up on that.
“You seem upset, and the fact that you were so ready to leave that you were going to drag your suitcase all the way to the airport. I just put two and two together.”
“You're right; I didn't want to say goodbye.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Reggie asks, looking over at you directly this time as you come to a stop at an intersection.
“Not really. Sarah and I just got into a fight. She told me she wanted me out of the house.”
“Oh, I thought it might have something to do with you and Joel,” Reggie says as the car accelerates again.
You don't know how to respond to Reggie, so you opt to say nothing instead. The truth is, you don't know how to say goodbye to Joel after all that's happened. How do you thank someone for a beautiful vacation, stolen moments of happiness, and a whirlwind romance while also apologizing for causing a scandal? You ride the rest of the short drive without talking more. You're thankful that Reggie doesn't press you for more answers. And you find you can't stop daydreaming about Joel. You want to kiss him again and finish what you'd started in the water that day. You know you shouldn't, and that you probably won't get the chance. But that doesn't stop the longing one bit.
You pull up to the airport, which is tiny. You guessed you should have expected it to be small, considering you're on an island. Reggie gets out and gets your bag for you. You stand awkwardly on the sidewalk next to the car. “Thank you for driving me, and thank you for being a friend to me,” you say as Reggie hands you the handle of your bag.
“I hope you really mean that. I would consider myself lucky to be counted as one of your friends.”
You lean over and give Reggie a small hug, “I really mean it, Reggie.”
He grabs your hand before you pull away, leaving a business card in your palm. “Please reach out if you need anything from me. We will all be back in New York again in a few weeks. I would love to see you when we make it back,” he says, with a puppy dog look in his eyes.
You nod and put Reggie's business card in your back pocket, next to Joel's notes. You give Reggie a small wave and turn away from him as you walk into the airport. Why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Reggie? That would have made the whole trip a lot less complicated.
After going through security, you look at the time on your phone; you have a whole hour to fill before your flight leaves, and there isn't much to do in such a tiny airport. You slip a crumpled bill into the vending machine and select a lemon-lime soda. It isn't quite the same as getting a latte from an airport cafe, but it will have to do. You select a hard plastic chair next to the terminal and pull out your phone to wait.
You: I made it to the airport! It is absolutely tiny. I have about an hour until my flight leaves, and then three more on the plane. I can't wait to be back home.
Lin: I will be there to pick you up when you land.
Aubrey: We can't wait to see you!
You: I owe you both so much for this. I am taking you two out for drinks as soon as I sleep off this nightmare of a vacation.
Lin: You could pay me back by packing the rest of my stuff in the apartment.
You: Lin, we are moving in less than two weeks! Get on it!
Aubrey: I have been telling her that the entire time you've been gone, but she decided that binging rom-coms is a better use of her time.
Lin: I still think my logic is sound.
You: Save some of those rom-coms for when I get back. I need something to ball my eyes out over.
Aubrey: What happened with Joel? Did things end badly?
You: Beyond badly. I don't want to get into it over text, so I will tell you both all about it when I land.
Lin: I am so sorry girl. I'll make a stop for some ice cream before I come to get you.
Aubrey: Does this require more than ice cream? Maybe Margaritas?
You: I love you two so much! I can't wait to see you. It looks like they are finally going to let me board the plane. I will see you both soon.
You hand the flight attendant your ticket, and she directs you to your seat. You get settled in by the window and gaze out at the scene of swaying palm trees and the blue ocean in the distance. Part of you wishes you could have stayed and enjoyed a few more days in this gorgeous place. You likely wouldn't have the time or money to come back in a long time.
Your phone vibrates against the seat; you expect a last-minute text from Lin or Aubrey, but an unknown number flashes across your screen. Is it Joel? Has he finally found out you left without saying a proper goodbye? You open the message to find the picture of Joel and you in the cove. Your heart stops beating against your chest. You zoom in and are slightly relieved that your face is more than half covered by your hair. It would be hard for someone who didn't know you to find your identity with this picture. However, anyone who was with you on the yacht would know exactly whose vibrant-colored hair was in the picture. Sarah would know immediately what had happened, well, technically almost happened, between her dad and you.
“Ma'am, I am going to have to ask you to turn your phone off for the duration of the flight,” the flight attendant says as she walks down the center aisle.
“Of course,” you respond in a shaky voice.
You hold the power button and watch the screen go black, taking the picture into blackness. You wish it would disappear altogether, but you know it will be there as soon as you turn your phone back on.
“Is this your first time flying?” the flight attendant asks. She must have mistaken your shock for a fear of flying.
“Yes,” you offer meekly, not wanting to explain.
“Well, don't worry. Everything will be okay. We will be back on the ground before you know it.”
“Everything will not be okay,” you mumble as she walks away.
—
Joel rolls over in bed; the glare of the sun from the window streams across his face, pulling him from some much-needed sleep. He can't stop thinking about what had happened with you on the beach. He wants to talk to you, to see if you're okay, but he hasn't seen you since the incident. His mind goes over it, reliving every aspect in vivid color....
"Joel, there's a man taking pictures of us!" you had squealed.
He had turned his head, and sure enough, a man was standing on the rocky outcrop hanging over the cove. "Shit! Stay behind me, you. I'll get you out of this," he had said, protectively shifting your body behind his. You had buried your face in his neck, and he could feel your nervous heartbeat against his chest. He had been so foolish to pull you into this mess. He knew instinctively that this was Blaine's doing.
He should have accepted the extra security when Bruce suggested it.
He had swum for a group of rocks as fast as he could. His summer spent in the ocean made him a stronger swimmer than usual, thankfully. He had reached for the rocks and strategically placed you behind them, out of the cameraman's view. He could see the fear on your face as you grabbed onto one of the smaller rocks. "You stay right here, and I will go handle this," he had said. You had nodded weakly at him, and he had swum hard for the beach.
He had looked up and saw the photographer frantically packing up his tripod and camera equipment. Had he been waiting for them? How could he have possibly known about this secluded spot? He must have been following him and set up his equipment after watching him strip down on the beach. He had grabbed his clothes and made a beeline for the thick vegetation below the man. He had thrown on his clothes haphazardly before starting to climb up the rocks. Once he had reached the top, the dust was barely settling. The man must have run for it when he realized Joel was coming after him. He had debated on going back for you, but he figured he was not far behind the photographer. He could do more damage control if he caught up with him. Men are easily persuaded by money, and he knew with a big enough bribe, he could buy the pictures back. The only problem was he would have had to find the man first. The man's footprints had been plain to see in the sandy earth, so he had taken off running after him. Eventually, the sand had faded into a dirt road. He had been scared he'd lost him when he noticed fresh tire tracks in the dirt; the guy must have taken off fast to leave such obvious divots in the ground. He had followed the tire tracks, but when the dirt connected with the main road, he had lost him. Not ready to give up, he had spent hours searching the surrounding area and asking the few people he had run into if they had seen someone speed out of the area. He had gotten nothing. The guy was a ghost.
When he had returned to the cove, it was illuminated by the stars, and you were long gone. He had returned to the house well after dark; he hadn't wanted to wake you up, so he had returned to his own room, where he showered off the mud and the grime. As soon as he hit the bed, he had fallen into a deep sleep, completely exhausted from the unsuccessful chase. His body still feels sluggish this morning, but he forces himself to get up; he needs to check on you to make sure you're alright. He doesn't know how he's going to break it to you that he hadn't been able to track down the man with the camera.
He grabs his phone off of the nightstand, surprised to see that he has slept late into the afternoon. He has several messages and emails that need his attention. He opens his messages and has an image from an unknown number; he already knows the picture he will see before he opens it. But he opens it anyway. He has to see exactly how bad the situation is. He is relieved that your face is covered by your hair and that you are hidden behind his body. That will help protect you. He can handle a little public scrutiny, but it could be career-ending for you if the public got ahold of your name. He types out a quick message, seething with every letter he types into the phone.
Joel: What the fuck do you want?
Unknown: One million or this picture will be sent to every gossip tabloid.
Joel: Do you really want to play that game with me? I know it is you, Blaine. You are going down a very dangerous path.
Unknown: I need the money, or the picture will be leaked at midnight. I think it is you that is playing a dangerous game, Joel.
Joel: Leak the picture, Blaine. You are not worth my time.
Unknown: Are you willing to risk your reputation over a measly million dollars?
Joel: I can take a little hit on my reputation. If I give you what you want, you will just come back for more. That is the nature of leeches.
Unknown: If I am a leech, what does that make you? You think about no one but yourself, but what about the girl? Can she handle the scandal? What will it do to her life?
Joel: Even the FBI wouldn't be able to figure out her identity from this picture. Maybe next time, you should splurge on a better photographer. It is amazing to me that you can't even get blackmail right.
Unknown: I know exactly who the girl is. My guess is that I know more about her than you do. How else would I know that she left on a plane earlier today? She must be so ready to be back at home. I guess she wanted to be as far away from you as possible before the picture is leaked.
Joel: You know nothing.
Unknown: Play tough all you want Joel, but those you care about will be the ones to get hurt. Get me the money, or else.
He slams his phone back down on the nightstand. There is no way Blaine knows who you are, but a sinking pit in his stomach makes him rush from his room and up the stairs. The walk to your room seems longer than ever before. He just needs to see your face.
When he gets to your room, the door stands open. His stomach drops; the room is empty… You are nowhere in sight, the bed is made, and the room looks barren despite the perfectly styled decor. He rushes into the bathroom, hoping to find some sign that you haven't really left, only to find it empty as well. The closet is also empty of all of your clothing, and your suitcase is gone.
You truly have left.
He sinks onto your empty bed, his head in his hands, trying to accept the situation and figure out what he had done wrong. He glances over to the nightstand and realizes you have left something, possibly on purpose. The only thing left in the room is a small pink shell set on your bedside table. He picks it up, rubbing the smooth side against his thumb. Where had you picked this up? It must have been significant enough that you felt the need to keep it. He slips the small shell into his pocket. He should have gone after you instead of the guy taking pictures, but now he can't help but wonder if you even wanted him to.
“Sir?"
The voice shakes him from his thoughts, drawing him back to reality. Reggie is standing in the doorway, a somber expression on his face as he rocks gently from side to side, as if contemplating how to tell him something.
“Yes, Reggie? Is there something I can do for you?" His voice sounds exhausted even to his own ear. He hopes that whatever Reggie has to say doesn't have anything to do with work. That is the last thing on his mind at the moment.
“No, I was actually coming to tell you I just got back from dropping her off at the airport. I ran into her when I was driving back from picking up a few things at the store for the chefs this morning. She was dragging her suitcase through the gravel at the end of the drive."
His heart crumbles again at hearing the confirmation that you are really gone. You've left–without a word. “Thank you for making sure she got to the airport. Did she say why she was leaving?"
“She didn't give me much detail. She looked really upset, though. She mentioned fighting with Sarah. I have no idea what they fought about, but a couple of the maids said they heard Sarah screaming at someone early this morning. No one really thought much of it; they just figured she was yelling at a member of the staff."
It certainly wouldn't be unusual for Sarah to scream at a staff member–or her friend for that matter. “That girl needs a reality check," he says with a loud sigh.
He truly is embarrassed to find out that his daughter had yelled at his staff members so frequently that it was considered perfectly normal. He will have to rein her in before she does some real damage. He also needs to find out what she had said to you to make you leave. He suddenly feels exhausted at the thought of having to confront his daughter. Getting blackmailed by his deranged, bastard half-brother is enough for one day.
“Thank you, Reggie. Will you call my housekeeper at the New York home and let her know to prepare for my arrival please?"
Reggie raises his eyebrows slightly but then nods. “Of course, sir. When should I tell her we will arrive?"
“Tell her we will be there tomorrow. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to." His mind is made up, which does make him feel slightly better about the situation.
Reggie nods and leaves him alone with his thoughts.
So you really did leave. The fact that Blaine knew you left means he was having you followed. If he went to see you, he would lead Blaine right to you. His only option is to act as though you didn't matter to him. The only way to keep you safe is to keep his distance. He wouldn't go after you. Not until after he tracked Blaine down.
—
"You need to tell him," Aubrey insists, her arms folded firmly across her chest. Ever since she learned about the blackmail, she's been your guardian angel, fiercely protective.
"But we're both in that photo," you protest, the heat rising to your cheeks as you recall the day. "I was the one who stripped down and dove into the water first. I have no idea what came over me. Joel showed up, and before I knew it, I was daring him to join me. We got... carried away."
Lin's eyes narrow with a playful grin. "Are you blushing? What do you mean by 'carried away'?" she pries, her curiosity piqued.
You chuckle nervously, the memory flooding back. "Well, I haven't told you this, but we almost went all the way in the water that day." It's time to come clean with your friends.
"Oh my god, you're just spilling this now?" Lin exclaims, her excitement bubbling over.
"I've been trying to push it out of my mind, but I can't stop thinking about Joel," you confess, your thoughts drifting to him despite your best efforts.
Aubrey swats Lin's arm, a reminder of the gravity of the situation. "This is serious, Lin. It's not the time for jokes."
"I just don't get why he hasn't sent a security team or something! He's loaded, right? He needs to step up and take responsibility," you say, still shaken from being tailed by a mysterious man from your gym – likely the same one behind the blackmail.
"He has just as much at stake as I do," you add, collapsing onto the worn-out sofa, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.
You're still catching your breath from the encounter, wondering if giving in would only make things worse for Joel. Who could be so intent on hurting him that they'd resort to blackmail and stalking?
"Does he, though? He's got his fortune to shield him," Aubrey counters.
"He might not even know what's happening," you say in Joel's defense.
"Then you need to fill him in," Lin interjects, her tone firm.
"I know I do, but I'm not sure how to reach out to him," you admit. You wish you could just call him, arrange to meet somewhere in the city. But you never got his number, figuring you'd never need it – he was always just a short walk away. And now, it's too late.
"Could you ask Sarah for his number?" Aubrey suggests.
"Even if I wanted to talk to her after our huge fight, I doubt she'd respond," you say, the bridge between you and Sarah burnt to ashes.
Lin, ever the problem-solver, pulls out her phone and quickly types away. Moments later, she hands it to you, displaying a picture of a towering skyscraper with a New York address.
"This is his office. Just go in and talk to him," Lin urges, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Also, I can't resist – was he a good kisser?"
Aubrey laughs, smacking Lin on the shoulder, while your smile and the telltale blush give away your answer.
—
The Express Air building looms over you, an imposing figure against the city skyline. You watch as men and women in sharp suits hurry in and out of the grand entrance, their importance echoing in the rhythm of their steps. Inside, the opulence of white marble floors and black elevators leaves you feeling out of place. The lobby buzzes with the sound of stilettos and the murmur of conversations, all bouncing off the high ceilings in a symphony of business.
You quickly retreat to the far side of the lobby, where a black letterboard announces Joel's office on the top floor. The elevator button glows under your touch, the wait for the doors to open feeling like an eternity. The elevator fills, and you try to blend into the background, your heart pounding as you ascend. When the last of your fellow passengers disembark, you finally breathe, rehearsing your speech to Joel in your head. Despite the dire news you carry, there's a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing him again. You hope he'll forgive your sudden departure – without an explanation, without a goodbye. Perhaps he's missed you as much as you've missed him. The elevator dings, signaling your arrival. You step out with newfound confidence, only to have it crushed by the receptionist's icy gaze.
"Are you lost?" she asks, her tone dripping with condescension. She's the epitome of a high-fashion model, her tight black dress clinging to her like a second skin.
You approach her desk, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm here to see Mr. Miller. Is he available?"
Her cold smile sends a chill down your spine. "Desperate women come up here all the time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mr. Miller. At least they dress the part. You, on the other hand..."
You bristle at her words but press on. "I've met Mr. Miller before. It's urgent that I speak with him."
She rolls her eyes, the picture of impatience. "If you knew him, you'd have an appointment. Mr. Miller's schedule is booked for months. I can't let just anyone see him without one. It's how we keep out the crazies." Her gaze rakes over you, the unspoken implication hanging in the air.
You take a deep breath, steadying your voice. "Please, this is time-sensitive. I really need to see him today."
"It's always 'time-sensitive,'" she mocks, turning back to her computer. "I can call security if you can't find your way out."
Your hands clench into fists, the anger threatening to spill over. But you know losing your temper will only hasten your exit.
"May I leave a note for him, then? It'll be his choice to respond," you say, the words barely above a whisper.
With an exaggerated sigh, she slides a piece of notepaper and a pen toward you. You scribble a quick message, careful not to reveal too much:
Joel, I'm being contacted about our swim in the cove. We need to talk.
You add your name and number, then hesitate before adding a postscript in tiny letters.
P.S. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye.
You slide the note back to her, your heart sinking as you press the elevator call button. When you glance back, the receptionist is watching you, a smug smile playing on her lips. You rush out of the building, head down, the paranoia of being watched still gnawing at you. You can only hope the receptionist will deliver your message to Joel. For all you know, it could be lining a trash can by now. As the elevator descends and you step back onto the street, you're left with a sense of helplessness. What will you do if Joel doesn't reach out soon?
—
"Bruce, please tell me you have some good news," Joel says into his phone.
He walks out onto the balcony of his penthouse, taking in the New York skyline. The city's energy is palpable, but after Blaine's attempts at blackmail, the presence of his security team is a constant reminder of the danger lurking in the shadows. His penthouse, a sanctuary of solitude, is one of the few places where he can find a moment's peace, though even here, the security team maintains a vigilant watch from the lobby below.
"I am afraid it is not good news, sir. We have reason to believe that Blaine is indeed back in New York. What is surprising is that my security team followed him into a neighborhood far from both your penthouse and your offices," Bruce informs him.
Instantly, Joel's thoughts leap to you. The only logical explanation is that Blaine is attempting to use you to get in contact with him. "Shit," he mutters under his breath.
"Do you know where he would be headed, sir?" Bruce inquires.
"I believe he is trying to use a woman to get to me," Joel says, giving Bruce your name. "She was on the yacht with us for part of the vacation. We became involved, and she got caught in Blaine's crossfire."
"Is she the one in the picture?"
"Yes, she is, Bruce. I’ve been trying to find a way to contact her for the past week with no luck. She likely wants nothing to do with me after getting caught up in this mess. However, I would like to have some of the team watching out for her. Would you let me know if you can find her most recent address or a way for me to contact her?"
Joel has reached out to you multiple times over social media, the only link he has to you, but each message has gone unanswered. He isn't sure if you're purposely avoiding responding to them or if you just haven't seen them. You are the complete opposite of his daughter, who lives her entire life on social media.
"Of course. I will let you know when I find something, sir," Bruce assures him.
"Thank you, Bruce. I don't know what I would do without you having my back," Joel expresses, knowing full well that Bruce is not one for effusive praise.
Bruce offers a small cough of acknowledgment, and the line goes dead. Bruce doesn't know how to take compliments well, but Joel wants him to understand how much he values him, even if it makes him uncomfortable to hear it. A knock sounds on Joel's door just as he steps back inside from the balcony. He opens it reluctantly, already mourning the loss of his solitude as Marnie, his ex, barges in uninvited.
"Marnie, what are you doing here?" he asks, though he knows the answer will likely disrupt the calm he's sought.
"I needed to go over the budget for Sarah's wedding before I start finalizing the plans," she says, making herself at home on his brown leather sofa.
He takes a seat across from her, the tension already building as he rubs his temples. Dealing with Marnie, especially when it comes to money, is a surefire way to trigger a migraine. "Just let me know what my portion of the wedding is, and I will pay for it. I am not in the mood to discuss the cost of linen tablecloths and reams of silk with you," he says, closing his eyes in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. As he continues to rub his temples, he hopes she'll take the hint and leave. But Marnie is nothing if not persistent, especially when she's on the hunt for more funds. He often reflects on how lucky he was that her late husband dealt with her more frequently than he ever had to.
"Well, you are in a mood, aren't you? I figured you would want to have more involvement in your only daughter's wedding," she says with a dramatic sigh.
"I already said I would pay my share of whatever Sarah wants. She doesn't want my opinion on the actual details of the wedding, and neither do you," he retorts, weary of the conversation.
"Well, that is fair enough," she concedes with another sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on her shoulders.
He lets the silence hang in the air, a temporary respite from the inevitable conflict. But his patience wears thin, and he finally breaks the silence. "Was there something else you wanted to discuss, Marnie?"
"Well, now that you ask, yes, there is a small matter I wanted to discuss with you," she says, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
He sits up, bracing himself for whatever she's about to drop on him. Of course, she doesn't get straight to the point, and he's forced to coax it out of her. "And what is the small matter?" he asks, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.
"Sarah's trust."
"Yes? As we have already discussed, Sarah has a trust set up by the Miller family," he says, already dreading where this conversation is headed.
Marnie has a history of making poor financial decisions, so he's been meticulous in setting up Sarah's trust to prevent her from accessing it prematurely. He's always held out hope that Sarah would mature and learn to manage her finances responsibly. But deep down, he knows that's probably just wishful thinking.
"Well, since she is getting married, I think she would benefit from receiving it now," Marnie says with a confidence that worries him.
"The trust is set up so that she won’t be able to access the funds until she turns twenty-five," he says firmly, having had similar discussions with her in the past.
"She has to wait until she is twenty-five to receive what is rightfully hers?" Marnie asks, as if this is news to her.
"Yes, that’s how the trust is structured. That way, she's mature enough to handle that amount of money," he explains, though he knows Marnie is more interested in the money than in Sarah's maturity.
"That is all fine in theory, but that puts her in a difficult position right now," she continues, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency.
"How so? Todd seems fully capable of supporting her. He has a good standing in his father's company," he responds, already sensing where this is going.
"That is true, but I was just talking with Todd, and he had his eye on a penthouse on the upper east side that is a bit out of his price range. It would be the perfect starter home for them, and I would hate to see them deprived."
Alarm bells ring in his head as soon as Marnie mentions Todd. The man has his sights set on Sarah's trust fund before they're even married. Given how Todd has treated you, Joel can't say he's surprised. "I see. Does Sarah know about this penthouse?" he asks, already suspecting the answer.
"Of course not. Todd wants to surprise her with it as a wedding gift," she says, as if the idea of a surprise penthouse is perfectly reasonable.
"I will change the terms of Sarah's trust fund on one condition," he says, looking Marnie directly in the eyes to convey the seriousness of his words.
"What is that?" she asks, her eyes widening with hope.
"Todd signs a prenup. Everything that Sarah pays for will remain in Sarah's name alone. He will not have access to any of her trust fund money."
"You are being ridiculous, Joel. A healthy marriage can't operate like a business transaction."
"Those are my terms. If Todd doesn't like it, they don't have to get married at all," he states with finality.
"You would really take away your daughter's one chance at happiness over something as trivial as money?!" Marnie screeches, her true colors shining through.
He can't help but find it ironic that she calls money trivial, given how often she comes to him for financial help. "If money is so trivial, then Todd should have no problem signing a prenup," he counters.
He has serious doubts that Todd is Sarah's one chance at happiness. In fact, the more he gets to know Todd, the more he's convinced that Todd will only bring Sarah misery. He would have liked to discuss this with Sarah, but he knows that once she sets her mind on something, there's no changing it.
"I can't believe you would be so selfish! You are going to ruin the surprise of the penthouse completely, and that will cast a horrible shadow over the entire wedding. You are going to ruin everything for Sarah. She has had enough to deal with in her life by losing one father figure. Now you are going to break her heart all over again!" Marnie spits out, her words laced with venom.
He's used to her throwing her late husband in his face to manipulate him into doing what she wants. She always portrays Sarah as the victim, conveniently forgetting that it was her own actions that kept Sarah from knowing her real father for the first ten years of her life. The guilt used to work on him, but he's since seen through her manipulations. "Those are my terms, Marnie. You are not going to back me into a corner. If this was truly important to Sarah, she could come to discuss it with me. But I’m not making any changes to her trust because you and her fiance are conspiring together."
His phone, which he had placed on the sofa cushion beside him, vibrates, pulling his attention away from Marnie's theatrics. A call from Bruce lights up the screen. "Excuse me, Marnie; I have to take this," he says, picking up his phone with a sense of relief at the interruption.
He steps back out onto the balcony, closing the door firmly behind him. The last thing he needs is for Marnie to overhear anything about Blaine. She paces back and forth in his living room, visibly fuming from their conversation. "Bruce, what news do you have?"
"Sir, I just got word that a woman matching the young lady's description just left your office. Apparently, she talked with the receptionist about needing to speak with you. The receptionist called security right after she left."
"Thank you, Bruce," he says, his mind already racing with thoughts of you.
He sends a text to his assistant to send the car around, and he prepares to leave, his resolve hardening.
"Where the hell do you think you are going? We are not finished here," Marnie yells after him.
"Yes, we are, Marnie. I expect you to leave before I get back. I will give orders to my security team downstairs to forcibly remove you if you refuse."
He leaves her standing there, her jaw dropped in shock.
He is not going to lose you again.
—
Joel's driver pulls up to the front of the Express Air Building, and he immediately jumps out to scan the crowd for you.
He lives only a few blocks away from the office, and he left as soon as he'd gotten word that you had been to his office. If he's lucky, maybe he'll catch you before you leave. He stands in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and scans the surrounding street; just across the street, he catches a glimpse of hair that looks just like yours. His heart skips at the chance that it might be you.
His designer dress shoes slap the pavement hard as he tries to make up the distance between you and him. He does his best to avoid a collision with the other pedestrians as he runs, but he knows he's doing a poor job of it, hearing the mutters of frustration in his wake. Despite knowing he's being rude, he pushes himself harder as the gap between you and him starts to lessen. He's halfway down the block from you when he sees your tiny arm shoot up, hailing a taxi. He knows he has to reach you before one of them stops to pick you up. He's ten feet from you when a bright yellow car pulls up in front of you, and you open the back door.
"Stop!" he yells as he races toward you.
You bend your head to enter the cab, and he grabs your wrist just in time.
"Excuse me!" you respond, turning to face him.
"Please, I need to talk to you," he says, out of breath from the chase.
"I am not who you think I am!" the woman says as his eyes finally land on her face. Clearly, not you.
"Shit. I am so sorry, ma'am," he apologizes, releasing her wrist immediately.
"You should be," the woman chides him as she yanks her wrist from his hand and slams the cab door shut.
He makes the long walk back to the entrance of Express Air, catching his breath along the way. He silently gets into an elevator, ignoring the buzz of his employees, numbly answering some of their greetings with a slight nod. Luckily, many of the employees are too busy to notice their boss sulking through the lobby and hallways. The elevator pings at the top floor, and he takes a step out into the waiting room of his office.
He notices at that moment that he's scuffed his shoes in the chase for the 'not you' woman. There goes a perfectly good pair of five-thousand-dollar shoes.
"Good Morning, sir," his receptionist Tabitha says as the elevator doors close behind him.
"Tabitha," he answers with a small nod. He's still angry with her for calling security on you, but he won't get the information he needs from her if he starts scolding her right away, so he holds off.
"Can I get you anything, sir? I wasn't sure if you were coming in today," she says.
"No, that’s quite alright. I wasn't planning on coming in today. Did anyone come by for a meeting with me today?" he asks, hoping she'll tell him about you stopping by.
"No one of any importance, sir," Tabitha says with a seductive smile as she grabs a water bottle from the mini fridge under the reception desk. She cracks the seal and hands it to him.
He takes a mental note that Tabitha is purposely not telling him that you had come looking for him, which he knows from the explanation she had given the security guard. He figures that might be a sign he needs a new receptionist. He takes the water bottle from Tabitha's outstretched hand, maintaining his stern exterior.
"Are you sure? I expected a visit from an old acquaintance. She was supposed to stop by today," he says with a calculating stare.
"Oh, we did have someone stop by," Tabitha says, fidgeting slightly under his gaze. "I didn't catch her name, though."
"Did you happen to 'catch' what she stopped by for?" he asks.
"She said something about knowing you personally, but I highly doubted it with the way she was dressed. I don't think you would stoop so low as to mix with someone who dressed so - common," she says, her voice dripping with disdain.
"What did she look like?" he asks, feeling anger rise up at her judgmental attitude.
Tabitha takes this as an invitation to further mock you to him, as if he had asked her for more of her petty gossip. "Oh, you would not believe the state of her shoes. These ugly brown clunky things. I cannot believe someone would ever leave the store with something so awful!" Tabitha squeaks with delight.
"No, Tabitha. I do’nt care what she was wearing. Why on earth would you think I was so shallow as to only care about the clothes on a person's back?" he says, his irritation clear.
Tabitha looks as though he has physically smacked her. She looks away from him without saying a word and slides a note from underneath her keyboard. She holds it in her hand and nearly flicks it at him.
"She left this note," her flirty tone has completely changed, and he can tell she's trying very hard to keep her voice professional.
"Thank you, Tabitha," he says as he takes the note from her. He walks into his office and closes the glass doors behind him.
He carefully flips over the note in his hand.
Joel, I am being contacted about swimming in the cove. We need to talk.
-P.S. I am sorry I didn't say goodbye.
You had signed the bottom of the note and left your phone number next to your loopy signature. He pulls out his phone and dials your number.
—
You sink into the old sofa, the energy drained from you after the encounter with Joel's dreadful receptionist. You've managed to hold back the hot tears threatening to spill over during the entire elevator ride down to the main floor, but those concerns fade into the background as you make your way back to the apartment. You don't want to call Lin for a ride, and you can't justify the expense of a taxi. The walk home is uneventful until you notice a man in a dark hoodie. He doesn't follow you home, thankfully, but his presence is a stark reminder that someone could be watching you. The thought casts a shadow over the rest of your walk.
"So, did you talk to him?" Aubrey peeks out from the kitchen, her face etched with concern. She must have noticed your less-than-enthusiastic flop onto the sofa or perhaps heard a sigh of frustration escape your lips.
"No, he wasn't at his office, so I left a note with his snobby receptionist," you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice.
"Well, I'm sure it's only a matter of time until he calls you and straightens this whole thing out," she says with a smile that's meant to be reassuring.
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll call if the receptionist actually gives him my note. I wouldn't put it past that witch to have tossed it in the trash the moment I turned my back," you say, pulling a throw pillow over your face to shield yourself from the world.
"Why do you say that?" Aubrey asks, her eyes filled with love and concern as she gazes at you.
You lower the pillow just enough to see her. "Aubs, that was the most embarrassing interaction I've ever had. She told me women pull the same stunt all the time to try and get Joel's attention. She treated me like I was some kind of groupie."
"I'm sure it wasn't your most embarrassing interaction. Do you remember when you sat on that foreign exchange student's jacket? You thought he was hitting on you because he couldn't figure out how to tell you he needed you to get up," Aubrey teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Aubrey! I asked you not to mention that again! What was I supposed to think when he kept gesturing to me and then pointing to his butt?" you say, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth despite your exasperation.
Aubrey bursts into laughter, nearly wheezing with amusement.
"But you went on for like ten minutes about how you thought he was really nice but didn't see him or his ass in that way. Oh man, the look on that poor confused boy's face," Aubrey says, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye.
You pull the pillow back over your face, partly to hide your smile at the memory of your earlier embarrassment.
"What are we missing in here?" Lin asks, entering the room from the bedroom and holding a tape gun.
"Oh, we were just remembering the time that you sat on the foreign exchange student's jacket," Aubrey says, trying to stifle a giggle.
"Oh, I never get tired of that story!" Lin exclaims, then begins imitating you, "I agree. You do have a really nice ass, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't think of you like that."
Aubrey's laughter erupts into a snort, which sets Lin off laughing just as hard. You can't help but think about how much you'll miss living with these two. You're taking Lin with you to Harvard, but it won't be the same without Aubrey.
"I'm going to miss this," you say, sitting up on the couch and hugging the pillow in your lap.
"Don't remind me that you guys are leaving. I've already cried about it today," Aubrey admits.
"Yeah, don't make Aubrey cry. You know I get all weird when people cry," Lin adds.
"You're right. I'm sorry, you two. I just feel bad that I've spent the last week moping around the place, not enjoying our time together."
"We understand, girl, especially now that we know about the whole mess with the photographer," Aubrey says.
"What Aubrey said. Anyway, what happened at Express Air? I'm guessing you didn't get a chance to talk to Joel, or we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."
"No, he wasn't at his office. His horrible receptionist made fun of me and would only let me leave a note for him. I don't even know if she'll give it to him, so all I can do now is sit and wait for him to call, but that's probably a long shot."
"I'm sure he'll call, girl," Aubrey says, coming to sit next to you on the couch.
"It's only a matter of time. And if he doesn't, I'll go up to his office and see if that snot-nosed receptionist can say no to me," Lin declares, sitting on your other side.
"Who said she was snot-nosed?" you ask.
"Just a shot in the dark, honestly, but it felt right."
You all laugh together until your phone starts ringing, breaking the momentary levity. You pull it out of your pocket and take a deep breath before answering, hearing a gruff deep voice on the other end, "Darlin'?”
Taglist <3
@lizzie-cakes @ashhlsstuff @puduvallee @theoraekenslover
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x f!reader#tlou fanfiction
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♡ part seven ♡
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
*still bad at writing smut. jus pretend i wrote something good… also im sorry!!!!
You’re already awake when John's eyes finally begin to blink open, his first sight being the back of your head.
You’re fidgeting with his wedding band again, gently tracing your thumb over the engraving as you hold his left hand that’s slung over you.
"Mornin’..." He mumbles once he finally stops blinking, his eyes slowly coming into focus again as he realizes that you're awake. He sees you toying with his wedding band, which makes him smile as he watches.
“Hey there.” You smile, finally removing your hand from his.
You turn to lie on your back so you can see him better.
The regret of letting him stay after ruining your date had started to set in… but the memory of what the two of you did last night helped blur the lines.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask quietly. John’s eyes are studying your face with a lazy smile on his lips.
“God, y’r so beautiful.” John whispers, eyes locked on yours.
Your cheeks flush pink, though you have no idea why he still has that effect on you.
Your hands move to your face, covering your blushing cheeks with a laugh.
John laughs too, prying your hands away from your face. “Just lemme look at you, lovey. I can’t get enough.”
John manages to remove your hands and pin them above your head with one hand while his other hand cupped your face, turning you towards him. He presses kisses from your temple down to your jaw, then to your neck.
You squirm under him when his lips move back up and get close to yours; you turn your face away from him.
“Is something wrong..?”
“Morning breath.” You mumble. John chuckles, turning you back to your side and pulling you close by your hips.
“We can work aroun’ it.” He murmurs in your ear, his hardness pressing against your ass. You can’t help but to giggle when John starts to dry hump you like a horny teenager. It’s fun for you to see him like this recently; it’s like he’s been trying to make up for lost time.
Though your giggles quickly turn into a gasp when the head of his thick cock pushes your lips apart, slowly pushing in. John’s big arms are wrapped around you in a bear hug as he thrusts into your still sore cunt.
A strong hand grips your thigh, lifting your leg so he can get a better angle. A deeper fuck.
You can’t do much but moan and whimper as John takes what he wants— not that you’re not enjoying it.
“That’s right, lovey, that’s it-” John talks you through your climax, but not slowing down on your behalf. His grunts and your moans fill the room; your eyes roll back when John finally does come… You whine a bit when he begins to pull out, which makes him laugh softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I miss you when you pull you.” You pout. “Can’t we just nap with it in?”
John snorts.
You look up at him when he finally sits up and stretches.
“Staying for breakfast..?”
John looks relieved when you ask him to stay.
“Making breakfast.” He grins before he leans down and finally steals a kiss despite your morning breath warning. “Lemme get the kids up.”
You watch as John stands up and pulls on a pair of joggers before heading out to the hall. He’s clearly comfortable being back in his old house.
Your eyes widen when you see the evidence of last night; red scratch marks over his back, bite marks on his shoulders.
You quickly pull on John’s boxers from the floor and a hoodie from the hamper, and follow after him with his t-shirt in hand.
John freezes for a moment as he feels your hands pull the shirt over his head. He looks back at you with a questioning look.
"What're you doing?" He says this with a confused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow.
"Marked you up pretty good." You blush, rubbing his back gently after his shirt is on. You give his butt a pat and heard towards your youngest’s bedroom.
“She still a grump in the mornings?” John asks.
“Not when her daddy’s home.” You shrug.
Home.
•••
“You’ve gotta let her go at some point.”
John looks up at you in the doorway from where he’s sat on your youngest’s toddler bed. It was practically a chair for him due to his stature.
“Right…” John looks back down to your youngest who, sleepy after her bath, is fast asleep in his lap. Her damp hair is combed out of her face and her cheek is pressed right up against John’s chest
“I just, eh… I’ve missed a lot of her life, haven’t I?”
“She’s still little.” You reassure him. “There’s still time.”
John stands up slowly and is gentle when laying her back on the little bed. He pulls the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her head.
After John joined you in the doorway, he crosses his arms as he swallows back a small lump in his throat, thinking about the years that had passed and the time he lost with his kids and you.
Only seeing you two days a week just wasn’t enough.
You rub John's arm gently. He's normally not a very affectionate or emotional man, but he has a soft spot when it comes to his family.
John looks at you with watery eyes.
"You big softie." You tease, knowing he's really anything but.
"Alright." John rolls his eyes at you and grins as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom.
John sits at the edge of the bed and you sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You could tell the guilt was eating at John, for missing out on the kids first few years.
“You’re a great dad, John.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that, right?”
John sighs.
“You are.” You smile softly, one arm now around his neck and the other hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to have babies with.”
John chuckles at that. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm.” You nod. “I’d still have 98 more with you.”
John's eyes shift up to meet yours once you say that.
He raises an eyebrow at first as he takes a moment to process that... but then, he eventually laughs. "You’re crazy…" His smirk widens a bit, and he moves his thumb along your jawline now.
"What if we have another?" You practically whisper.
"You’re not serious…” John shakes his head slowly.
“I think it’d be wrong not to.” You fake a little pout. “Have you seen our babies? They’re gorgeous.”
“You want to keep having babies with me, is that it? More mini-me’s running around?”
“I do.” You nod, you face moving closer to his. You smile when your lips meet, just barely brushing against each other.
John smiles back. "Well, I'm not gonna deny you..." His grin widens a little now as he stands, you in his arms.
He tosses you gently onto the bed.
You grab the front of his shirt and pull him into you.
•••
After a few hours, the two of you had moved from the bed to the floor, the bathroom counter, and now you are in the kitchen having a water break.
The two of you, sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted, look at each other grinning ear to ear as you sip your waters.
You’re stood across from John with a robe on and your legs crossed, as a precaution.
John has just his boxers on as he finishes his water and looks at you, leaning back against the kitchen island.
"Feeling a little uncomfortable, love?" He says this as he notices the little way that you're standing, and then he gives a smirk.
"Forgot how messy it is." You confess with flushed cheeks.
John hums in acknowledgment and pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly; a nice change of pace.
He lets the kiss hold for a bit longer than a usual peck before finally letting go and gently squeezing your rear as he pulls away.
"You need anything from me right now lovey?" He asks with a soft look.
"I want you to move back in."
John pauses for a bit after you make this request. He stays quiet as he blinks, looking surprised as he hears this.
"Really?" He asks, wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.
Part of him thought that he'd have to beg for this.
"If you were serious about wanting us to do this again, then I want to do it for real. You're moving back in to our house, we're sleeping back in our bed, and we're being a family again."
“You mean that?” John asks cautiously.
You nod. “But I’m keeping our no fighting rule. You have to communicate with me, John.”
“Anything, love. I’ll do anything you ask.”
Your smile grows at how eager he is to get back together. “You’re stuck with me now, Johnathan Price.”
John just laughs, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into a another kiss.
Your arms are draped around his neck when you’re set back on your feet.
“I’ve missed this.” You admit quietly.
“I’ve missed you.” John counters. His smile suddenly falters a bit when he speaks again. “But we should really talk about it more, figure it all out before we rush into it.” He runs his hand over his beard.
"We can talk it over tomorrow..." You slowly undo your robe, keeping your eyes on him.
John watches you undress slowly, his eyes glued to your every movement. He continues looking at you throughout the whole process.
Once the robe hits the floor, John lets out a soft groan and looks you over.
You hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his hips closer to you.
John smirks as you pull him closer to you, and he lets himself get pulled in willingly. His hands move to your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"Again? What're you doin' to me, lovey..."
•••
You look up from brushing your teeth and notice John waiting in the doorway of the washroom.
“Missed me that much?” You tease. “I thought you’d be asleep by now…”
John shakes his head, looking just as wrecked as you felt. “Wanna talk to you first.”
You glance at him again, noticing his suddenly stoic expression.
“Sure,” You nod, following him into the bedroom. The two of you sit at the edge of the bed, next to each other. You instantly get a sick feeling in your stomach by seeing how anxious John looks.
He sighs, closing his eyes tightly as he gathers up the courage to just say it.
"There's something I didn't tell you, that night…" John hesitates before continuing, the silence between the two of you becoming deafening.
He remains silent for a moment longer, trying to find the perfect way to word this to you.
You don't speak.
You think back to the fight that lead to you wanting a divorce.
His job had kept him away for months at a time, that's what started it.
You felt like every time he came back, he was more and more distant. Then you found a plane ticket back to London.
You accused him of cheating, and he couldn't prove you wrong.
John's voice gets quiet as he takes another deep breath.
"That night... I didn't cheat on you. I did keep something from you, but not because of that.” He opens his eyes and looks at you for just a second before he goes back to looking down at the floor.
“Then what was it?” Your voice was strained as you tried to coax the truth out of him. "Just tell me what it was so we can try to move past it.”
“I have a… I have a child. A son, back in London.”
You froze.
Your stomach sank.
You couldn’t even speak.
John sits quietly and waits for you to say something, anything.
"How old?" You ask softly, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your "no fighting" rule.
"He's ten..." He hesitates again, unsure of just what else to add.
You let out a shaky breath. Ten. He’s older than your oldest, meaning that he wasn’t a result of John cheating on you...
You finally open your eyes , ready to look at him.
"Why... Why wouldn't you tell me that you had a child from before we met?"
John sighs again, not expecting you to be this levelheaded about things. He was expecting something much different from this.
“I was afraid.” John admits. He pauses to look away briefly before continuing. "I… I just kept trying to find the right time, the right way to say it to you..."
"...were you with his mother when we met?"
The question catches him off guard, you could see it on his face.
"Yes... I was..."
"I'm gonna be sick." You get off of the bed and stand up.
John immediately stands as well, watching you as you stand and start to walk away from him.
"Wait-" He quickly grabs your arm to stop you, unsure if you're going to the bathroom to be sick or just not look at him anymore.
You pull your arm from his grasp
"You were with her and had a child with her and yet you still took me home from the bar that night? You still fucked me the next day?"
“…yes.” He sighs, still avoiding eye contact. His voice drops to almost a whisper.
"And then you... would say you were at work and instead visited them? Were you still fucking her?!” You tried not to raise your voice, more for the sake of the children than for John.
John tries his best to not get angry, but he's fighting back a lot of emotions now, primarily frustration with himself. He stays quiet for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. He rubs his eyes and then speaks again, trying to find the right words.
“…no, I wasn’t fucking her. I haven’t cheated on you, I want that to be clear.”
"I'm having a hard time believing you." You admit bitterly, crossing your arms. “You and I were divorced for two years; you came back for one night and we’ve been fucking ever since.”
“Wasn’t like that with her.” John insists with a curt shake of his head.
"Why didn't you just tell me the night we met? Or the next morning?"
He stays silent again as he thinks about that very question. He takes in a long breath and then finally answers, his voice still a bit quiet.
"I didn't think you would have given me a chance if you knew the truth..." John says softly, starting to feel some resentment towards himself start to build up.
"The truth being that you had a girlfriend and a baby back home, and were fully planning on cheating on her."
John remains silent.
He didn't know how to argue with that.
He knew it was true. He knew he was being selfish at the time, but he just couldn't let you go after that night. He couldn't explain it.
"Or was she your wife? Fuck, I feel like I don't know anything about you!" Your voice cracks as the tears start forming.
John can hear how hurt you are in your voice, and he hates seeing you like this. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that you wouldn’t let him.
Not when it was his fault that you were like this.
"Six years, John. You've had six years to tell me about this." You keep your arms crossed tightly, trying to stop the angry jitters.
John doesn’t speak.
"How often do you see them?" You ask suddenly, your breath shaky.
"Not often," John answers earnestly. He rubs his face as he tries to continue.
"I only see them once a month, maybe... Every few months, at least. I just go over to spend time with my son..." His words get a little stuck in his throat, feeling the guilt eat away at him like a virus.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"About a month ago..." John says softly, his voice sounding just a little bit sad as he mentions how long it's been since he's seen his son.
Your eyes widen.
He had to have just come back from seeing them when he came to shovel the driveway.
John notices how your eyes widen at what you just heard. He immediately looks down, feeling even more shame wash over him.
"You... You're-" You rub your eyes, feeling like I'm about to lose it on him.
John keeps quiet, waiting for the worst to come from this.
If you want to yell at him, if you want to throw things, hit him, kick him out again, he wouldn't blame you at all for any of it.
He'd take it all on the chin if it meant that he could get the opportunity to fix things.
Instead, you just cry.
Sobbing, shaking.
John has had a secret family for the last eight years and kept it a secret from you for the entire six years you’ve known each other.
Your children have a sibling they've never met, but their dad spends time with pretty often.
You’re gutted.
John's reaction to your crying is instant. He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you as you cry.
He knows that nothing he could say right now could make your pain go away, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he still tries his best.
"...I'm sorry, lovey… I’m so sorry," He whispers. He tries to think of anything else to say, but that's all he can say, all he has right now.
John rubs your back as he holds you close to him, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.
John feels your grip around him tighten as you continue to cry, and he squeezes you tight too, not wanting to let go. Just letting you cry against his chest, rubbing your back lightly as he continues trying to process all that just happened.
John rests his chin on your head, his voice raspy when he finally speaks again.
“That night we met… I left your flat knowing that I had to leave her for you; it was love at first sight. I needed to be yours, love. I needed you to be mine.”
You finally pull out of his embrace.
You wipe your tears off of your face and try to steady your shaky breathing.
"You should... You should sleep on the couch."
John watches as you pull away from him.
He's speechless.
He was expecting more... For you to kick him out all together, to tell him to go back to his own place...
But instead you're just calmly telling him where he should sleep.
John nods slowly. He doesn’t fight. He walks downstairs without another word.
You don't even want to be in your bed, where John and you have been sleeping together.
Instead you quietly go into your youngest’s bedroom and scoop her up, carrying her into your oldest’s bedroom and crawling in beside him in his twin bed, holding both of your children close.
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#call of duty#captain john price#captain john price x reader#captain price#john price#cod smut#captain price smut#cod headcanons#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod mw3#cod mw2#exhusband!price#dad!price#price headcannon#captain price fluff#price headcanons#price x reader#141 x reader#x reader#task force 141#bravo six#cod x you#cod x fem!reader#141 headcanons
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Sneak peak… to the request of a playboy reader and nerd OC… degradation, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock—a bit dubcon and feminization
…..
“C’mon~ you’re that scared?”
You stared at the boy across from you on the bed. He was biting at his lip, fiddling with something behind his back. You couldn’t help but smirk. Ah, shy nerds.
They were your favorite. Easy targets for some great sex.
They were always so loud but then get so shy after hearing themselves.
And this guy… Yubin, he looked like the perfect target.
His doe like eyes moved up to yours. His shaggy mullet like hair was honestly cute on him. But it helped he was just naturally a bit cute.
Yubin pursed his lips. You hummed and stood up, noticing once more—that he was shorter than you. He only reached your shoulder. You moved over to his side of the bed, reaching over to grab his shoulder.
“Don’t worry~ I’ll be gentle with you.”
Yubin glanced up at you and his face contorted into something akin of laughter as a dry laugh left his plump lips.
Suddenly, you were on the bed and your hands were tied to the banister. You panicked, pulling at it in fear as you looked up at Yubin who was sitting on top of you.
“5 seconds… that was faster than before. I’m getting good.”
A cruel smirk was on his lips as he leaned back a bit, staring down at you with an odd look of disgust.
“A shame you’re not as buff as I wanted you to be… my past lover, gosh, he was so beautiful.. he had great tits.”
Yubin reached down and grasped your chest, frowning when there wasn’t much to grab. He huffed and pulled away. You just honestly couldn’t believe you were being manhandled by a guy smaller than you.
“What the hell, Yubin?!”
“What? We’re having sex. It’s why you were even talking to me for the best few days, wasn’t it?”
You gulp, feeling a bit guilty. He wasn’t wrong. You never paid him any mind during class until you realized you had fucked a lot of people in the class except him.
Didn’t help your friends didn’t believe you could fuck him.
“Well, not sure if you know this, but I don’t let dicks near my ass.”
“Why? Haven’t found a cock big enough for your butt?” He reached over and grasped your ass, humming in delight. “Wow, glad something about you is big.”
You didn’t know whether to be insulted or appreciative.
“Not like you’re big at all. What, have a kink for men bigger than you?”
Yubin simply smirked. He got up from on top of you and walked over to his backpack. He pulled out a few toys, many being something to spank you with.
Gosh, was he into spanking?
“I’ll be nice.. which one do you want to you?”
He held up a rod, blindfold, and a vibrator.
You did not want to deal with any pain at the moment and the fear of not being able to see what he was doing scared you. So you eagerly pointed at the vibrator.
Yubin hummed and placed the rejected items in his bag. He walked over to you and sat back down on top of you, this time right on top of your cock. You, a bit too far in your ways of being a slut, thrusted upwards a bit.
You expected him to moan or maybe whimper a bit and show off his cute side. But he looked at you as if you were a cockroach.
“Ew.”
You felt your heart shatter.
Ew?!
While you mentally cried over your first ever ‘ew’—Yubin was pulling your shirt up. He still seemed pretty disappointed you weren’t as muscular as he thought you were.
“W…what are you into? Power bottom shit?”
“You really keep thinking you’ll put that small dick of yours in my butt.”
“Well… yeah! Any boy I fuck, even ones who thought they’d just be tops, loved my cock!” You boast, a grin on your lips. “I don’t mind letting you be on top, baby~ I’ll just show you how good my cock feels.”
Yubin stared down at you. “But… I’m bigger.”
You laughed. “You? Bigger than me? I’m literally 6 inches hard.”
You heard the sound of pants being pulled down as you watched Yubin get undressed. He pulled down his boxers and the only thing to come out your mouth was a whimper.
Holy fuck.
He was 8 inches… flaccid!!!
Yubin grinned as he began laughing at your shocked face.
“I love fucking guys bigger than me and putting them into their place.. usually I prefer guys that don’t fight back.. but I think this’ll be fun.”
You could watch as he moved up a bit and tapped your lips with the tip of his cock.
“Now start sucking, baby~ A slut like you should’ve sucked a few times.”
You wanted to punch but him but much to your own shock, you slowly parted your lips. He was surprisingly gentle as he slowly moved his cock inside your mouth. Huh, guess he didn’t want to actually hurt you.
Physically that is. He had no problem degrading you.
You winced as Yubin grabbed your hair and held it tightly, keeping your head steady.
“You might’ve been thinking this night was supposed to have me screaming.. but tonight, slut, it’ll be you screaming my name. You better sound like music to my ears or I’ll silent you like the bitch you are.”
Yubin stared at you for a moment, a cruel smirk on his lips before he sighed. “Pinch me twice whenever you wanna stop.”
You hummed, a bit happy he wasn’t being totally cruel.
“Now… with that out of the way, suck.”
“Let’s see if you’ll become my new housewife, Noona~”
Now for the actual fic.. it might be a bit edited when it comes to this part lol but it’s just a draft on what’s going to happen… hope that makes sense lmao.. Yubin lovers will also know who his past lover was <3
Tag list: @ofclyde @tomoeroi @nakedtoasterr @iwishtobeacrow @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @smellwell @tehyunnie @remdayz @kaedezu
Noona: title for older sister or older close female—can be viewed as romantic. Only males call an older woman Noona—similar to Oppa.
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Birthday Boy*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry doesn't celebrate his birthday but he loves to celebrate you.
Word Count: 2.3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, anal play, brief Daddy kink, breeding kink
“What the fuck am I doing here?”
You grin as you widen the door and motion him inside. “Just shut up and come in.”
“…why?”
“Harry.”
He huffs but does oblige, slipping the hood from his head while glancing around. “I thought you didn’t want me coming over here anymore.”
“I don’t,” you agree. “But this is a special circumstance.”
“Yeah? And why's that?”
You merely smile. “You’ll see. Sit.”
He glances at your sofa before nodding his chin toward the bedroom. “Here or there?”
“Here. You don’t deserve to go in there.”
“Funny.” He slumps down onto the cushions and tosses arms over the back of the couch. “Now what?”
Your hand disappears into your pocket as you approach him from behind. “We’re gonna play a game.”
“A game?”
“A game. I…am gonna blindfold you,” you tell him as you slip his glasses off and hover dark fabric over his head. “And you…are going to guess what I put in your hand.”
You wait a beat before settling it over his eyes, just to make sure he’s all right with your proposition.
And of course, he smirks. “Okay,” he agrees and you fasten the knot. “And what do I get if I guess correctly?"
“A prize.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You walk back around the couch and stand in front of his knees. “And if you guess wrong, then I’ll be claiming the prize for myself. And you can just watch.”
His lips curl up into a wicked grin. “Deal.” He extends his hand. “Let’s go.”
This is where the game gets tricky. In order to give him the object, you have to retrieve it first. Which means stripping down completely.
So, you do. You peel off your shirt and your jeans and your scandalously tiny panties and toss them into a pile on the floor.
And then…you step closer.
You swing your leg over his hip, and then the other, and drop yourself onto his lap. He’s already grinning, likely having guessed that you removed your clothes, and he’s endlessly intrigued.
You take his hands and bring them to your chest. Allowing him to squeeze and grope the warm, sensitive flesh at his disposal as he bites back a larger grin and pretends to think.
“These…” he hums, “these are those beautiful fucking tits I love to suck on so much, aren’t they?”
“Mhm.” You move his hands down your stomach and place them on your waist.
“And these…” He kneads them gently. “These are those perfect hips I love to hold when I fuck into you.”
“Uh-huh.” You slide his large palms down to your thighs.
“Oh, these,” he nearly groans. “These are the fucking thighs I love to have squeezing my head when you sit on my face. When you cum all over my tongue and make a mess of me. A tasty fucking mess.”
You smirk and move him toward your ass now.
And he curses to himself before he’s taking hold of each cheek and tugging—hard. “And this…this is the ass that looks so pretty when it’s all red and tender from taking my punishment, yeah? The one that looks so fucking good in my hand? Bouncing on my cock?”
“Mhm…and one more guess,” you tell him before you take his hands and move them between the cheeks of your ass.
And that’s when he feels it.
You watch him swallow. Watch the way his jaw ticks and his lips part. The way he fights the urge to yank the covering from his eyes and see for himself.
“Tink…”
“Yes, Harry?”
“…is that a butt plug?”
You grin wildly as you move your lips to his ear. “Happy birthday.”
In seconds, he’s ripping off the blindfold and taking a proper look at you. He’s surprised and you feel proud. “How the fuck did you know?”
“What, you think you’re the only one who can hack into Prescott’s computer and read a file?”
He blinks before he’s leaning back and allowing his eyes to travel down the length of your naked body still settled on his lap. “Well…fuck.”
“Yeah.” You laugh. “And what better way to celebrate, right? Go ahead. Admit it. I’m an incredible gift giver.”
For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems…stunned. Eerily quiet and it’s almost unnerving. He holds your body but not in the greedy way he was before. Now he’s…almost reverent. Confused.
“I…I don’t really celebrate my birthday,” he finally admits. “Anymore, I mean. I…you didn’t have to do this.”
Your chest aches but you wave him off. “It’s just anal, calm down. I’m not throwing you a fucking party or anything.”
He exhales a gentle chuckle. “Still, you didn’t…I mean, I didn’t expect anything.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” You both smile. “Because this doesn’t change anything. I still hate you. I just…thought it would be a fun thing to do. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.”
Now he understands and the room suddenly feels so small. You figured he wouldn’t be celebrating his birthday this year. And you’d realized you’d never seen him celebrate before. And then…you figured out why.
Her.
You didn’t want him to go back to his empty apartment and be alone. You didn’t want him to have to pretend like this was just another day or drown himself in the memory of her.
You wanted to distract him. Give him a reason to enjoy himself. Celebrate his birth. Even if it was with you.
He sighs now as he pulls you closer. Squeezing your ass again before kissing the space between your breasts. “Well…other than the fact that you disobeyed me, this is really thoughtful.”
“I’m sorry…what?”
He nods once and you recognize that sadistic gleam in his eye. “How did you get this pretty little plug in, hm?”
Oh. “I…I put it in.”
“Uh-huh. How?”
“How do you think?”
He spanks you. Firm. The sound is sharp and it echoes through your apartment as you jolt. “Don’t be fucking smart, Princess. When I ask you a question…you answer it. Is that understood?”
You bite your lip. “I touched myself and then I put it in.”
“Mm.” He kisses over your nipple and up to your shoulder. “And do you realize how that was disobeying me?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “In all fairness, it would have ruined the surprise if I fucking told you.”
He spanks you again. Harder this time. Painful. And your insides are on fire in the best possible way. “No. You won’t speak to me like that today. Will you?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Good girl. What are you gonna do instead?”
“…I’m gonna give you your prize.”
He grins. “That’s fucking right. Turn around.”
You do. You stand from his lap and allow him to pull you apart until he can get a glimpse of the pretty toy inside.
And you can’t help but feel pleased with the way he exhales a tortured groan at the sight. “Fucking shit, Tinkerbell. Look at you…s’all for me, huh?”
You nod, even if he can’t really see you. “Yes.”
“Just wanted to be good to me, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Wanted me to have a perfect present?”
You nod again and fight a shiver when you feel him run his finger over the tip. “Want you to have whatever you want.”
He makes another noise. “And you’re sure you could take it, baby? Sure you wouldn’t mind me playing with such a pretty little hole?”
“Please,” you breathe. “I can take it. I promise. Want to.”
He squeezes your hips. “And do you think you deserve it after disobeying me?”
“Yes…yes, please…please.”
“Hm. Maybe you do,” he admits. “Just this once. After being so sweet to me. Bet it’s killed you to have to be so nice, huh?”
You smile. “Kind of. You are the fucking worst.”
Another spank and you both make a desperate sound this time. He likes to watch the way your skin ripples beneath his hand. The way it reddens, the way it grows warm to the touch. And maybe you like it, too.
“We’ll start slow, yeah?” he says and gently begins to ease the toy out. “Just gonna give you my finger for now. Maybe next time we can do more—”
“Harry—”
His palm meets your ass again and you jump. “Tink, don’t argue with me. M’not gonna hurt you on my birthday. S’not fair very to me.”
Your eyes roll but you’re grinning. “Yeah, okay. But any other day you don’t mind?”
“Exactly.”
“Mm.” You sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Harry?”
“Yeah, Princess?”
“…are we okay?”
The sneaky touches stop as he turns you a bit so he can see you clearly. “What? Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I mean…this doesn’t cross a line or anything?”
Instantly, he removes his hands from your body. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, not that,” you correct quickly. “I mean…I mean me inviting you here and doing all this for your birthday. I just…I know we have a rule about not getting too personal and this kind of breaks it, but—”
“Tink.” He holds you again but only to capture your attention and bring you to a stop. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because when I call, you come running?”
He smirks and smacks your thigh. “No. I’m here because I want to be here. We make our own rules. We decide what we’re comfortable with. Yeah, it’s a little more personal than it was before but that’s okay. Because I couldn’t very well fuck your ass in the office, now, could I?”
You laugh.
“We’re okay,” he assures you. “More than okay. Nothing is gonna change how much I hate you. I promise.”
And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.
So, you turn back around and allow his large hands to run up and down your body in appreciation. He soaks in every inch of your skin. Every curve and mark and scar. He truly holds you like a prize and when he finally kicks your feet apart and slips his finger up your cunt and toward your ass…you’re gone.
“Breathe,” he instructs, and you do. “And tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will.”
With this assurance, he eases the tip of his finger in your tighter hole and it’s oddly more satisfying than you expected. Sure, the plug had somewhat prepared you but this…
“Shit,” you whisper and he stills.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s…I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s…it’s really good.”
You can’t see him but you can picture his smile. “Good. Keep breathing, yeah? And try to relax for me, baby. S’gonna hurt if you don’t.”
You exhale slowly and allow your muscles to unwind. Giving him room to push in a bit further while his other hand strokes your hip.
“Doing so good, Tink,” he says. “God, you really would take my cock, wouldn’t you? Look so fucking pretty, all stretched out and needy.”
The image and lewd way he speaks nearly makes your knees give out, but he keeps you upright.
“Bet it’d look so sweet…dripping with my cum,” he murmurs as he pumps his finger a bit faster. “Bet you’d let me cum anywhere I wanted, wouldn’t you? Let me fill this cute little belly with all my kids—”
“Shit,” you say again and he hums.
“You think about it, don’t you? Think about the way it’d feel. The way your body would look…holding me inside—"
“God…fuck, Harry—”
“S’what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Wanna see your pretty tits get fuller, see your tummy filled with my babies—”
Your chin drops to your chest and you’re moments from slipping away. “Ha…Harry—”
“I know.” He’s fucking into you faster now, and even though it’s only one finger, it feels like ecstasy. A fullness you never imagined. “I know, baby. Maybe for my next birthday, yeah? Get you pregnant then.”
The reemergence of the breeding kink isn’t one you anticipated and yet, it leaves you enthralled. Even if you know you’ll likely never act on it.
But just when you’re beginning to settle into it, he’s suddenly retracting his hand and spinning you back around. You’re tugged onto the sofa, back first, without a moment of reprieve before he’s slotting himself between your thighs. And this time when his fingers find you…there’s four.
Two in your pussy…and two in your ass.
You arch from the couch and he’s relentless. Swallowing your gasps with greedy kisses and letting the sounds of your arousal echo through the room like an orchestra.
It’s beautiful and he’s beautiful. Even without his glasses, he’s the aggravatingly attractive man you’ve come to tolerate. And he’s so incredibly good at fucking into you like this. Abusing you and treating you all with the same hand.
And when you cum, you cum twice as hard.
This is his real present. This look on your face. The feel of your body clenching around him and he enjoys every fucking second of it.
He lets you throw an arm around his shoulders and tug him into your embrace. He lets you hold him and indulge in him and keep him in you for as long as possible.
“Shit,” you say for a third time and he laughs into your neck.
“Anal’s fun, right?”
“Fuck. Yeah. Maybe you were right.”
“I’m always right.”
“…wrong.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t gonna argue with me on my birthday, are you? Cause me and my cock will go right home and leave you here, wet and desperate.”
Your nose scrunches but you laugh and lightly push him away. “God, you’re annoying. I forgot for a second with that post-orgasm bliss but thank god you’re consistent.”
He grins. Smug. “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”
“Yeah…no.”
“Tink.”
“Daddy.”
The sadistic gleam returns. “Don’t test me, baby. I might have been nice, but I can think of plenty of other ways to have fun that won’t exactly be fun for you.”
And you want to test him, you do.
But today is his day. So you decide that you might as well let him win…just this once.
“Fine,” you concede before offering him your most innocent pout. “Please, Daddy…will you fuck my ass?”
And the look on his face…makes it absolutely worth it.
“Turn around.”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!! Thanks for always being so kind and such a beacon of hope and light for so many!!! 💞💞💞💞
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(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, sloppy oral, biting/marking, rough sex. bad german pickup lines)
continuing the part before: visiting his humble abode
Hanging off König’s shoulder.
There honestly isn’t a better place to be, except for maybe right under him. My fingers dig into his back, holding onto him, even though I am secure on his shoulder. He carries me up the stairs easily, I don’t even hear him panting a little harder. And the view on his ass is delicious. I want to pinch it. Or smack it.
My intrusive thoughts win, I stretch down and the palm of my hand collides with his behind, even making a little sound, while I giggle.
“Stop it.” Another spank onto my butt, his hand staying there this time. “It was my plan to show you the whole house first, and then take you to my bedroom…”, he grumbles, but amusement comes through in his voice. “But I should’ve known that you and your bratty ass are not gonna adhere to such an arrangement.” He squeezes my asscheek, his fingers lingering a bit longer, and even that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I just wanted to know if the king had a king-sized bed, I swear.”, I joke, stifling back a laugh.
“Aha.”, he drawls skeptically. “And that’s all?”
“Yep.”, I answer, knowing full well that I know and he knows, that that is in fact not all.
It’s just a few steps from the top of the stairs to the bedroom, when I hear the click of a door and then the light switch. He enters the room and I crane my neck, all nosily, trying to look around. The bedframe, sturdy dark wood, and some bedsheets is all I see before he lifts me from his shoulder again.
“Well, your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he says, the last word sounding a lot like ‘princess’. “I do indeed have a king-sized bed.”
He sets me down on the mattress, lying me down more carefully than I would have liked, to be honest. I look up – and I’m staring back at myself, strewn on the soft sheets. My mouth falls open.
“You have a mirror on your ceiling?”, I ask incredulously. It’s an unnecessary question because – well, I can see that he does have a fucking mirror on the ceiling.
“I do.” He smiles, looking up as well. “You can cover it up, if you don’t wanna watch yourself sleep, but I thought it would be fun for other horizontal activities that don’t involve any actual sleep.”
My breath halts in my throat as I think about his insinuation and unholy images flood my mind. Me riding him, only held up by his arms, while he makes me look up, his hand around my throat. His body strewn over mine, the long strands of his hair cascading down his tattooed back, his huge stature moving with his thrusts. Him sitting back on his knees, spreading my legs wide, so I can see how he’s pounding into me in the mirror above.
“What, nothing to say now, Kleine?” His deep soft voice pulls me out of my little daydream, smirking down at me. And I just shake my head. “Didn’t think I would ever see you speechless.”, he continues teasing me.
I sit back up, looking up at him, which has me craning my head back with the way he is towering over me. “I’m not, look, full sentences are coming out my mouth.”
He smirks at me. “I can see that.” He comes a bit closer still, his hand gripping my chin softly, his thumb strokes over my lower lip, pulling it down a little bit. “So, it’s not just good for mouthing off at me, huh?”
Instead of an answer, my tongue darts out, licking the pad of his thumb. My mouth closing around it, softly sucking once, releasing the digit with a pop. “No.” All the messages I sent him this morning about wanting to suck his dick flood the forefront of my mind.
His gaze darkens, while the smirk widens. For a moment, it seems like we’re suspended in time, then we move even faster. He pulls off his shirt and I do the same, also getting rid of my bra. He helps me with my pants, and when they’re finally on the floor, his hand moves to his belt, opening it, but I softly coax them away, taking over, while I scramble to sit on my legs until I am kneeling in front of him.
Opening the button, lowering the zipper. And instead of the boxershorts I expected, like the ones I saw on the photos he sent this morning – I’m greeted by his hard dick.
Damn. He isn’t wearing any underwear.
I look up at him, being met with a cocky grin.
“Allzeit bereit.”, he comments.
“What?” I can’t hide my confusion.
“’Be prepared’, the scout motto, you know.”, he explains, like that is some common knowledge.
“Uh-huh? So, you’re always prepared for a blowjob?”, I ask him, tauntingly, pulling up one eyebrow. My hands still rest at his zipper, my fingers twitching to finally touch him.
“Well, no, but after all the talking about how you would take me in your mouth this morning...”, he answers, the cockiness not faltering.
“Then why are we still talking about the scout motto, big guy?”, I ask him, a little challenge in my voice.
His reaction is a little sway forward, until the tip rests against my mouth. “Are we?”, he asks, the insinuation sending a shiver down my spine.
His piercing drags across my lower lip and my tongue darts out to lick it. The groan dropping from his throat, the low gravelly sound, makes me do it again. Teasing his tip, until his hips are rutting forward on their own and I drop my jaw, slowly trying to fit more of him into my mouth. I close my lips around his thickness, softly sucking on him.
Pulling back again. Gripping the base of his cock with my hand as I press kisses on it, softer than he probably would have liked. He’s squirming a little bit under my touches, his fingers coasting through my hair, moving it out of my face.
I look up at him meeting his eyes, continuing the teasing touches, until he pushes himself inside my hot wet mouth again.
“Look up.”, he says, pointing at the ceiling. And my eyes turn up further, my neck straining back.
The picture mirrored back to me is pornographic, to say the least.
We’re both looking up at the ceiling, my face turned up, my back and ass fully on display, my legs tucked under it, with the way I’m sitting in front of him. His hand at the back of my neck.
König’s broad chest is taking up so much space, even as he’s leaning back to get a good look at me. The happy trail leading down. My hand lying there, feeling the soft tufts of hair underneath my fingertips.
Our bodies connected with my mouth around his dick.
I suck on him, licking the underside of his shaft, while still looking up, and I can see how his eyes roll back, his pupils disappear, only the whites of his eyes shining.
I move my hand down to his base, cupping his balls, softly tugging. The choked moan from his lips only spurs me on. He grabs me by the back of my head, softly moving me to the rhythm of his hips.
“You teased me all day about using your mouth on me, so I’m really enjoying this right now.”, he whispers, pushing his dick deeper, and I drop my jaw and stick out my tongue to fit more of him.
He hits the back of my throat which has me gag around him while he’s still not nearly fitting into my mouth, not even close. The next push of his dick is even deeper, and my eyes turn up, and I feel like I’m going cross-eyed. I move up and down, as far as I can, blowing him like this. It gets sloppy, messy, spit dripping from my lips. Dropping down onto my tits and tummy.
Tears form in the corners of my eyes, a drop running over my cheek. His hand moves from the back of my head to my face, his thumb stroking over it. “So fucking pretty.”, he coos. He pulls back and I take a deep breath, the sound filling the room instead of my gagging.
But I don’t stop. I use my saliva that’s now coating part of his length to jerk him off, moving my hand down, while I let my tongue play with the piercing on his tip again. Tasting hints of salty precum, as I look up at him. Holding eyecontact while I drag my tongue over it, slowly.
“Oh fuck.”, he almost growls, and the sound sends a zap of pleasure right to my core, making me squirm against the sheets. I feel the urge to touch myself, my hand snaking down between my thighs.
He sees that and tuts, the clicks of his tongue filling the room. “So needy.”, he mutters softly, his hips rutting forward, pushing past my lips again. Fucking into my mouth, as my fingertips reach my clothed pussy, pressing onto my sensitive clit.
I moan around his dick, letting him take the lead, his fingers tangled in my hair, while I touch myself, my hips moving with my desperate strokes. Getting sloppier again.
All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me. “Fuck, not yet.”, he says, seeming a bit worked up. Crouching down and capturing my lips into a searing kiss, as he positions me against his sheets, continuing the kisses down my body.
I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, hard and heavy, glistening wet with my spit, before he kneels in front of me. His fingers hook under the fabric of my panties, pulling them off. They cling onto me, with how damp they are.
“So wet, hm? Did it turn you on to suck me off?”, he whispers, seeing the wetness glistening between my thighs, as he leans down, coasting with his lips over my pussy.
“Yes, fuck.”, I breathe, trying to squirm against his face, but he is just out of reach. He chuckles when I whine, desperate for him to finally put his mouth onto me. And he does, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, his stubble scratching over the sensitive skin.
Close, so close, but not quite where I want him.
He sucks on the soft skin, leaving little red marks, his left hand toying with my pussy. My hips move of their own volition and I can’t believe how the almost-touches make me even more turned on. “Please, I need-“, I start.
I can’t finish the sentence because his teeth sink into my soft flesh, while his fingers slip into me, the sensations almost making me lose my mind. He pushes deeper inside me, and I feel his canines press into the sensitive skin. Fuck, this is driving me crazy.
I lift my head to look at what he’s doing, and our eyes meet. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to the spot he just bit into, licking over it. His fingers still fucking me softly.
“Don’t stop.”, I plead.
The corners of his mouth turn up into a knowing smirk while he places more kisses, slowly inching in on my pussy, leaving another little hickey on my inner thigh. He pulls the digits out and puts his mouth right over it.
The slow, deliberate touches are gone. In a frenzy, he’s losing himself in my pussy, licking, sucking, nudging his nose against my clit. I move with him, dragging myself over his lips, searching for more friction, and the sounds that drop from my mouth are almost obscene.
My head drops back and I have the whole scene mirrored back to me from above. The strands of his long dark hair cascading down. His back tattoo, the black ink on his taut muscles, moving with him, as he eats me out.
How he grips my thighs, his hands digging into the supple swells. Spreading me wide for him.
He looks up at me, seeing the awe on my face, hearing the sounds I’m making, which makes him hum against me. Diving in again. His tongue licks into me, fucking me, and my back arches off the sheets, my hands clutching them. Close, so close to-
Ding-dong!
We’re interrupted by the bell.
He lifts his head, seeming a little drunk on pussy, judging by the drowsy look on his face. “Fuck, that’s the delivery.”, he stammers and the back of his hand wipes over his mouth.
“What delivery?”, I ask, confused and hazy with pleasure, propping my head up from the sheets.
“Food.”, he explains, and like on cue, my stomach grumbles.
He pulls away from me, looking around, picking up random pieces of clothing. He scrambles to put a shirt and shorts on while I can’t help but laugh because of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thats on you, Mädl, for messing with my meticulously planned evening, with your siren call.”, he grumbles, which only makes me laugh harder.
He fits his dick into his pants, the erection tenting up the front, and he grumpily pulls his shirt down further, even though that doesn’t really help either with hiding it. “Fuck it.”, he cusses and heads out the room, cursing some more in German.
I shake my head, grinning like a crazy person.
I also look for some clothes, but I’m not quite bold enough to reach for any of his shirts, putting on my own and then my panties, following him down the stairs.
“Ooh, you remembered my favourite spot!”, I say when I see the huge bag with the familiar logo on it in his hands.
He grins at me, and my god, a man has never looked that good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt and some old Adidas shorts that are almost too tight for his burly thighs. He pushes his hair to the side, pulling it out of the t-shirt, because some of it got caught in there when he hurriedly put it on. “Of course. Should I put it in the kitchen oooor…?”, he asks.
“Can we eat now? I’m actually a little hungry, I didn’t have a big lunch.”, I tell him hesitatingly. Swaying from one bare foot to the other, looking down at them. Unsure, because I mean, we were in the middle of-
But he pushes my doubts away in just a moment, putting his arm around me and pressing a tiny kiss onto the top of my head. “Sure, can’t have you go hungry, hm?” and the relief lets my shoulders drop down, even if my worries were a bit stupid to begin with.
“You want to eat at the bar?”, he suggests then, his eyebrows raised as he grins at me.
“Wha- You have a bar in this house?”, I clarify.
He nods. “Yeah, like a whole room with- Come on. I’ll just show you.” He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, as he pulls me with him, the bag full of take-away food in the other one. Way too much for two people.
When I follow him downstairs, it first dawns on me that we never really held hands before. It seems so simple, so normal – so natural, that I don’t even register it at first. I smile to myself, gripping his hand tighter, trying to keep up with his steps.
I have to say, the house is meticulously upkept, there’s yet a spot I have to see untidy or dusty. Which is… kind of amazing, especially considering that he only stays here on his leave. The same goes for his cellar that is more like another floor, where we halt in front of two doors. He gestures in the direction of the right one, while actually stepping towards the one on the left. “That’s my home gym and that’s the bar.”, he says.
“You… also… have a gym?”, I ask, a bit incredulous. Man, this house is bigger than I thought, when I first saw it from the outside.
“Yeah, I mean I train almost every day. Uh, holding up my shape doesn’t get easier with age.”, he explains, with a lopsided smile. Of course he works out. I’ve seen his body and my god. Sure, he has his little tummy – that I adore –, but his strength clearly comes from a lot of hard training. It makes sense that he also keeps this up when on leave.
“Can I take a look?”, I ask, being my nosy self.
He shrugs, but smiles. “Sure.”
For a moment, I regret asking that, because I have to let his hand go. I sigh and pop my head in the door. Nice standard equipment, not a lot of machines. A treadmill, and a lot of weights, barbells and dumbbells. It looks any other gym would, right down to the mirrors spanning the whole wall (he seems to like those); you would have never guessed it was a private one in a cellar.
The star of the show is definitely the little bar next door. I enter the room right after him, chuckling a bit to myself when I see him ducking his head to fit through doorframe – even in his own home.
A worn-out leather couch to the left. The dark grey painted wall behind it is littered with plaques like you would find in a pub.
A pool table at the right side of the room, and then the mahogany bar on the back wall right in the middle. Bottles of liquor in rows, glasses in all shapes and sizes. When he flicks the light switch behind the bar, all of it lights up, in a warm orange hue.
Another fridge, with a glass door, though it’s half empty.
Three bar stools lined up neatly in front of the bar and I take a seat on one of them, feeling the leather top against my bare ass and thighs, with how my t-shirt rides up.
He sets the take-away bag down on the counter, getting two plates from one of the lower cabinets and two forks. Then he starts unpacking, producing container after container until I think there might be more people joining us, with how much he ordered.
“Take whatever you want, I’ll eat the rest.”, he tells me, waiting for me to actually do that.
“Is uh-“, I start, but he interrupts me with a smile. “Everything’s vegetarian, Liebes.”, he nods. “I checked. Twice.”
My face lights up and I look at the containers, inspect the different dishes and put a little bit of everything on my plate. With a double portion of the little spring rolls I like so much. He waits until I’m done getting my plate together and then just dumps one of the meals onto his.
I watch him eat, as he’s leaning against the counter, shoveling huge amounts of food in his mouth, while being very meticulous and methodical about it. Eating efficiently. This man eats to sustain, not to enjoy. There are parts of him, that I think are shaped by his profession, and this seems to be one of them.
I hide the half-smile that stalks onto my face as I see him standing there behind the bar, casually wolfing down the first plate of food, then a second one. I rope him into a conversation of how he put the room together while we have dinner like this. My feet dangle above the ground as I eat spoonsful of delicious Asian take-away, very content with sitting here like this. With him.
He looks back at the wall behind him, like an idea just came to his mind, and then back at me. I pull up one of my eyebrows, still munching on a spring roll.
“You want a cocktail?”, he asks me, grinning.
“Uh, sure, you know how to make one?”, I return the question.
“Äh, ja-ah! If I wasn’t a soldier, I would’ve become a bartender, for sure.”, he jokingly states, winking at me, and I almost melt into the floor. “I can make a decent enough drink.”, he then clarifies, the spark in his eyes still a little mischievous. “So, what do you want then? A moscow mule? Or a dirty martini?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Or an orgasm?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can't help but laugh, even though I roll my eyes at him.
"Brute.”, I take a jab at him. “My favourite is actually a gin fizz.", I say, then.
"Really? I did not see that coming.", he comments.
"Why?"
"I don't know, maybe I expected something sweet tasting. Like you." His gaze darkens, while he is still grinning at me. A sudden hunger glints in his eyes while he looks at me, like he's thinking about it. How he ate me out when we got so rudely interrupted, by the delivery – even though it was delicious.
A tingle runs up my spine, just from the way he's looking at me. I suppress a shiver, because the feeling doesn't dissipate when his eyes drop away, looking around the bar.
"Hmm, I think I have a fresh lemon here somewhere.", he mutters to himself.
I prop my cheek on my arm, that’s leaning on the bar, and watch him fix me the drink.
He takes a crystal tumbler from the shelves and inspects some of the bottles, until he decides on one. I don't know the brand, but it certainly looks fancy. Ice cubes into the shaker, simple sirup and gin following shortly.
He’s almost dancing behind the bar counter, with the way he’s getting the ingredients, preparing this rather simple drink.
He cuts the lemon in half and just squeezes it, the juice dripping down into the shaker. Another person might have used a citrus-press. Not him though.
His hair whipping back and forth as he turns around, putting the top on the shaker and hitting the top once. A little spank that I feel…somewhere else… for reasons.
He starts to shake the cocktail, and it’s ridiculous how small the shaker is in his huge hands, he doesn’t even need both to hold it shut. Watching my reaction as he flips and spins it between his fingers, the ridiculous movements pulling laughs from me. Repeating the ones that do. The huge burly man, being the scary looking dude he is, while at the same time not being scary at all. At least not to me. When he’s here with me, like this.
He pours the drink over the ice cubes and fills the rest of the glass with soda, just like the recipe calls for. Taking the little zest of lemon he saved, squeezing it once and then putting it in.
König takes a sip, trying it. ‘Not bad’ is what the grimace on his face tells me before he hands me the tumbler and I take a drink. The bitter notes of gin and the sour sting of lemon juice hit my tongue.
“Nice drink, barkeep.”, I say, taking another sip and put the drink down in front of him. He drinks as well, downing at least half with one single gulp.
“Sind Sie eigentlich öfter hier?”, he asks me, with a sultry smile, not seeming serious at all.
“What does that mean? Funny man, I don’t speak your language.”, I tell him.
He laughs. “It’s flirtingly asking somebody if they come here often. It became a running gag in German as a bad pickup line.”
"Really? And that works?", I ask, skeptically pulling an eyebrow up.
He shrugs, leans forward, against the bar, coming closer and closer, until his face is just inches from mine. "No, it doesn't, but if I see a beautiful woman, I have to try it nonetheless.", he almost purrs. His fucking voice deeper than I ever heard it before. With the way he's looking at me, pure unadulterated lust in his eyes, he pulls me in.
His fingers softly stroke over the inside of my arm, until the thumb reaches my pulsepoint, the pad pressing into it lightly – just once – before he pulls it closer and presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin. His eyes don’t break away from mine for even a moment.
My mouth falls open. My breath is getting caught in my throat and I can feel a pang of need between my thighs, the tingling feeling trickling up my spine.
He straightens back up again, just a little bit, beaming at me with a cocky grin. "See, and that works every time.", he taunts me.
"Well, I'll say.", I answer, still a little out of breath, which makes him laugh, but also come closer again.
"Yeah?", he asks softly. "You think, I can get a kiss from the beautiful woman at the bar like this?"
I nod, lifting myself off the barstool, to meet his lips in a kiss. “Maybe also a second kiss.”, I say, deepening it. My tongue strokes against his, teasing, and tasting the gin on his breath.
"Will the barkeeper also take the beautiful woman to his king size bed?", I ask him, which might be considered bold, if it was indeed a beautiful woman propositioning the barkeeper at the bar who had been flirting with her all evening. But it's just König and me, sitting here together in comfy clothes after we shared a meal. And I'm eager to finish what we started before.
"Hmmm, they are the only two left in the bar, so the barkeeper might just close it up to bend the beautiful woman over the bar and take her right here and now.", he spins my little story further.
"Well, that would be entirely possible, if they had some protection.", I retort, but the imagination alone is making me hot.
A little square foil packet suddenly appears in his hand, almost like out of thin air – more likely from his pocket. "Didn't tell you, I'm not only a barkeeper, but also a magician?", he says, a grin breaking through his expression, even if he tries to stay serious.
I have to laugh so hard I almost fall off the barstool, with the way my body is shaking from laughter ripping through me.
This man. It's quite unfair, to pair his dry wit with those good looks. I mean, it might not be to everybody's taste, but in my book tall, dark and brooding always works – though in his case, the notion of that much rather stems from the way he looks, not the way he is – and him being hilarious like this, especially when I don’t see it coming, definitely has me on my tiptoes.
“A man of many talents, I see.”, I tease him.
“Don’t you know it.”, he says, capturing my smile in a kiss again, barely breaking it to join me on my side of the bar.
I'm practically bent over the bar already, with the way my ass barely touches the seat and I was leaning over to kiss him, trying to get as close to him as possible. He just has to lift my hips a little bit, until I'm truly strewn over the smooth wooden surface.
He doesn't hesitate to pull my panties down, the wet fabric clinging onto me. It doesn’t take much, I’m so wound tight already, because we got interrupted. His fingers coast over the sensitive skin, and I squirm against his touch, holding onto the bar.
"Please, just- do me.", I beg, not minding how desperate that makes me sound.
"Your wish is my command.", he repeats his little quip from earlier this evening. He pulls the shorts down just low enough to take his dick out, the length resting against my ass, and I can't resist moving my hips a little bit, grinding back into him.
"Stop it.", he grumbles, spanking my buttcheek once, with the other hand. "Impatient brat.", he calls me which pulls a little chuckle from my lips.
The ripping of the foil, the snap of rubber, and then his dick nudges against me, dipping into me – just the tip. Fuck, I just want him inside me. He pulls back and repeats the motion a few times, until he finally sinks into me. Giving me a few moments to adjust myself to his length, his hands squeezing my tight ass, before he starts to pound into me.
Harder than last time he fucked me from behind because he isn’t limited by the tight space of his car’s backseat.
“Yes, yes, fuck.”, I whine, the little pleas intermingling with the resounding claps of skin against skin. The whole bar is shaking, the sturdy wood holding out against his hard thrusts.
His hands let go of my ass, his arms framing my body, holding onto the bartop. Using it as leverage to fuck me a tiny bit rougher. And I take everything he’s giving me, relishing the feeling of losing myself in the hard fucking.
Over 300 pounds pushing me up against the furniture, his dick pushing deep inside me. The tip slamming against my cervix, which is making me lose my mind fast.
Groans and mewls drop from my lips with every push into me, the sounds getting louder when he hits that sensitive spot inside me. I almost wanna bite my lip, but I know better than that by now. I know he wants to hear me.
Suddenly, he pulls himself out of me, and for a split second, I'm confused. But instead, his fingers slip into me, the sensations getting rid of my thoughts.
"Fucking hell, you're soaked.", he groans, his digits working in and out of me, the wet sounds almost obscene. The whines dropping from my lips as they stroke over the sensitive spot inside, the same one that his dick was flitting over just moments ago.
"Oh, fuck.", I moan, the intense stimulation making me shake, desperately holding onto the hard surface beneath me, as I cum on his fingers. He pulls them out again, and I whimper because of the sudden loss of fullness. He bends forward, his hands spreading my cheeks, while he laps up the wetness. The hurried licks of his tongue against the sensitive skin prolonging my orgasm, making me shiver.
He straightens back up and lifts me from the bar and just flips me around, setting me down on the wood again, so that I face him. The expression on his face, the hooded lids, the drowsiness in his eyes, the satisfied smirk, his lips glistening of my juices, … Yeah, no man ever has looked this good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt.
My arms reach back, propping myself up on the bar, and my legs spread in an instant, inviting him in. His eyes drop down to my pussy, dripping and still needy. He positions himself, gripping his rubbered-up dick at the base, dragging it over my clit, teasing my entrance with his tip. Driving us both crazy, I can see it on his face.
"Fuck, please...", I whine, my hips bucking up against him.
With a chuckle, he's slipping into my wetness again, easily. Stretching me around his dick and I groan when he bottoms me out, being a little overstimulated already.
He's fucking me in this position, hard just like before, my hips almost at the perfect height, because a normal table would have never been tall enough. I scramble to even hold on, my hands gripping his shoulders now instead of the surface beneath me, trying to not get shaken off it, but he holds me firm in his grasp, holding me steadfast, so his hard fucking doesn’t push me off.
"I'm not gonna make it for much longer.", he grunts quietly, almost like an apology. “’m close, fuck. Gonna come." A deep breath shakes his chest.
My hand extends to cup his face, and even though he seems almost lost in his search for release, he nearly stills.
"Do it. Come for me.", I whisper, my lips coasting against his.
The sound that escapes his throat is a desperate one, and he pulls me tighter against him. One arm around my waist, his hand on my hip, the fingertips digging into the supple swell. My fingers stroke through his hair, the soft strands, and I press my lips to his.
And he kisses me with a frenzy, until I feel his spine stiffen up and a short deep moan against my lips.
He shudders, his whole body shaking, as he spills inside me, his hips still rutting forward, and for a moment I wish, the condom between us wasn't there. Some creampie for dessert.
"Fuck...", he breathes, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, his orgasm finally subsiding. “You okay?”
I nod, a faint ‘yes’ in my lips, and I slump against him, holding onto his waist, breathing heavily. Relishing the embrace, as he pulls me even closer with his strong arms. I breathe in his warm comforting scent, the fabric of the shirt rough against my cheek, as I nuzzle into him.
“I believe there is integral part of my home which you haven’t seen yet.”, he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of my face.
“Really?”, I ask, resting against his huge sweaty chest, my hands still tangled in his t-shirt.
Instead of answering, he lifts me off the surface, my legs closing around his waist. My panties are somewhere, but not covering my pussy that is sitting against his hips. But he doesn’t seem to care that I'm staining his shirt with my wetness. I mean, getting pussy juice on a Cannibal Corpse shirt has to be an achievement on its own, right? I giggle to myself, as he carries me up to his bathroom.
The shower indeed seems spacious enough for him to kneel down – contrary to the one in my apartment.
His hands lather up some soap and start to move over my body, the warmth of his fingers coasting over me. Softly cleaning me and washing away the suds. Refusing to let me do the same for him.
He gets down on his knees, lowering himself even further to the floor, to be right where he wants to be. At eye-level with my pussy. He lifts my left leg, placing it over his shoulder, and presses his face between my thighs. Licking and sucking eagerly.
The spray of water from above hits his hair as well, wetting and darkening the long strands, while my fingers tangle in them, my other hand looking for somewhere to hold onto. The cool tiles press into my back, while the water raining down on us and his huge warm body heat me up. My screams echo off the walls as he makes me come on his tongue, my legs almost giving out while his arms hold me up, not stopping until I’m spent.
We get out of the shower after having been in there for way too long, wasting water standing under the spray. He hands me a bathtowel and I wrap myself in it, just standing there. Watching him dry himself off. He’s quick and methodical about it, the soft fabric stroking over his wet skin, soaking up everything.
He hangs up his towel, and I try not to stare at his naked tattooed body. I mean, I’ve seen him like this before. Also, his dick has just been inside me, but I still can’t help it. I can’t tear my eyes off of him.
“What?”, he asks, as he sees me staring.
“Nothing, just looking at you.”, I say, pulling the towel tighter around me, cocooning myself up.
He comes closer. “Looking comfy.”, he comments, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“I am.”, I answer, and his arms close around me, pressing me against his broad naked chest.
“Stay the night?”, he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Me all huddled up in the huge bathtowel can only nod and grin up at him.
next part: waking up in his bed or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
a/n: a special long chapter for the start of the weekend... i hope you guys had as much fun reading it, as i had writing it, gonna go take a cold shower now 🫠
#metalhead!könig#she likes the dark#könig#könig cod#könig mw2#konig#konig cod#konig mw2#könig fanfiction#cod mw2 smut#könig smut#konig smut#cod smut#könig x reader#tw: age gap
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Bunny Nayeon
Fluff, Smut (sex, penetration, creampie, bunny suit)
Chapter 229
1500 Words
(The both of you go on a small trip together to celebrate Nayeon’s Birthday and having some quality time. Like always, this leads to a bit of fun and some fluff.)
You're taking a few days off to Jeju island with your girlfriend, Nayeon, for her birthday. She's been hinting at visiting the island for the past few weeks to take the first, and luckily, you caught on and reserved a short trip with her.
During the first two days, both of you enjoyed some sightseeing around the island. That night after the second day, you and Nayeon enjoy dinner at the house. You both enjoy some barbecue and beers to celebrate her early birthday.
“I love spending time with you alone, babe.”
“Yes, it’s been a while since we spent some time outside.”
Nayeon shyly presses her chest against your arm and says, “How about having some fun together?”
“What did you have in mind?”
She gives you a small smirk, “you know…”
“You mean…”
“Yeah… I even brought a small surprise that I think you’ll like.” She continues to press her chest against your arm and can feel your dick waking up from its nap. She looks down and sees a small bulge. “Our little friend here seems to have woken up,” and she presses her hand on it.
“You're being proactive today,” as you caress your hand under her chin.
“It's just that we're here alone. There's no one to bother us,” as she continues to stroke her hand on your bulge. She can see your member slowly wake up, “Wait here. I'll be right back.”
You get up, put the dishes away in the sink, and clean the tables down when you hear Nayeon shout from the upstairs room, “Can you come up here?”
You’re mid-way to the hallway when you see Nayeon, and your jaw drops. “What do you think? Do you like it?”
In front of you is Nayeon, wearing a white bunny costume. The outfit leaves little to the imagination: a one-piece suit with a bunny tail and an earpiece. Nayeon turns around, shows you her nice thighs, and shakes her small butt. She tells you to come over using her finger, and you drop the towel on the floor and rush upstairs.
Nayeon runs towards the master suite, yelling because you are chasing her. You climb onto the bed to get to the other side, but Nayeon stops you. She places a finger on your lips, “It’s my birthday, so I want to unwrap my present that’s hiding under those pants.” She bites her lip, teasing you. No other words are needed as you start to take off your shirt and then your pants, leaving you in boxers.
You’re now sitting on the corner of the bed with Nayeon sitting on your lap. She kisses you, twisting her long tongue throughout your mouth, even sucking on it. You grab her hips, smacking her ass which makes her yelp. She pushes you down and begins to grind on you. “Do you like that? Do you like it when I dry hump you?”
Your cock is starting to pitch a tent under your boxers, and Nayeon sees it, “You’re going to be mine tonight.”
”Yes, I’m all yours.”
”How does it feel not being the one in charge?”
”Hot. I love it when Noona rides me,” teasing her.
”Hey, who told you to call me that?”
“Just want to tease you.”
“You’re making me feel old.”
”How does it feel fucking someone younger?”
”I’m not old; we’re only a few months apart.”
”Haha, you’re still older.”
“Shut up,” and Nayeon pushes you down, attacking you by bitting your shoulder with her bunny teeth. She lifts her head and looks at you before going back and nibbling on your shoulder.
After a while, she sticks out her tongue and licks where she just bit you. When she's done, you get up and see the area where she but you are completely red and wet from her drool.
“You left me a mark.”
“Didn't give me much of a choice; you were making fun of me and calling me old.”
“Sorry, baby.”
“Just don't do it again, and I won't bite you.” You nod, agreeing with her. She then starts to ride you again with her thin fabric rubbing against your groin.
Nayeon looks at you with hungry eyes and bites her lip, “I'm going to eat that carrot of yours right up,” and moves the fabric that's covering her cunt. You see a thick amount of nectar drip and cover your stomach. She moves your pants and places your cock between her wet lower lips. Nayeon slowly rides you, her pussy lips coating cock with her nectar, “How does my pussy feel? Do you like it?”
“Yes, it feels so good; it wraps around me so perfectly.”
Nayeon smiles at your compliment and puts more of her weight on your cock. You place your hands on her ass cheeks and give them a good grab.
She continues to tease you for a few more minutes until she feels your cock throbbing. “Oh no, you can't now.”
She lifts herself up and grabs your cock with my hand, and aligns herself to her entrance. You watch as she traces her folds with your cock before penetrating herself.
“Oh fuck… you're so big, I missed this feeling,” as the tip of your dick spreads her pussy open. She tries to adjust herself to your length, but you can't wait any longer. You grab her by the hips and pull her down, impaling her with your large cock.
“Ah fuck!” Nayeon’s whole body spasms; her cunt clenches on your cock as she has her orgasm. You see her body shake violently, squirting you with love juice. Nayeon drops her body onto you as you hold her tight in your arms.
You don’t give her a chance to rest as you begin to thrust inside of her. “Babe, I’m still sensitive, wait…” she whines out loud. She places her hands on your abs and tightens her thighs around your waist as you fuck her. “Fuck… you’re tightening your walls.”
”Ahh…ahh…just like that… keep on going.”
It doesn’t take too long for you to reach your peak, “I’m going to cum, Nayeon noona.”
”I told you not to call me noona!” Nayeon tightens her walls, gripping your cock to the point of no return, “where should I…”
“Inside, breed me like a bunny!”
“If that's the case, then take it all!”
You feel the hotness in your core disperse as you flood Nayeon with a large wave of thick cum. She arches her back, feeling your baby batter invade her hungry womb. The more you pump your cum inside her, the more her walls milk you.
“Fill me up, mark this bunny pussy as yours, and let's have some bunnies,” as she digs her nails into your chest.
After having her womb filled with your cum she slips off your cock and onto the bed, rubbing her face on your chest. The two of you enjoy your time together before cleaning up and getting ready for bed.
Coming out of the bathroom, she jumps onto the bed, “You filled me so much that I had a hard time cleaning up.”
“You told me to do it inside, so I did, haha.”
“I noticed you came more than usual. Did me telling you about making some bunnies turn you on?”
You try to hide your expression, and you can see her smiling. “Haha, you do! Hahaha.” She rubs her face on the pillow and turns to face the opposite side of you, imagining the idea of having children with you.
You lie on your side, embarrassed, and cover yourself with a blanket. After a few minutes, you feel a tap on your shoulder, “I wouldn't mind having your children, maybe sometime in the near future. As for right now, we can try having all the sex we want; I'll even let you put your cock inside me whIle we sleep” teasing you. She pulls her shorts down and spreads her cheeks, giving you a view, and sticks her butt out.
“Do you want to put it in?”
You don't even need to respond as you take off your own shorts, grabbing your flaccid cock and pulling Nayeon closer to you. With one hand, you spread her cheeks a bit more and insert your cock inside her.
She wiggles her butt and moans as she feels your cock, “Hmm… it’s not even hard, but it’s reaching deep inside.” Nayeon continues to grind her butt on your pelvis, making you hard and feeling you grow inside of her.
“Ahh…so big.”
She places her hand on her belly and rubs the small bulge on her pelvis, “You’re so big that it wants to poke out.” The two of you slowly fall asleep, embracing each other throughout the night.
#twice smut#kpop smut#male reader#twice#twice fluff#kpop fluff#nayeon fluff#twice nayeon#nayeon smut#im nayeon#nayeon#idol x male reader#girl idol smut#reader x idol#kpop idol smut#kpop male reader#kpop reader#TM smut
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masterlist
dirt
sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...
title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.
I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl
cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).
He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.
"The fuck, girl?"
You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"
You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.
"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."
You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.
"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.
Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.
Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.
"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."
Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.
You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.
"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.
Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.
And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.
He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.
It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.
His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.
"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.
Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.
"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.
When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.
Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.
"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."
You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.
He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.
"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.
"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."
You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.
"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"
He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.
"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.
You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"
You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.
"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.
A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.
"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.
Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.
And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.
With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.
Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.
"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.
And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.
Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.
Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.
"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.
Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.
Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.
"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.
He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.
"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."
"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.
It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.
The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.
The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.
"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.
Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.
Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.
Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.
You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.
Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.
Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.
Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.
You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.
But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.
In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.
But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.
I don't know what to say for myself
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#female reader#twd smut#not tagging this with norman reedus bc i have posted my face before and I'm not that bold#or am I?
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