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GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! 💖

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller the last of us #joel miller au #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel fanfic

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anne-bsd-bibliophile · 17 hours

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"You can't go around judging people on first impressions. That's how mistakes get made." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"The police investigate footprints and look for fingerprints. I take the results of these investigations and by piecing together all the available information logically, I am able to reach a conclusion. Those are my methods of deduction." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"The Killer had submitted the problem of a locked room murder and dared us to solve it. It was going to be a battle of wits. Perfect. Challenge accepted! If it was brains and logic and wit that were required, I was ready to do battle." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"In our world there are some things so dreadful, so terrifying that you would scarcely believe they existed. They are things that common sense and accepted practice would dictate are impossible, but they do exist. Out of reason... that's right. It's a mad state of affairs." - Yokomizo Seishi, Death on Gokumon Island

"Yet, while his unchanging gratitude and devotion to the priest's family were certainly commendable, Sahei failed to realize that everything - even gratitude - has a limit that should not be exceeded, and that his excessive gratitude toward the Nonomiya family would embroil his own kin in a series of bloody murders after his death." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"Thirty years can weave strange patterns in the tapestry of life." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"With the blind spot that had been hindering his thought process finally removed, everything had fallen into place for him with great speed. All day yesterday, he had been stacking building blocks of deductive reasoning in his mind, with the result that now he had reproduced the entire complex structure of the mystery." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"Were it not for the events that I am about to relate, doubtless my life would have continued in that impoverished, humdrum vein. But one day a spot of red was suddenly split on the grey of my life: I embarked on an adventure of dazzling mystery and stepped into a world of blood-chilling terror." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves

"Nothing is more frightening in this world than ignorance and stupidity." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves

"The events I am about to describe are filled with such darkness and sadness, are so cursed and hate-filled, that not a word I write can possibly offer the faintest glimmer of hope or relief. Even as the author, I cannot predict what the final sentence will be, but I fear that the relentless dread and darkness that precede it may end up overcoming the readers and crush their very spirits in its grasp." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders

"Everyone here is a bit twisted somehow. All they feel for each other is suspicion, resentment and fear. I couldn't tell you why that is. It's as if they're all just waiting for their chance to stick the knife in. As if they think that if they don't, then they'll be on the other end of the blade." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders

Yokomizo Seishi has also been added to the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library!

You can find more information about Yokomizo-sensei on the following pages: List of Books in English Quotes and Facts Collection Fun Facts Author Connections

#yokomizo seishi #seishi yokomizo #japanese literature #quotes #the honjin murders #death on gokumon island #the village of eight graves #the inugami curse #the devil's flute murders #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #book recs

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andersonlore · 2 days

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high sex with dina…. high sex with dina……

kiss of heaven | dina

tags: eighteen+, sexual content, cannabis sex, oral (dina!r), face sitting, , dub-con (both reader and dina are high).

an. here's my first fic of dina! it's not perfect by any means by i kinda like it?? i hope you enjoy it as well.

there’s something special about it. firsts always are. the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the serotonin getting sent through your head when someone new kisses you for the first time, the very beginnings of an orgasm never been given by them, the shivers traveling up your spine with a promise of something more. it’s all so inviting your doe-eyed heart welcomes it with open arms.

but this isn’t the case.

dina sitting on your lap the entire night, taking hit after hit, the both of you lost in the feeling of what could’ve been all night. now, the both of you are too far lost in the lust of weed, all you can think about is fucking her. she’s been grinding back into you all night, as if it’s not torturing you to no end. you’re sure you’ve soaked yourself through and it would be embarrassing. possibly. desperately, you crave her more than anyone, you just need to be satiated. or sedated if she turns you down.

you’ve both been here before, years ago, but it feels just as it’s always been. somehow, you knew this would be your fate tonight. tongue tied with the woman you’ve never been able to get over. she comes into your life like nothing has changed. you let her, it makes you feel like a love struck idiot all over again.

well, tonight. you’re more high strung than anything. the both of you are.

the white of your eyes populated by red little lines, hooded as you have her pinned to the wooden door of a vacant room. all you have is a simple bra concealing your from her, delicate panties accentuating her divine hips. soft skin to the touch as you rub her hip bone with the pad of your thumb, drawing goosebumps in your wake.

you can’t help but look at her perfectly sculpted breast, soft stomach, the collarbones you crave to sink your teeth into. it’s what you dreamed of. even if inebriation took over you both, if you got to have her? it didn’t really matter at all. not really.

locking the door, you’re pulling her towards the bed as you take a seat in the middle as she stands there for you. “take them off.” you command, gesturing with a tilt of your head. she slips them off, not so gracefully, tripping as she does so. she warns you with her warm eyes to not utter a fucking word.

but you can’t help the small giggle you try to stifle. it’s impossible to conceal.

“you sure you want to test me?” she pushes, raising her bold eyebrows at you. intentionally, you snap your bra off before saying “no ma’am. wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.” instantly, the power becomes hers. as if it was ever anything different. a silent hope, wanting to have it for once, but with her? you crumble.

her beautifully dark hair is a mess, from your endless pulling. “can you, um—” she raises her expressive brows indicating for you to give in and tell her. you try your best, but you’re so distracted by her beauty, the cannabis taking over as you’re impossibly wet, drooling over having your dream girl back. even if it’s for a short time, she’s here.

“i want you to sit on my face, tonight. please?” she stalks you like her prey, climbing up your body before resting at your hips, before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “hm, finally seems like someone learned their manners.” the soft chuckle cured you of the last time before she wastes no more time. not a fucking second.

it’s all so quick. happening in a flash of your eyes, maybe it’s the weed and maybe it’s just her. the instant sigh released from her lips makes your thighs clench. you’re thankful she is facing you or else she’d make you split them apart. you know she would.

it’s been too long since you’ve had her. your tongue licking a bold strip from her clit, sliding down her labia until lightly dipping into her hold before traveling back up her pearl of pleasure. you’re missing the way her head is being thrown back with your eyes shut as you suckle on your favorite meal. being deprived of the sweet taste of her cunt for so long, you eat it up as if you’ve been starved.

“s’good baby, fuck. forgot how good your mo—” you spit dramatically on her cunt, smothering your spit on her pussy with your thumb, applying light pressure on her clit. “yeah , you should have never forgotten, baby. i always take care of you, don’t i?” slapping her supple ass with your free hand.

dina sinks down the extra weight she’d been holding, suffocating you with her slick. you open your eyes for a moment to take her in, only to find she’s looking right back. “hi angel” she whispers, making you giggle softly.

desperately, you’re trying to recall the last time she’s been this light hearted but you can’t. is it possible she’s changed? fuck, the possibility of new beginning is sent throughout your cunt. the idea only latches onto your brain for a moment before dina’s moaning again, rolling her hips deliciously, fucking your face and looking gorgeous doing it.

“is this what you want, huh? fuck…need to cum so fucking badly.” she moves her hips quickly, lost in the way you’re fucking the shit of her. skilled tongue giving her your best, hoping she’ll paint yours in return. she knows she never would’ve succumbed so easily if it wasn’t for the cannabis. dina, always one to savor. not go through the motions so quickly, but now she doesn’t really give a shit. all she craves is the high she knows you can offer.

fully focusing on her clit, you suck the pearl into your mouth, flicking your tongue over, over, and over. dina’s delicious thighs began to shake. irrevocably so. it’s her tell. right before she cums, each and every time, they shake. high pitched moans escape as she tries to regain composure but it’s useless. she’s far gone and you’re more than happy to send her tumbling over the edge.

“jus’ let go baby, yeah? just me ‘nd you. cum for me mommy? please?” you pause before saying what you know will send her over the edge. “c’mon, making a fucking mess all over my face. i can’t take it, babygirl. promise.”

#guys....i dont think i can write cute little blurbs anymore #actually crying about it #dina nolastname #dina woodward #dina x reader #dina x female reader #dina smut #dina nolastname x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina woodward smut #tlou x reader #dina x masc reader

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lovesphases · 3 days

Note

JJ taking care of hypersensitive!reader by cradling her nd fingering her:(

wrote this half asleep, not proofread. MDNI 18+. sorry this took so long, hope you like it my love.

you were sitting at your vanity getting ready for your date with jj. you were blasting your favorite playlist, humming along to the music while applying your makeup. jj had finished getting ready a while ago and was now just sitting on your bed waiting for you.

you lean closer to the mirror, needing all your focus to go into your eyeliner. you turn to your boyfriend after finishing one eye.

“hey baby does my eyeliner look okay?”

“yes it looks perfect baby.” you hum in acknowledgment and then back to do the other eye. your good mood instantly turns sour when your hand slips and you mess up your eyeliner.

“ughhh!” you throw your eyeliner down and cover your face with your hands.

your boyfriend walks over to where you’re sitting. “baby what’s wrong? what happened.” the last bit of restraint you had in you snaps when you look up at him, his face full of worry. tears start streaming past your mascara clad eyelashes.

“what- hey why are you crying? talk to me?” jj squats down, holding your hands in his.

“i messed up my eyeliner.” you let out a sniffle, the tears still pouring down your face.

“it’s okay baby come here. we don’t have to go anywhere we can just stay here. yeah?” he lifts you into his arms carrying you into the bed. he places you into his lap, wiping your tears away. “let me help you feel better mama.” you nod your head, embarrassment slowly starting to gnaw at your insides.

he kisses your head, sliding one hand across your stomach under your shirt, and laying his other hand across your chest. your breath comes out as a small gasp when he begins rubbing his pinky up and down your stomach, slowly coming in contact with the waistband of your shorts.

“shhhh, just relaxxxx mama. i got you.” he leans his head down, placing small kisses on your neck, your eyes slowly closing.

he slips his fingers past the band of your shorts, not moving them any further. you let out a small impatient whine as your hips slightly buck up, needing friction. jj lets out a chuckle underneath his breath, sensing your desperation he finally makes contact with your pulsing cunt.

a sigh of relief expels from your lips when he finally drags his fingers through your sticky folds. “always so wet for me.”

“mhm” is the only response you can give, nuzzling your head underneath jj’s chin.

you let out quiet whimpers as he drags small circles across your clit. “wanna take these shorts off for me?” you nod, your hands shooting to your shorts, eagerly sliding them off.

he hooks his arm under your knees, bringing them to your chest. before you can question what he’s doing, his fingers are back on your glistening pussy. he slides a finger inside you, slowly pumping in and out. you let out a moan, eyes already filling with tears. he adds another finger, moving faster. your hips jerk as you let out a loud cry.

“does that feel good pretty girl?”

“mhm. really good.” his fingers curl inside you, the burning sensation in your tummy slowly intensifying. the only noises filling the room right now is your whimpers and the squelching of your pussy.

your nails dig into his thigh when his palm perfectly hits your clit with each thrust. “i love you so much. you’re so beautiful.” jj murmurs into your hair, causing you to clench around his fingers. “loveyoutoo” your breath hitches in your throat, your release getting closer and closer.

“you gonna cum for me baby?”

“yes!” you let out a loud squeal as his pace increases. “i’m gonna-” your release gushes out of you before you can even finish warning him.

“thereeeee you go. that’s it.” he helps you ride out your high, before slowly removing his fingers from your now sensitive cunt. you turn around, giving jj a long kiss, doing your best at pouring as much love into it as you possibly can.

you place a series of kisses on his lips before laying your head on his chest. “thank you jj.”

“you’re welcome pretty girl. now let’s go take off that makeup while i order us food. then we can watch a movie. how does that sound?” he runs his hand through your hair.

“okay” you hum out, getting up and making your way to the bathroom. jj’s heart swells with love, grateful he gets to call you his.

#⋆.˚ asks ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank prompt #rudy pankow #rudy pankow smut #obx smut

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emeraldspiral · 3 days

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So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is it's take on relationship inequality.

Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.

St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.

And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.

But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.

So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.

#jane eyre

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sugar-coat-it · 18 hours

Text

Body piercer! Matty part three

Part 1, Part 2

I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps!

Fem! Reader

Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)

WC: ~6.3k

—-------------------------------------

PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom

—-------------------------------------

Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.

Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.

You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life.

So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it.

When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?

Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least.

“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes.

“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”

“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”

“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”

Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise.

“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”

“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.

“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.”

You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you.

“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”

The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get.

—---------------------------------------------

Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.

Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue.

“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze.

You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.

Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.

“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone.

You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.

“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick.

“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”

Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.

Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.

As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes.

The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.

“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push.

Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style.

“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.

Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit.

The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off.

“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.

“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie.

“I-”

His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.

You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes.

Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.

The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs.

“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched.

His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend.

Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.

Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy.

“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly.

“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.

Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins.

“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe.

You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.

His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take.

The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.

“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers.

“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.

Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.

“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.

“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”

You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth.

Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”

He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.

“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”

At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling. In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips.

“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”

It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.

It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.

“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”

“Shit, me too angel, so close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally.

It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort.

“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities.

Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath.

“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are.

He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground.

“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.

“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek.

You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts.

“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.

“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position.

You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.

Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so while looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver.

“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first.

After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world.

—-----------------------------------------

SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee

The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”

I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually.

This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!

Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3

#body piercer!matty #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic

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ginnysgraffiti · 3 days

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i've received this ff request but since tumblr deleted it i wasn't able to answer directly to the person who sent it :,)

anyway, here's the ff!

needy y/n, overstimulation, hand-relief, self-stimulation, paul's dirty vision, 18+

&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn.

technically speaking you and paul were engaged.

it was he who declared himself, on the highest dune that could be glimpsed from your fremen camp.

that day the air was pleasant and the sand hardly rose.

you were immersed in a light conversation, which ended with paul meticulously explaining to you how his life was on caladan, his home planet.

life there sounded perfect the way the words slipped out of his perfect lips lightly coated with a few grains of melange spice.

you asked aloud what the sea was like, or rather, what it was.

on arrakis water was way more precious than spice, to stilgar and your people, and you couldn't imagine having an expanse of water (even salty) before your eyes.

paul noticed your incredulous expression and the way you raised your eyebrows and soft giggle left his lips.

looking at you again, he promised that he would take you to bathe in the sea, when political and war affairs would be over and he would finally bring the 'green paradise' written in the prophecy.

however, it wasn't the most romantic and exciting proposal that tickled his mind that day, even if it moved you anyway, because paul...well, he proposed more intimate things than a swim in the sea that evening.

that night you lost your virginity, and even though you were sure it was the same for him too, you didn't ask.

from the memory of that evening, bathed in your liquids and covered in sweet spice, paul's body never left your mind.

never.

in fact it was real torture when stilgar kept him for training or jessica took him out of your sight to talk about family or personal things.

one way or another, you and paul never had another chance to get back as close as the first evening, and it burned your gastric juices.

his mind was like war-set, and you didn't know if he could have time to satisfy your needs.

that evening you could still hear paul handling with his cryss, outside, probably with his skin shiny with sweat and his curls stuck to his forehead.

you coul hear his fighting movements, his labored breathing, and your mind could even see his hands shaking with adrenaline and his veins pumping.

that dirty thought got you soaked without even noticing.

now it was your breathing that stopped, and the only thing you wanted was for paul to enter the tent and touch you as only he did, and as only he had stopped (due to commitments) from doing...

the knot in the intestine wouldn't go away and the temperature seemed like a thermometer about to explode...

maybe you had a fever, maybe it was the effect it had on you.

he had on you.

you tried to make time fly by as much as possible, waiting for paul to get back to the tent, even though he would be too tired for any unhealthy plan you might have running through your gut.

your hands started to shake and a wave of tingles sucked you in

you felt the heat of your skin, even more accentuated by the fact that paul could return at any moment; a fire so hot that it only excited you terribly.

an unhealthy idea, in fact, took place in your mind and your hands began to move and travel across your body.

your breathing started to get heavy at the idea that paul could touch you like that. because you knew he could.

yes.

you dragged your own hands over your skin, starting with your neck and then in circular motions over your breasts before lingering on your belly.

the rhythm of your fingers becomes irregular and with the other hand you started making circular movements on the clitoris, now nothing but moans and incoherent words come out of your mouth.

you wanted paul.

your body felt the keen need to be touched by him, only by him.

you tried to push your fingers a little further in but you felt too close that you couldn't hide the desire to come thinking about how he would touch you.

you tried to regain some sanity when two strong hands pinned you even tighter against the carpet of the tent.

"were you practicing without me?"

his voice was incredibly hoarse and forced, perhaps due to training.

you couldn't tell if there was a smile or a threatening expression on his lips, by now your mouth was open, your head tilted back slightly and your fingers still down there.

you gave him a quick glance.

you were shocked, terrified and mesmerized.

those warm words wrapped in the smell of sweat, spice and vanilla from him made you tremble from head to toe...

a small laugh hit your ears, making you jump, and paul's hands grazed your arms, your hips, your chest, your breasts.

"really? touching yourself in the tent? without me? man, you must be so soaked..."

now his gaze was locked on your fingers still there.

fuck.

he moved the blanket and gently took them, putting them in his mouth and tasting your juices.

you moaned at his gesture, trying to look away but you were already too sensitive that you threw your head back again.

paul's lips passed over the tense skin of your neck, traveling along the jugular that was pumping like a madman, before stopping on your ear and blowing on it.

"why don't we get this done, hm? it would be a waste...and i need you, y/n" he hinted at an amused grin.

you could hear he was deadly needy.

you loved it.

"god y/n...i beg you, touch yourself again"

this was really unexpected from Paul.

your eyes widened, but his intentions were real.

you then adjusted your position and you could feel the grin return to his face as your movements resumed slow, in and out, but now they were picking up the pace faster as at the sight of your boyfriend the excitement only accelerated in you.

you moaned his name, helpless to do anything else.

you pushed two fingers inside again, you couldn't take it anymore...

you needed him.

now.

“hell the sounds you make…are you close, y/n?”

you nodded slightly and he grinned proudly.

he got even closer and your heartbeat accelerated dramatically.

you had a machine gun instead of a heart.

hopelessly you instinctively clung to his shoulders, to his muscular neck, as his hands ran up your thighs.

his deep eyes stared at you and instead of being intimidated you felt hypnotized.

two fingers slipped inside your mouth, inviting it to open.

and you, victim of his beauty, did it.

he brushed his lips against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin, marking it with possession.

your knees shook and a burning heat exploded between your thighs that you had to grip onto his shoulders again.

paul had already taken off your clothes.

you suddenly found yourself completely naked.

he slipped a thigh between your legs and pressed his knee against your most sensitive spot.

damn...

you closed your eyes and pressed your lips together to suppress a moan, maybe an orgasm.

you felt giddy, excited and hungry.

so much so that, against all shame, you began to follow those movements.

you wiggled your hips, grinding against her muscular leg.

he increased the intensity to let you feel him even more.

"you like it like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire for him.

his kisses became more merciless and wild and his tongue melts against mine.

he then let one hand slide down.

he smiled at you, then kissed you softly.

paul continued to act skillfully but very slowly and, moving to the clit, he rubbed it with his index finger, then squeezed it tightly with his thumb.

that damn expert touch made you delirious.

he immediately withdrew his finger, however, giving you a jolt of indescribable pleasure and you let out a cry.

he stuck his finger in again, briefly.

he caressed your entire calf and then moved up your leg and ended up on your inner thigh.

"i want to kiss you here."

you froze at his words, but nodded.

something about the roughness he was practicing and the sweet permission that escaped his lips made you love him even more.

he leaned in and gently placed his lips on it.

with his wet tongue he licked on your clit, while his thin and veiny hands held your waist tightly.

"i feel you so tight..." he murmured.

he licked some more and his blue but not totally fremen eyes darkened feeling your sensitive spot twitch.

"were you like this even when you touched yourself for me?"

you tensed.

"relax baby...enjoy the moment, hm?"

he pushed his finger deeper but his words made you trust him and you tilted your head back, making your pupils roll as your hands ran through his hair to release the accumulated tension.

you pulled them even tighter, trying to tell him something you couldn't with words.

"say it" as if he almost read your mind, he ordered in the fremen language, and you almost actually came...

he turned you on like hell when he spoke in the same language as you...

you looked at him biting your lips and your gaze fell on his mouth swollen and purple from his kisses.

his breaths are panting and fast, like yours.

then when he placed a small and delicate kiss on your belly you finally melted.

"do it, paul"

as soon as you felt his hot tongue inside you, his whole tent began to turn, move, distort above my eyes.

you pushed your hips against his mouth.

he didn't stop, in fact, he continued to lick me.

you were shaking and panting against the fabric of the carpet.

when you finally felt you were close again the mix of sensations was too powerful...

you were distraught, sweaty and hot.

"do you really think we're done? i still have to make up for all the last nights, baby."

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x y/n #timothée chamalet #timothée x reader #dune part 2 #dune movie #paul atreides x you #paul atreides smut #paul atreides #paul x reader #paul atreides x reader #&. PAUL ATREIDES #&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn

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the-lil-spud · 13 hours

Text

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo part FOUR!

lets see what else is in store for y/n ... you didn't think Velvette was just going to let her get away now did you?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Seems Velvette had tagged your photo on her story with the hashtag #newmodel? Flicking your gaze back up to an amused Angel.

“Well toots … you might as well collect all three than just two. Here’s to you babe - you are so fucked”. He raised his glass. Raising your own you blink in shock.

Fucked was right.

It had been a few days since your exciting little adventure to the Vee Tower, coupled with the fact Velvette had not only shared your post on Sinstagram but followed you was helping you gain thousands and thousands of new followers and likes. But like your tequila, you took this with more than a pinch of salt. The Vee’s didn’t do anything for free. There was always a catch. You were waiting for this one to hook you sooner or later.

Unfortunately for you, it was sooner rather than later. You had finished your job for the night ready to head home, plus there was a bottle of whiskey and a hot bath with your name on it. Arm raised to wave a taxi you were distracted by your phone starting to buzz in your other hand. Unknown Number. Huh, weird. Deciding to answer it you lower your arm. What harm could it do?

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Y/n?” Frowning at the unfamiliar voice, hmm you were rather selective about who got your number. So … who was this?

“Speaking…?”

“Ah Miss Y/n I am Velvette’s assistant, and she is insisting that you come in to meet her to discuss an opportunity that you really do not want to miss out on” huh. Okay. Was not expecting that.

“Uh huhh … and when is she wanting to meet?” Looking up at the darkening sky you had a horrible feeling you weren’t going to be going home anytime soon.

“Well, what are you doing now?” Ohhh nooo! Come on!

“I have just finished work and was actu-”

“Ah perfect so you are free. Come to the Vee tower now and we will sort everything. See you soon” your mouth opened and closed as they hung up on the phone. Right eye twitching you took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly. The bloody nerve! Grinding your teeth you raise your arm up again and wave at a taxi. Trying to calm your anger you shove yourself in the first one that appears, telling them to take you to the Vee Tower. Stewing in the backseat you think it must be nice to be an Overlord – just ordering small insignificant demons around. Shaking off the attitude you realise you need to tidy yourself up.

Looking down at your outfit, a sigh escapes you. Not exactly the outfit you’d want to meet the fashionista Overlord in – a leather bustier, leather pants and your customary neon pink accessories and heels matching of course with your favourite faux fur coat – but it was going to have to do. You didn’t exactly have time to prepare. Scurrying around in your purse to find your compact mirror, you quickly tidy up your eyeliner – snarling at the cabbie when he purposefully swerved nearly wrecking your makeup – and pop a new layer of dark pink lipstick on with a topping of gloss. A quick fluff to your blonde/pink hair and that was the best it was gonna get with such little time to prepare. Spying your perfume, you give a little spritz to your neck, wrists, and boobs. Noting that you’d need to get some more on your next outing as you were nearly out.

Thankfully you had just enough time to get all that done before the taxi pulled up at the tower, throwing the money at the demon you step out on the street. If possible the tower seemed even taller than before. Intimidating. Shaking your head you steel yourself for this meeting, how the last one went down with the other two is not what you want this time round. No unnecessary touching. No being cornered. And no flirting. Okay maybe a little bit of flirting, you were a demon after all. Wait – no! No! Bad thoughts!

Stepping in to the reception you check the board to see what floor Velvette was on, marching to the elevators you ignore the same receptionist who seemed surprised to see you again. Yeah, Bitch I’m back! In the elevator you press Velvette’s floor and breath deeply. It would all be okay. Perhaps they were just going to tell you how much they liked your post? Or they were wanting a thank you in person for all the followers? Or how surprised at how naïve and stupid you sounded. Shaking your head you groan softly. Of course it wasn’t doing to be okay, dealing with the Vee’s was never okay. Or safe.

At the soft ding you pulled your attention away from your depressing thoughts and instead to the scene in front of you. Velvette yelling at a load of models, other demons running around grabbing body parts off the floor and clothes being burned. Well. That was different. A twitch of your lips hid a smile – so the Vee’s weren’t as organised and poised as they’d like you to believe. Good to know.

Taking a step into what felt like the Thunderdome your movement must have caught Velvette’s attention, she suddenly was advancing on you and quite fast for someone so short. You thought you were small, but she only came up to your shoulder. Of course her attitude, energy and that amazing hairdo made up at least a foot, if not more. And living with the other two Vee’s she needed as much attitude and sass to keep up.

“Ah so you are Y/n, totally nice to meet you face to face. Saw your post girl and I am in love with them – that last photo dump was so gorgeous and hitting all the trends so good on you.” Linking her arm with yours like you two were old buddies she pulled you further into the room, her voice so quick you had to focus so intently to understand what she was saying.

“So … any who, guess you are wondering why I brought you here?” She gently shoved you down on the chaise lounge, a small ‘offt’ escapes your lips when you hit the seat. Steadying yourself you turn your body to face the Overlord who decided to take a seat right next to you. Your knees almost touching. Okay then.

“Yes, I was curious why…” a glass of champagne appeared in front of your nose – accepting it gingerly you carefully held it in your lap thanking the demon who passed her boss a glass.

“Look, your style is cute but I think with my influence your style can be out of this world – I am in the market for a new model” - a glance to the pile of body parts in the corner of the room made you gulp - “and with your figure and my style we could totally rock this Hell, making us a tonne of money and you a star so whatcha think – whatcha say I can sort the contract out asap no problem, no fuss”. Blinking in a bit of shock at the speed of what she spoke and what she was speaking about you had to hold your hand up to stop her for a second. Information overload.

“Uh – wow that’s real generous of you Miss Velvette-“

“Please call be Velvette, or Vel! None of this Miss business,” Her smirk was widening, her black lipstick was shining under the florescent lights above us.

“Well, Velvette, I am really touched that you think I could model for you as your fashion range is just fantastic and I love it – but if I am to sign that contract what am I giving you?” You pretend to take a sip from your glass. No liquid entered your lips. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d heard of someone being drugged and signing their soul away – you wouldn’t be one of those.

“Oh, nothing big really. Just something tiny. Teeny really. You wouldn’t even miss it.” She wafted one of her hands around as the other was typing away on her phone.

“Uh huh and what would that teeny tiny thing that I wouldn’t miss be?” You hedged her for the answer what you knew was coming.

“Just your soul babes – nothing big.” Yeah, to her maybe. To you it was a massive thing. And you’ll be honest, you didn’t have masses in this Hell but you did have your soul which was more than some have.

“Then the answer is going to be no, Velvette” you placed your glass down on the table. Her fingers stopped twitching across her screen, her red eyes focused solely on you. Now normally you were one to bow your head and not make eye contact, but you’d had enough of the bullying attitude of these Vee’s now – not one but two now have tried to contract you into losing your soul and you weren’t having it! Matching her glare with one of your own.

“No?” Keeping the eye contact you nodded.

“Not to say I am not grateful that you thought of me, or the fact you even took the time to speak to me. But my soul is non-negotiable. Plus, I have a job already. One which I love and want to continue. So, thank you. But my answer is and will always be - No.” You might have held your eye contact, but your hands were starting to tremble a little. Clenching them together in fists you keep your gaze on hers. A small sneer was pulling on her lips, and you were getting ready to be dismembered like the model before you. But it never came. Instead, she laughed. Laughed?!

Not like an evil MWAHAHA laugh. But a genuine laugh. Confused you wrung your hands together as she lightly slapped your knee and wiped a tear from her eye.

“You got guts girl; I’ll give you that.” A strained smile tugged at your lips, dead heart thumping in your chest. “Fine then. No soul contract – which is a shame we could have had so much fun” her expression darkened with mischief sparkling in her eyes pulling a little heat to your cheeks. “But instead let’s make a little deal? No souls just two businesswomen making a deal, whatcha say?”

Raising your eyebrows in interest you place your elbows on your knees leaning forwards: “what do you suggest?”

“Your socials are starting to take off, people are noticing you babes, and I am here for it! You are a rising star, don’t think I haven’t been paying attention and seeing that people are using your hashtags and your name when they’ve seen you at one of the clubs singing performing”, surprised she had even looked you could feel your blush deepen. “So, here’s the deal – you wear some of my designs, tag them in your socials, etc and you come and do a catwalk for me and sing?”

“You want me to promote your clothes and sing at one of your Cat Walks?” you clarify because this evening was not going the way you had planned or thought it would go.

“That’s it gorgeous – whatcha think?” You think this was probably the longest Velvette had been off her phone.

“And that’s it? No loopholes, no contracts, no soul-binding – just for me to wear your clothes, promote them on my social media and sing at one of your cat walks – that’s it?” You narrow your gaze at the Overlord, there’s got to be some sort of catch here. The way she was gazing at you like a cat that had caught the canary you were sure you were screwed in some way.

“That’s it honey. No catch, no loopholes, just good business”. Humming under your breath, you racked your brains to see if there was anything that could go wrong.

“Okay, how long do I have to promote your clothes for and when is the Catwalk show?” you ask, tapping on your own phone bringing up your notes and typing away.

“Shall we give it six months and see what happens from there? The next Catwalk is in a one month’s time” her smile only got bigger. You couldn’t think where or what could be a loophole, it seemed like too good of a deal. And your mama raised you to believe if a deal was too good to be true then it usually is. But then again. When did you ever listen to her?

“So far so good, but what do you get out of it?” Her smirk grew, well that can’t be good. She reached over and squeezed your leg softly, your eyes flitted from her hand to her smug expression.

“I get exactly what I want gorgeous, but honestly helping rising stars get their fame is mainly it” her charming smile didn’t win you over. She was a lying. But let her keep her lies for now. You knew how to play the game and so far, you hadn’t been burnt. What’s a little risk.

“Okay Velvette, you have a deal”. Raising your hand, she slapped hers into yours and gave it a strong shake – red and black smoke erupted from her making you jump back a little but was stopped from the grip she had. Her grin was terrifying. Her hair was waving around her head like it was full of static. But as soon as the smoke and lights appeared, they disappeared as if you had imagined it. Pulling your hand away, the tingle of electricity ran through your fingers, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. Not at all.

“Well then gorgeous now that’s all done – you can pop back tomorrow and we will get all your measurements and go through colour schemes, styles, etc so keep you day wide open yeah!” Finishing off her glass of champagne we leaned back against the chaise lounge – never once had she let her gaze off you.

Nodding in agreement you thank her while rising from your seat, it was time for you to go and drown yourself in that bottle of whiskey. “You can stay if you’d like?” A flush covered your cheeks at her racking her gaze up your body.

“Thank you, but I better get home. Big day tomorrow I want to be rested” you give her your best winning smile, slipping your purse under your arm. Rolling her red eyes at you she huffed a little, “fineee be boring babes”. Happily!

Before you could even think of taking a step towards the elevator the doors slid open. An unimpressed Vox stood in the middle tapping away on his own phone, not tearing his gaze away from it he steps into the room.

“So what unfortunate soul have you managed to convince to work with you now Vel?” His charismatic voice lacked his usual flare and instead sounded bored. Not something you usually would hear from the TV Demon.

Clearing your throat, you were frozen in place when his eyes connected with yours. Uh oh.

“That unfortunate soul would be me” you smile nervously at him, watching as his screen glitched slightly. That was weird. His bored expression disappeared with the glitch and in its place was his usual charming smile.

“Ah Miss Y/n what a pleasure to see you! What was that you just said?” Velvette appeared at your side, wrapping an arm through yours you watched his screen glitch a little again.

“She’s mine now Voxxie” she smirked at the glitching demon.

“She’s WHAT?!”

Taglist: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx

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alastor-simp · 2 days

Text

Caught In Her Web - Angel Dust x Zestial Daughter Reader

❥Summary- Zestial is holding a special event for all of the spider demons in Hell, and surprisingly Angel Dust was invited. It was hard for him to vibe with this kinda crowd, but that all change when he met Zestial's daughter

❥Tags: Angel Dust x Reader, Zestial , Zestial Daughter, Female Spider Demon, Hell Event, First Meeting, Developing Relationships, Fluff.

❥Notes: This is a request from my friend ValerieWinks777 on Wattpad. Decided to post it here as well for all of you to enjoy.

"Y/N? Hast thou finished getting dressed?" Zestial, your father, knocked on your bedroom door, curious if you were in your proper attire for this evening. "Almost Father. I'll be right out." You called out, as you slowly zipped up your dress from behind. Your name was Y/N, and you were the daughter of the powerful overlord, Zestial. Your birth happened between the undying love between Zestial and your deceased mother, who sadly passed away during your birth. Zestial took it upon himself to raise you properly with care and love. Similar to him, you possessed spider like features similar to him as well. While being the daughter of Zestial, your personality leaned more towards a rebellious nature, but you still carried yourself with grace and kindness, something that you had obtained from your mother.

Today was the day of the Spider Festival, it was a common event that Zestial held for the sophisticated spider demons of the Pride Ring, and this time you would be able to attend as you were now old enough to watch over yourself. Taking a look in the mirror again, you smiled as you watched your beautiful dress swaying in the reflection.

“Perfect.” You said to yourself, as you made your way to the door, opening it to see your father standing, wearing a heartwarming smile. “How beautiful thou look. The dress suits thou perfectly.” Zestial placed a hand on your cheek, giving it a little pinch, earning a laugh from you. “Thank you, father.” Zestial removed his hand, and began to walk to the castles ballroom, with you following next to him. “This shall be thy first time attending the festival. Try to hast fun, yet also forbear mischief. Many of the guests are close friends of mine, so I wouldn’t crave 'em to regard mine daughter is a silly little wench.” You felt your stomach tightened at that. Last thing you wanted was your father to see you as a disappointment. You nodded your head at that, face wearing a somber look. Zestial caught on to your reaction, and stopped walking, leaning closer to wrap you in a hug. “Forgive me. 'I didn’t intent to causes thee upset. All I do lack is for thou to hast a fun night and enjoy the festivities. Possibly meet someone whom suits thy interests.” Hugging your father back, you told it was alright, while also laughing at the last thing he said. Zestial chuckled before removing himself, as the both of you headed to your destination.

The ballroom was decorated, from head to toe in webs, giving it an eerie feeling. The chandelier hanging above was lit with colorful flames, basking the ballroom with beautiful colors. The tables were covered in delicious hors d'oeuvres and cakes for the guests to enjoy, along with a large glass bowl containing refreshing punch. The guests were all a mix of different spider species demons, some as black widows and others as wolf spiders. Both you and Zestial had made your way down the stairs, causing everyone to stop and stare, as well as bowing to the both of you. Zestial smiled with pride and addressed everyone in the ball room. “Greetings ev'ryone. Thanketh thee f'r attending tonight’s festival. I desire thee all enjoyeth tonight and has't a pleasant exp'rience as at each moment” Zestial gave a small bow, while you gave everyone a polite curtesy, earning a small applause from the guests.

Zestial had to go and speak to his old friends, so he motioned you to go on and enjoy yourself, as he departed you. Feelings of anxiety began to rise in you, as you felt like a bug underneath a magnifying glass, being watched by everyone. You slowly made your way to the ballroom, observing everyone and making idle chat with some of the guests. Your emotions had finally calmed down, but you still felt a sense of unease. Probably due to it being the first time you attended the festival. As you wondered aimlessly, your eyes darted towards a tall peculiar spider. He certainly wasn’t someone you recognized. Out of all of the spiders you had seen, he was the only one that was coated in all white fur. He was wearing a black and pink tuxedo and tall heal-like boots. His hair was puffed up and slightly curled, and his heterochromatic eyes were very mesmerizing. You didn’t know what had possessed you to want to talk to him, but you body slowly made your way over to him.

Angel Dust POV

“Alright alright. This ain’t so bad. Just be yourself and not make a scene” Angel dust whispered to himself, as he observed the higher rank demons around him, as they conversed with each other and danced to the music playing in the back. Angel Dust still couldn’t believe he was even attending a fancy shamancy thing like this. He only got roped into going by Charlie, who heard about the event and advised Angel to go and make some friends, while also promoting the hotel a bit. Angel had expected the event to just be some typical orgy party, but not this. He knew how famous he was in Pride, given his porn status, but he knew he stood nowhere near the same level as the others here. He could feel the hard stares being directed at him, knowing he didn’t belong to this. “This is stupid. Should have never agreed to come to this little shindig.” Mumbling to himself, Angel motioned over to the punch bowl, pouring himself a drink, thinking that it may help calm him down. A sudden tap on his shoulder behind him, made him turn around. His eyes widen at the sight of you behind him. He had never seen the likes of you before, but my lord, weren’t you quite the looker. Your warm smile and eyes were looking at him, which confused him greatly.

“Hello. Are you alright, by chance? You seem a tad bit nervous.” You calmly spoke to him, while he continued to stare at you in awe. Shaking his head, he moved one of his hands to fluff his hair a bit. “ Y-eah yeah. I’m all good.” Nervously answering your question, he shot a small smile back at you. The two of you continued to stare at each other, before Angel sighed in front of you. “Sorry. I ain’t use to this kinda scene. More of a club life kinda demon.” His response earned a laugh from you. “Don’t worry. I’m not use to this kinda thing either. It’s my first time attending this festival. I’m guessing it’s the same for you?” Angel nodded his head, as he sip his beverage, but he quickly stopped, confused at your answer. “Whatcha mean it’s your first time? You look like you have been to a million of these fancy events. Especially when your dressed like that.” Angel pointed up and down at your dress, making you blush. “Haha. I wasn’t old enough to attend before, but now that I’m older, I can attend by myself. So we are in the same boat, you and I.” Kindly smiling back, you moved closer to him and stood next to his side, leaning back a bit against the table holding the punch bowl. Angel just continued to watch you, while you heard him mumble and “I guess.”

Standing next to each other in silence, the both of you watched the others around you, until you heard the man next to you speak up. “The name is Angel Dust. What’s your name, toots..I mean miss.” He quickly corrects himself, causing you to giggle. “Haha. First time I have been called that. My name is Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angel.” You turned towards him, and gave a small curtsy, while he followed back with an awkward bow and then a handshake. You noticed he still looked a bit uncomfortable being surrounded by all these upper class demons, so you grabbed one of his hands. "Hey, we can go outside, if you want." Angel dust's eyes shot for a bit before he gave you a small smirk, saying "Lead the way." You held his hand as the both of you made your way through the crowd of demons, before you were stopped by a voice behind you. "Where are thou off to, mine sweet?" Turning around your father was standing behind you, eyes glowing in confusion. "Oh father! I was just going out to the outside garden with my new friend. Is that alright?"

Angel Dust nearly fainted from shock. This tall scary-a** demon was your dad, and an overlord as well?! His hands quickly started to fidget, thinking your dad was gonna kill him for simply conversing with you. Zestial eyes scanned Angel up and down, without any emotion on his face. Whispers could be heard from behind you, from the other demons, mostly saying "What is a commoner demon doing here?" "Wait, isn't that demon part of Valentino's group?" Your eyes widen at what you heard. How rude! Why did it matter what field of work he was it? He seemed like a friendly demon, and they shouldn't be so quick to judge a book by its cover. "Y/N. May i speaketh to thee in private?" Your dad had placed a hand on your shoulder, moving you away from Angel, who watched you with a sad expression. Both you and your dad had moved to speak against one of the pillars. "Dad, I know your going to tell me not to speak to him, but he's not a bad guy I swe-" Zestial had cut you off by placing a hand up, telling you to stop talking. You expected he was mad at you, but his face didn't show it. "It is alright y/n. I told thou to converse with other demons, didst i not? That young man possesses a kind soul, yet he hath been chained down and ridiculed by others. Do not let him slip past thou, mine sweet. Now run along!"

Your dad motioned his hand for you to go. Smiling, you gave him a quick hug and went to go back to Angel Dust. He wasn't in the spot you had last saw him, and began to look for him, heading to the courtyard. Angel Dust walked along the path that lead to the castle gardens. The area was covered in exotic plants, along with small statues of mini gargoyles. Hugging his arms around himself, Angel took at seat on the grass, heaving a sigh. He knew what had happened when your dad pulled you away. He could hear the negative things he was probably calling him right now, telling you not to associate with a whore like him. The sounds of feet stepping on the grass alerted him, and he turned seeing you coming towards him, with a smile. "Oh thank goodness. I thought you left." He watched your figured move closer to him, before taking a seat on the grass as well, causing your dress to ruffle up. "How are ya out here right now? Didn't your dad just speak to ya about me?" Angel exclaimed. You laughed at his reaction, saying it was alright and that your dad didn't mind at all.

The both of you just sat in silence, while you gazed around the garden and up at the blood red sky. "I don't care, you know." Angel looked at you in confusion, wondering what you meant. "About you being a sex worker or whatever. I don't care what rank you are or what you do for work. I would just like to get to know you." The lovely smile you aimed at him was making his heart skip a beat. Angel was at a loss for words at what you said. He was used to the ugly looks and stares people gave him when they knew what line of work he did, but you were the first that didn't care about any of that. Angel shook his head, chuckling as he smirked at you, flashing his gold tooth. "Ya wanna know me toots? Haha, buy me dinner first at least." You quickly laughed at his response, as you smiled back at him.

The two of you continued to chat amongst yourself in the castle gardens, discussing your hobbies and interests like music, fashion choices and what not. The both of you were just lost in each other, just enjoying each others presence and laughing at each others jokes. "HAHAHA no way your boss has that bad sight." You cackled, as Angel continue to tell his story. "AHAHA I'm serious toots. He can barely see whats on his phone half the time. It probably takes him hours to even send a text to anyone." He laughed out, as you followed along with him. Sadly, the peaceful evening the both of you had was coming to an end. Still wanting to spend more time with him, you walked with him back to the front of the castle, where a limo was waiting for him. "I really enjoyed tonight Angel. I would love to spend more time with you again." The fluff on his face, became dyed a soft pink, as he rubbed his neck with one of his hands. "Tonight wasn't all bad. I-I can give you my cell, if you wanna chat again." You widen your eyes at that, happy that he wanted to meet again. "Well, I don't have a cell phone at the moment. My dad is a little old fashioned, but I'm sure he can give me one if I ask him." Angel smiled back at you, as he pulled out a small pen from somewhere in his pocket, as he wrote his number on your palm. He soon hopped into the limo, and shut the door. The window rolled down, and he flashed a smile back at you, along with a wink. "See ya around, toots." You smiled back at him, as you nodded your head, waving him goodbye, as the limo drove off.

Back at the Hotel

Angel dust heaved out a tired sigh as he walked through the hotel doors. Charlie happened to be awake, wanting to stay up to make sure Angel made it home okay. "OH ANGEL!!! YOUR BACK!! HOW WAS IT?! DID YOU HAVE FUN? DID YOU MAKE ANY NEW FRIENDS?" Charlie enthusiastically chattered along. Angel was a bit too tired to answer all of Charlie's questions, so he just said it was okay and that he did meet a cool person at the party. Charlie was happy that Angel enjoyed himself and that he met someone there, but she knew he was exhausted, so she wished him a goodnight, while giving him a quick hug before running off back to her bedroom. Angel smiled at Charlie's cute actions, as he made his way upstairs to head to his bedroom.

Entering inside his room, he deeply sighed as he shrugged off his clothes and removed his shoes. Fat Nuggets was awake and ran up to him, oinking happily while trying to climb up on of his legs. "Aww Did-ja miss me?" Angel cooed, picking up Fat Nuggets and kissing him on his head. Angel walked over to his bed, and laid back on it, reminiscing about this evening. He couldn't stop thinking about you. Everything about you, your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your jokes was giving him butterflies. He wasn't use to this kinda feeling before, and it made him feel funny. You weren't what he expected when he first saw you. You were the daughter of one of the most powerful overlords in Pride, and yet instead of being a snotty bit**, you were thoughtful and compassionate. Even when you knew what he did, you still treated him normally, which made him melt. He felt trapped, caught actually, in your web. His body and soul was wrapped in your sticky threads and instead of struggling, he accepted it.

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roosterforme · 14 minutes

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him.

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice.

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail.

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you?

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please).

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities.

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

------------------------------

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him.

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response.

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa.

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa.

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

--------------------------

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning.

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden.

"No way," complained Nia.

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

-----------------------

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good.

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

------------------------

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

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harmonicakai · 2 days

Text

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader

Summary: Your insecurities get the best of you and you abandon your relationship with Beomgyu in the worst way possible.

Tropes: friends with benefits, angst, college AU, band AU

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), emotional unavailability, slut shaming, no happy ending :-(

A/N: This is SAD because I am currently sad and also I didn’t bother to edit it. Apologies in advance to the Beomgyu biased readers bc I know this is not what anybody asked for </3

“You disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What am I to you?” —Ghosting, TXT

You’re a horrible person.

Really, you should’ve broken things off with Beomgyu before they even began. It’s never a good idea to be friends with benefits with somebody you actually like.

You do your best to distract yourself from confessing your love to him by sleeping with other guys. What started bright and electric between the two of you has fizzled with each encounter, his touch now feeling dull and hollow on your skin.

So, when you wake up next to him after a movie night, your stomach drops when you see the marks he’s left on your neck. Everybody will know what you get up to, if they haven’t already been gossiping about it behind your back.

There’s a numbness to the way you slip out of his apartment without so much as a goodbye. If you had woken him up, he would’ve noticed the sad look on your face and canceled all of his plans to spend the day making you feel better.

You don’t deserve his friendship, let alone his love, although he's only confessed the latter when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear him. Or, sometimes Huening Kai will let it slip how much Beomgyu talks about you when they’re away.

The walk home is brutal. You’re even wearing the jacket he’s refused to let you give back to him, knowing that if you had left it behind, he’d surely know something was wrong.

When he notices you’re gone, he shoots you a text about Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. Beomgyu has never cared for linguistics, but he knows you’re a real nerd about this kind of stuff. You decide not to reply.

Things would be much easier if you could just disappear out of his life, but the two of you have become so intertwined that it’s impossible. All of your friends are his friends.

Before him, you were just some quiet girl who shrunk away in the back of the classroom. After getting paired up and reading the poetry you managed to dream up, Beomgyu knew he had to get to know you more.

For most guys, the way he acts with you would come off as desperate. But he’s so earnest in his admiration for you and your talent that there’s simply no way he could possibly be faking it.

The first time you had gotten together was an honest mistake. You had been dumped, again, and he was there for you. It seems like he always is every time another man decides you aren’t worth his time.

It’s not that you don't love him. You do, as much as you’re able to. But you know that if you actually took things to the next level and they didn’t work out, it would break you entirely.

Still, is ghosting him without any sort of reason or explanation any better?

With finals in full swing, you know you’ve got the perfect excuse to be distant for a while. It’s the summertime that you’re worried about. Beomgyu has made sure to include you in every plan of his that he thinks you’d like, sometimes even arranging entire days around you in between his band’s schedules.

Really, the easiest way out is to start dating someone else. It always makes Beomgyu shrink further away from you to know that you will consistently pick someone else over him, although he’s secretly satisfied when things inevitably go sour. He hates knowing that the only thing that drives you into his arms is being rejected by somebody else, but he wants you too much to care.

The two of you talk about everything except how you feel about him, and he knows that he isn’t entitled to any of your emotions. You’ve made it clear from the start that you’re never going to be able to reciprocate in the way that he’d like for you to.

You weren’t always like this. At the start of college, you came in with the idea that you’d fall in love and have your happily ever after. But years of being used for your body and consequently dumped without reason has ripped your heart off your sleeve.

The way Beomgyu worships the ground you walk on makes no sense. You hate yourself. Maybe he just wants something to fix, and once you finally open up to him, he’ll leave you just like everybody else.

The thought makes no sense knowing him, but it’s the driving force in never confessing how you actually feel. So, you offer up yourself physically in the hopes that it’s enough, but it always leaves you feeling empty inside afterward. No amount of kisses or compliments will probably ever change that.

Among his bandmates, you’re closest to Yeonjun. He’s the only one who knows that you love Beomgyu just as much, maybe even more, than he loves you.

It was revealed through a drunken confession at a frat party the weekend Beomgyu went home for his mom’s birthday, where you immediately got embarrassed and proceeded to go home with the first guy who gave you any sort of attention.

Meaningless sex is really the only way you can get off these days, but the act always leaves you feeling worse than feeling nothing at all with Beomgyu. But if you’re never going to be good enough, pure enough, to truly deserve him, then what’s the harm in another hook up?

You know that every time he finds out you've been with somebody else, you’re breaking his heart. It’s just that there’s so much love from him to go around that it never actually makes a difference in how he treats you. He has the biggest heart you’ve ever seen and you don’t even have the decency to not trample all over it.

You wonder if everybody else also agrees that you’re not good enough for him. They’re so nice whenever you’re around, but you’ve seen men turn into monsters behind your back. For your sake, you try not to think about anybody else's opinion besides Beomgyu’s, but even those thoughts weigh heavy on your shoulders.

After a few days of not returning his texts, he finally musters up the courage to call you. Before you can pick up, your phone sends him to voicemail, and you know that’ll be enough of a sign for him to leave you alone.

It isn’t until you run into him dropping off your poetry final in the writing department’s office that he truly sees what’s become of you.

You haven’t slept properly in days, and you barely eat. Your eyes are constantly puffy from crying all the time, and today is no different. Seeing you like this devastates him.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you from running away. His demand for an explanation on where you’ve been and why is stuck inside his throat, and instead, only sobs come out of his mouth.

Beomgyu never cries, and watching as he tries to hide the tears running down his face reminds you that he must be hurting just as much as you are. You want so badly to hold him and apologize, but all you do is stare.

Eventually, he manages to collect himself as much as he can, taking in the irreparable damage you’ve caused one last time.

“Here,” he says, digging in his backpack and handing you a stapled stack of papers. It’s his final project. “I’ll go print another. I want you to read these. Please, promise me you’ll read them.”

You accept the papers, your eyes skimming over the lines of poetry on the first page. It's about you. You flip through the rest of the stack. They're all about you.

It takes everything in you not to start crying too, although you’re so exhausted that you don’t think anything would even come out at this point.

“I promise,” you assure him, although neither of you know if you’re telling the truth.

—————-

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