#so tonights horniness has a theme | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

endlessthxxghts · 5 months

Text

Thankful

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈1.8k

Summary: You're trying to prep for Thanksgiving dinner when Joel asks if he can pull you away for a minute.

Warnings: Implied established relationship. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f recieving). Edging (briefly). Squirting. Desperate!Joel. Pleasure Dom!Joel. An extremely thankful, pussy drunk Joel...✨Mirrors✨! Cumming untouched (Joel's a bed humping mess, what can I say?). Pictures are for aesthetic purposes; no physical description of reader.

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! Here's a little Thanksgiving drabble with a domesticated, pre-outbreak Joel for y'all. I left it kinda open, so you can view him as a boyfriend or husband, entirely up to you, but y'all do live together! Anyhow, if you are celebrating Thanksgiving, please be sure to acknowledge the land that belonged to the Indigenous people first. I say this because we can enjoy Thanksgiving and the general themes it stands for while decolonizing the white-washed version. All my love! Hope you enjoy Joel being a thankful, horny menace.👹

MASTERLIST

“Happy Thanksgivin’, baby,” Joel says, sliding up behind you, his big arms around your waist caging you between him and the kitchen counter. He places a kiss on your neck.

You smile in his embrace, loving the warmth radiating from his body. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, handsome.”

“Do you have a minute to step away?” He asks, voice low.

“Depends, baby,” you say, knowing you might know where this is headed. “Gotta finish prepping the sweet potato, so I can throw it in the oven. I can step away then?”

“This is for dinner later tonight at your parents, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Why?” You turn your head up to peer at him. He already has a big fat smirk on his face.

“We have so much time, baby,” he kisses you once more. “I just need you for a minute.”

“Joel,” you say sternly, though you feel your knees already buckling.

His hands are at your waist, guiding you to the kitchen sink and guiding you to wash your hands. As soon as you’re done, he’s twisting you in his hold, so your body is flushed with his. Your neck angled back to look him in the eyes. Within seconds, his hands are on either side of your face, lips smashing into yours, tongue immediately darting out to tangle with yours. His hips push harder against you, and you can feel his hard length against your lower belly.

Too lost at his sudden horniness, you don’t realize his hands leave your face and make their way to your thighs. He pulls away from you momentarily, letting out a breathless up as he taps the outside of your thigh. You lift your legs up to wrap around his waist.

He’s walking you to your shared bedroom, lips still on yours. As he reaches the threshold of the room, he tells you to close your eyes.

“Why?”

“Darlin’, just do it,” he says, amusement in his tone at your hard-headedness. One of his favorite things about you.

A small fine leaves your lips, and soon he’s throwing you on your bed, your body doing a little bounce at the fluffiness of your mattress. You squeal at being airborne, loving how he always manhandles you so perfectly.

Your eyes are still closed even though you’re dying to open them, and you start to feel Joel unzip your jeans, kissing every inch of your now-exposed lower belly. Once your bottoms are completely off, he settles himself between your legs, putting your thighs up onto his broad shoulders, keeping you completely open to him.

“Open, baby,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs.

You peer through your lashes slowly, but then your nervousness fades. Nothing looks different. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Until you look at Joel’s hand wrapped around your thigh. His one finger is pointing up to the ceiling. You look up.

Oh.

You look up and see your reflection staring back down at you. A complete view of Joel’s body between your legs, his broad back on display with his cute ass you love so much. Your jaw is on the floor.

“You like?” you hear him ask, a bit nervous.

“When?” you ask, still a bit shocked (and crazily aroused) at your room’s new feature.

“You were so busy in the kitchen all day,” he responds, “‘N I remembered our conversation a month ago, and I’ve been wantin’ to do it since, but never had the chance.”

You look back down to his own eyes. “I bought everythin’ for it after the conversation, too,” he adds. “Thought I’d make myself useful today in the way I know best.”

You think back to that conversation.

“Baby,” you yell from the couch.

“Hm?” he grumbles from his place in the kitchen.

“How would you feel,” you pause for a second, easing your own nerves about your request. Sure, Joel is just as freaky as you are, but it’s a natural human reaction to be unsure about new things. “About putting mirrors in our room?”

He’s in the living room within seconds.

“Mirrors?”

“Yes.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Mirrors where?”

You look at him for a minute. “...above the bed.”

His eyes flash something dark.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” you ask, shocked at his quick agreement.

“Okay.” You swear you see the one side of his mouth flip up in a smirk as he walks back to the kitchen.

You reach your hand down to caress his cheekbone, wanting nothing more than to kiss him but waiting because you know what he’s about to do. “I fucking love it,” you tell him.

“Good,” he says. His eyes look back down to your glistening cunt. He’s about to taste you when you speak up again.

“Wait.”

He looks back up to you.

“Take your shirt off. Wanna see you,” you say with a smirk as you point back up to the mirror above you.

He sits back up on his haunches, a smirk identical to yours spread across his face. He unbuttons his flannel slowly as he maintains eye contact with you. What a tease, you think. Two could play that game.

As soon as his chest is in view, you let out a little exaggerated moan, “Oh, fuck, baby.”

Your hand that was resting besides you moves to your chest. Slowly, you drag your fingers down your sternum, down your belly. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

His eyes are watching your hand like a hawk. He speeds up his unbuttoning process, but only by a millisecond, trying to keep his act and not fall under your siren spell.

Your fingers reach the top of your mound, coursing through the patch of hair down there. You shift your hips for added effect. As he gets to his last two buttons, the two pads of your fingers make their way to your clit, circling soft and slow, pulling the softest but neediest of moans from you. “Fuck, baby,” you drag out, pained. You bring your fingers lower, dipping into your wetness. You pump in and out of yourself for a few moments, letting him hear how wet you are. “See what you do to me, baby?”

“Fuck,” he growls out, the brown of his eyes completely gone. His act is done for as he rips off his flannel, the last button flying somewhere with a soft clack landing. He’s back between your legs at an instant, his hand grabbing at your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, sucking at the slick on your fingers. His quickness mixed with his roughness sends you in a frenzy, a lewd gasp leaving your mouth at his actions.

He releases your hand and his one hand situates itself at the top of your ass, angling your hips more forward, putting your cunt directly in line with his mouth. His other arm situates itself over your belly.

He licks a wet stripe through your seam using the flat of his tongue, and you swear you saw Heaven flash through his eyes. “God, ya taste so fuckin’ good,” he says.

He places an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, pulling off of you with suction. Your hips try to chase him for more, but the hold he has on you has you going nowhere. “This right here is what I’m fuckin’ thankful for,” he whispers at your pussy before he completely dives like a man starved. Like it’s his Thanksgiving meal.

His actions are focused on your sobbing entrance right now, his tongue lapping up your juices and entering your fluttering hole every chance he gets. The deeper he fucks his tongue into you, the more his thick, hooked nose nudges at your clit, providing the perfect amount of pleasure that sends you screaming.

“Fuck, Joel-!” you yell out. “Please, don’t stop, just like that, baby, please!” Your back tries to arch as much as it can with his heavy arm weighing you down. He opens up his eyes, looking up to check on you. A smile forms as he licks at you: your head thrown back in pleasure, eyes tightly shut. He keeps his exact pace and pressure, pulling you to the very edge just like you so sweetly asked for. Then, he’s pulling off of you.

Your eyes shoot open, immediately searching for Joel’s. You’re thrashing against his hold. “Baby, no, please,” you whine in frustration. “I was so close, please.”

He points back up to the mirror. “Don’t let my efforts go to waste, baby,” he says with a condescending inflection. “You said you wanted to watch me. So, watch. Or I’ll stop.”

You whimper at his words, nodding your head frantically, babbling to appease him. “Yes, baby, yes, I promise. I’ll keep my eyes open. Promise. Please, baby, please,” you beg.

Your words leave your tongue as his returns to the place you need him most. He angles your hips just slightly higher, giving him the perfect position to put all of his wet muscle into your pussy as his nose perfectly hits your already sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hands fly to his curls at the contact, your eyes threatening to roll back in pleasure.

You use all your strength to bring your eyes up to the mirror, and the sight of his back muscles flexing and twitching with every movement he makes has the fire in your core burning brighter. The next thing you notice is what sends you over the edge. His hips are rutting into the mattress, easing his hardness as though he’s a dog in heat. The thought of his desperation for you — his primal crave for you — that ends you.

You’re nearly ripping his hair out of his scalp as your eyes clamp shut, a stream of moans and gasps for air fill the room as you soak his entire face with your slick. At your finish, he’s moaning into you, and you can feel his body begin to vibrate. You open your eyes as best as you can, and you can see his hips are still rocking, weak and shaky.

Fuck.

He came.

He looks up from your pussy, the bottom half of his face soaked with a devilish grin gracing his features. He looks more fucked out than you, and if you’re remembering your tiny glimpse of your reflection as you came, you also look utterly fucked.

He wipes the wetness of his face on your thigh only to lick it all back up, sucking a few marks to bloom later tonight.

He places one last kiss to your clit, causing you to yelp in overstimulation.

“Yeah,” he breathes, as if he’s reminiscing about the things he just did to you. “I’m fuckin’ thankful,” he says as he heads to the bathroom to grab a cloth to clean you up.

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

2K notes · View notes

asimpforyagami · 10 days

Text

🇸 🇵 🇦 🇳 🇰 !

BSD MEN REACTING TO YOU SPANKING THEM.

↷ A/N ─ as usual please leave likes and reblogs to show support :D i love spoiling you guys !! now please tell me to go study i need some motivation :(

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ spanking, mentions of smut

MATURE THEMES, 16+, MENTIONS OF AND IMPLIED SMUT

*spanks*

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

momentarily surprised but quickly recovers

smiles and turns to you

it's like you just gave him a treat :D you can almost see his tail wagging as if he's a dog (he hates dogs btw grrr)

he believes that you spanking his ass gives HIM permission to do the same to YOU :( how mean of him

so he catches you off guard by spanking your ass

and you two end up chasing each other down to take turns spanking each other. whoever loses does the dishes tonight

"You've been very good today; you even completed your punishment for provoking me," he says, engulfing you in a cuddle after you returned from doing the dishes.

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

chokes on air this time (yes chuuya chokes in every single scenario of mine but he's the one choking you at night so its ok !! :D)

he's surprised because wtf?? he's the one supposed to be doing that conventionally????

defo spanks you back but tries to be as soft as possible because he's a gentleman

i think this is already an hc but he's an ass guy so once you've spanked him don't think he's gonna leave u at all

i did say his spanks are gonna be as soft as he can make them be but i never said how many 🤪😇

"Count," he hisses. It's midnight, and you're at his mercy. After his long and hard day at work, he needs something to relieve his stress.

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

stops your hand mid-air because duh he already knew about what you were gonna do

twists and turns and ends up holding your ass and squeezing it

all the while you're like wtf is wrong with you

his eyes make it look like he's enjoying it sm :( such a kitty cat

im still mad they didn't give us a whole separate scene for his ass :< anyone who's read the manga, any pics you wanna share? 👁

"You need to buy me extra candy for putting up with your stupidity," he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek.

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

his reflexes immediately act and you see rashomon from the back of his coat

but then he realizes its you...

and he FLUSHES. YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN BLUSH

well now you have :D his poor virgin ass

not a virgin anymore once he started dating you u horny ass mf /lh

he has literally no idea how to reply to that

he just shrugs cluelessly

"I guess I should return the favour?" he tries to sound confident but ends up delivering the lightest, most gentle spank. He doesn't want to hurt you. He loves you.

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

DISGUSTED™

one, because he's another virgin (virgin slander less gaurr 💪🏻 even tho im one myself; its the self burn guys !!)

and two, for the last time STOP. MESSING. WITH. HIS. RELIGIOUS. SELF.

you're SATAN in his eyes, trying to distract him and make him sin (as if he isn't a murderer and a terrorist cough cough)

if we're being delusional enough he'll leave the room with a faint pink on his cheeks 🤡

definitely returns the favour at night 🤭🤭 (only if you're married tho!!)

"My sole undivided attention is all yours now," he hits your ass again. "Anything to say? Hm? Why not? You were all for giggling at my face today. What's wrong now?"

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

437 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 7 months

Text

you're my last shot

second blurb of my fall/halloween series ! this one honestly has nothing to do with halloween but imagine it happens in fall :) there will be a halloween-themed blurb for them coming on sunday!

word count: less than 1,000

content warnings: pregnancy, discussion pertaining to abortion (no action taken)

masterlist | talk to me

fall blurb masterlist

. . .

Y/N isn't quite sure when she and Harry started hating each other so much.

It's been months, probably. Maybe a year? She doesn't really remember; all she knows is that the second he melded into their friend group, she thought he was cocky and annoying, flirting with every person who so much even looked his way, and she didn't like that. She didn't like him.

The mutual hatred between them was fine up until now, but... now, it seems like it's a major inconvenience, because Y/N is standing in her bathroom staring down at four positive pregnancy tests and Harry — she shudders — is the only person she's slept with in the past three months.

It had been a moment of weakness. A huge one. Massive, really, fueled by a few too many drinks at the bar, a shared spliff outside, an alcohol-fueled decision of, "well, we live in the same neighborhood, may as well just take an Uber together" that ended in a heated makeout session, followed by one of the most passionate nights Y/N has ever had. (She'll never admit that to him, but she swallows it down for herself.)

There was something about that night. He was being less... awful than he typically was when their friends went out. He didn't eye fuck the entire bar, didn't buy any drinks for the cute girls flirting with him. He was tolerable and apparently that was enough for Y/N — well, drunk Y/N who gets a little too horny when she has rosé in her system, and when she eyed his large hands and tattoos in the Uber, and she felt him shift just a little bit closer to her in the backseat, and when he whispered "just for tonight, no one has to know" into her ear, she was a goner.

And now she's pregnant with his child.

What the fuck?

. . .

It turns out that that's Harry's exact response.

"You said you're on birth control—"

"I am."

"So what the fuck happened—"

"It must have failed, Harry, there's still a chance of conception even with the pill."

"Are you serious—"

"Do you think I would joke about this?"

He's pacing around the diameter of his living room, trying to digest the news. She understands. It took her about 48 hours to process that this was happening to her, and then an additional 24 when she realized she had to tell Harry. She hadn't told anyone else — not any of their friends or her mom, because she wasn't sure what she wanted to do and she didn't want her decision to be fueled by any outside opinions. As much as she despised him, she believed Harry was the only other person who had a say in this.

Finally, he sits down. Well, it's more a noisy thump as he crosses his legs on the carpet, burying his head in his hands. She sighs, feeling marginally bad for him, even if she was having the same response a few days ago.

"Listen, I'm fine to have an abortion. I know we're both pro-choice and we really don't have to do anything with this... thing. Just, like, Venmo me half the money for one and I'll get it done."

Harry looks up at her, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why would you get an abortion?"

"Why wouldn't I get an abortion?"

"Because I want to be a dad," he says with a shrug, as if it's a given that he'd want Y/N to mother his child, "You may be my only shot. We all know I have a shitty relationship history, who knows if I'll be able to have another kid."

"Harry, this is insane. We can't stand each other, this would never be a healthy situation."

"Why not?" he presses, and Y/N seriously can't believe he's fighting back on this, "Co-parenting is totally normal. We don't have to be married to have a kid together. I'm ready."

Her eyes widen. "I literally watched you funnel a bag of wine last week, and you're 29 years old."

"I only do that shit because I have no reason not to. If we're having a baby, I'm more than happy to stop partying and focus on becoming a dad."

"Do you— like, do you even know what being a parent requires?" Y/N asks, "You would be committed to dealing with me for at least 18 years. Money, emotional support, being there for everything. Soccer games, school shows, parent-teacher conferences, graduations, doctors appointments..."

"I want kids, Y/N. And if you're my only chance, I'm not gonna say no."

She thinks she might puke on the spot.

"You look like you're gonna pass out. Are you okay?" Harry questions, standing from his spot on the rug and stepping towards her. She puts her hands up, a silent and invisible boundary. He stops.

"Are you... set on having an abortion?" he asks quietly, "It's okay if you are, that's your choice."

She sighs. She hates to admit that she's not. That over the past four days, she's envisioned what it would be like to snuggle her sweet baby, to kiss them and hold them and be a mom to them. That, worst of all, her dating history is just as glum as Harry's and, whether she likes it or not, he may be her only shot at parenthood, too.

"I guess I'm not," Y/N breathes, setting her eyes low to the ground. "I know I only have so much time and... I do get scared that I'll miss my opportunity."

"Yeah," he nods in understanding, "Do you wanna... like, take some time to think then? Maybe reconvene in a couple of days?"

Reluctantly, she agrees. But she already knows that she doesn't need any more time to mull it over — she wants to have this baby with Harry.

#writing #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x oc

405 notes · View notes

bangtanintotheroom · 3 months

Text

Plug & Play (M)(Teaser)

• Pairing: Guitarist!Hongjoong x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Rock Band!AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 742

• Summary: Tonight is the night that you quit being a bystander and make a move towards the guitarist on stage with the devilish smile.

• Warnings/themes: a rock show! 🎸, swearing, drinking, pining, Y/N is a horny bean, Hongjoong and his dangerous smiles 🫠, Yeosang the wingman, flirting, making out, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, fingering, hitting it from the back, fingers in mouth, finger sucking, protected sex (be responsible!), clothed sex, multiple orgasms

• Notes: Welp, it’s happened; I fell for yet another leader 🙃 which culminated in me going feral over his recent guitar solo and needing to write something related to it. So here it is! I should have this uploaded by Thursday morning, the latest, since I’ll be out of town for a few days. We’re trucking along pretty quickly, so I have faith! 💕

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask!

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @firesighgirl @swga-ficrecs @hyunjinsjeans

“I’m gonna fuck him.”

Yeosang stared at you from behind the counter, wondering if he heard you right amidst the clinking glasses and rock music.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m gonna fuck him, Yeo.”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes, rotating ninety degrees to point at the object of your desire on stage.

“Him.”

There was little surprise on your end at the scoff you heard from behind.

“You’re still on that mission?”

Your head whipped around incredulously. “Yes! Why are you shocked by this?”

Yeosang’s expression reeked of indifference as he wiped some bottles down.

“Because I thought you would have given up by now.”

“I don’t give up easily, dude—” Your eyes watched as a certain someone tuned their guitar strings. “—especially when I really want something.”

And you really wanted the man you had in your sights.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Are you new here?”

Your head shook at Seonghwa’s question. “No, I don’t even work here. Just helping my friend out while he gets slammed with customers.”

The pretty guitarist smiled softly.

“That’s very nice of you.”

Your cheeks couldn’t help but warm a tiny bit, shooting him the same look. “Thank you. He has to listen to enough of my ranting at home, might as well ease his pain somehow.”

Yunho blinked curiously before asking, “You’re roommates?”

“Mhm.”

He made a sound of understanding, yet another voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Thought you looked familiar.”

You focused your sight on Hongjoong, recognition on his attractive face that had your heart beating a little faster.

“Me?”

“Yeah—” His mouth quirked. “—thought I saw you hanging around Yeosang the last few times we were here.”

Oof. You weren’t sure how to react to him basically saying that he recognized you from afar. It wasn’t a bad thing, at all, considering your end goal, but you were surprised he even remembered with the amount of people in this building.

All you could muster was a scratch of the back of your neck, trying not to fluster further under his gaze.

“Haha, that’s me, always bugging him.”

Hongjoong gave a soft laugh, eyes scrunching in humor. It only made you more bashful, trying your best not to rub the toe of your boot into the ground.

Noticing that Yunho was roped into a conversation with the others now, it just left you alone with the lead guitarist.

A window of opportunity!

But for some reason, you couldn’t muster the words to continue speaking with him. Even though he continued to acknowledge you with his gaze, your eyes averted to watch the stage behind the dining tables.

“Hey.”

Your ears perked up, looking up to see Hongjoong eyeing you with curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

A lifesaver.

You had to hold back the large grin you wanted to give, settling for a polite smile instead.

“Y/N.”

“So…”

You turned around, hearing the door shut and lock before Hongjoong approached you, lips curled akin to someone ready to indulge in the sweetest dessert of their life.

“Is this a much better spot?”

Your mouth twisted in humor, nodding as you replied with delight, “Much better.”

“Good.”

The both of you looked into each other’s eyes, bodies thrumming with energy that was ready to be unleashed at any moment. Although, no one made a move for a moment.

That is, until Hongjoong chose to take a step forward, leaving the tiniest of spaces between you two.

Having him so close directly in front of you had even more of an effect than before, his fresh scent invading your nostrils while your heart pumped faster. It got worse when a hand came up to brush some hair behind your ear, his touch making you bite your lip.

Hongjoong noticed your shift and chuckled, “Nervous?”

You shook your head.

“No, just…excited.”

His grin only widened at your admission, sliding his hand down gently cradle your jaw.

“Same. Didn’t think I’d ever get to be up close and personal with Yeosang’s pretty friend.”

Although you were melting inside at the compliment, your eyebrow raised in amazement.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So why didn’t you make a move first?”

You hoped to trip him up, but the guitarist didn’t seem fazed, straight teeth almost blinding you.

“I wanted to see how badly you wanted me.”

His low response brought a mixture of exasperation and lust to you, your eyes rolling as you huffed, “You rockstars and your egos.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

213 notes · View notes

writingdisposal · 2 months

Text

Depravity (Vox x Fem!Reader)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

wc: 2.5k

cw: vulgar speech, drugs, dubious consent, explicit themes, oral (receiving + giving)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Working for Valentino has never been pretty, but nothing is truly beautiful in Hell anyway. It was easy money at least. You only had to serve some perverted freaks drinks and stroke their ego, occasionally stroke their ego in the sheets as well. Sounds easy enough, however on days where Vox frequented the club, it was truly hellish work. He was always so rough, grabbing onto your waist like he owns you. Valentino owns you, but it seemed as a member of the Vees, Vox had just as much of a claim over you as Valentino does. Whatever, he wasn't in tonight. Apparently he had some meeting to attend.

"Baby, get us another drink!" Valentino requested over the blaring music, shaking with his empty glass. "Right away, Sir," you said, taking not only his glass, but also those of his whores who kept on touching him. Rolling your eyes you quickly weaved through the dance field, bumping into sinners frequently. As soon as you got through the horny bunch, your eyes land on the bar, to be precise on your colleague. He shot you an empathetic glance. "Tough costumers?" He asked, already preparing the round of drinks, you needed. "Not really, Valentino just doesn't get enough of your new concoction," you heaved, taking a temporary seat at the bar and slumping on the counter. He simply smiled, "I'll take that as a compliment." "You better!" You retorted, pointing a finger at him, "Thanks to you I'm making bank in tips tonight." Tapping your arm reassuringly, he told you playfully 'to go get those tips'. "I swear, I don't know what I would do without you in this shit hole...," you mumbled before getting off your comfortable seat.

As you left with the drinks in hand, you saw in the corner of your eye his boyish smile appear. Sometimes you wondered how he ended up down here. Nevermind that now, you have to get the drinks Valentino and then take care of other VIPs. Weaving through the crowd just as before, you get back to their table. His whores are now making out with one another, whilst he puffed his smoke, merely enjoying the view. Bending over, you put the drinks on the table, allowing for them to make an audible clicking sound. As you straightened up, you felt a hand slide from your ass to your waist, just shy from touching your tits. You tensed up.Valentino whistled, "Look who decided to show up!" None other than Vox stood there, tightening his grip on you. He smirked, yelling over the music, "Yeah, wouldn't dream of missing this!" Valentino and Vox laughed before diverting their attention elsewhere. Unfortunately for you, Vox diverted his attention to you.

He let his hands roam your body from your waist down to your hips as he whispered into your ear, "I need to let off some steam, sweetheart..." Tensing up further, you simply smiled. "Of course, Sir," you politely told him, leaning into his touch, "Would you like me to grab some bottles of bourbon first?" "Oh no," he waved you off, "I got you covered." Your eyes widened. He got you covered? That was new, so that can't be good. Vox found your nervousness amusing and even a little arousing. Excitement filled his chest as he led you to one of the back rooms where folks can relax in a more sexual fashion. When you entered the room, the music became barely audible, fading into a thudding noise as the vibrations hit the walls. The door clicked shut and Vox tossed his jacket to the arm armchair beside the bed.

Taking a deep breath you put on a charming smile as always and laid down on the bed. "So what are you in the mood tonight, Sir?" You asked, tilting your head to appear docile. Vox grinned. "You know, I would love being rough with you, while you weakly try to fight back," he replied, crawling on top of you, "But I'm craving something else tonight..." His hands started roaming your body. His gaze flickered between your cleavage to your eyes. You pulled him down to give him a small peck on the lips. "What might that be?" You asked sweetly. Vox, instead of giving you an answer, started kissing you back with much more fervor. Your hands wandered from the back of his head to his neck. It made Vox groaned into the kiss and grope your tit, allowing a moan to escape your lips. "Fuck," he cursed, breaking the kiss to look deeply into your eyes, "such a good whore..." His hand held your face before moving down to your throat. He grinned as he pressed a little on your throat, "My pretty whore..." After giving you a small kiss, he stood back up and went to his jacket.

Your gaze followed his movement. Vox looked much more tired than usual. Maybe that's why he is acting more gentle as well. You figure you can't complain. At least you'll be able to walk tomorrow. After some searching Vox finds what he looked for. It was a small heart shaped bottle which you quickly recognised. "An aphrodisiac?" You giggled, "That's very unlike you, Sir." "Vox," he said firmly, sitting down on the bed, "Tonight I want you to call me by name." Tensing up a little, you adjusted your position to be more comfortable. "Are... are you sure?" You asked hesitantly to which Vox nodded. You hummed, fidgeting with the sheets underneath. Vox noticed, moving to caress your thigh. "I know, I tend to be more rough," his smooth voice murmered, moving his hand further up to your hip as he also leaned closer to your face, "but I need something more... delicate." God, that silver tongue of his really knows how to set the mood.

You felt your underwear dampening. "I can provide whatever you need, Vox," you whispered sultry, touching his chest lightly. Vox's breath hitched. "Shit," he cursed lowly, "you're so good to me..." He captured your lips in another kiss, but this one was different. His lips lightly pressed forward and his hand held your chin just as gently. Vox treated you so softly. It left your chest warm and your heart racing. Slowly he broke the kiss, allowing a sweet smile to appear. Gazing into your eyes, Vox let a short silence fill the room as he admired your face. You shifted a little, ultimately averting your eyes. You heard him clear his throat and pop the bottle open. Looking back at him, he downed about half of the aphrodisiac and offered the rest to you. Naturally you took it, drinking every last drop of it.

After placing the little bottle aside, you wanted to get started right away as usual, but Vox stopped you. "No, no," he chuckled, finding your confused expression cute, "go the other end of the bed and touch yourself." Your eyes widened. Your cheeks felt much warmer than before. Somehow this felt more embarrassing than begging for his cock. "Alright...," you affirmed, backing up. Tantalisingly you slowly pulled off your clothes piece by pice before tossing them away. Vox continued watching you, softly touching his crotch. You couldn't help, but notice how his dick started growing. It slowed downed your movement so much that Vox noticed. "Keep going," he commanded, grinning mischievously. You continued until you laid bare before him.

His hungry eyes coupled with the effects of the aphrodisiac kicking in had your pussy already pretty wet. Carefully you opened your legs, feeling the cool air hit you. You started gently touching your clit, flinching at the contact. Everything felt so sensitive, so you began simply moaning. Vox looked pleased. He unzipped his pants, adjusting his seat to comfortable start jerking off. Groaning loudly, he too felt sensitive all around and as he looked at your slutty body, he felt extreme excitement to fuck you later on. For now however, he paced himself, stroking his dick slowly. Instead of focusing on his eyes, you looked at his hand. They were rough all around and grabbed onto you so well everytime. They fit your filthy body so well.

A loud moan escaped your lips as you thought back to Vox digging his fingers into your flesh. "Fuck...," you cursed, moaning sweetly. "You look so good, baby," Vox complimented, groaning himself, "Sound so cute too." His breath hitched, a moan slipping out. Your hips shifted, trying to find a better spot as your fingers entered your pussy. The other hand moved to your tits, playing with your nipples. "Fucking hell...," Vox cursed under his breath, stroking his dick at a faster pace, "such a pretty whore." Your head began spinning, getting lost in the sensation. The filthy sounds filled the room and the music became barely audible at this point. Closing your eyes you just wanted the shameless feeling to consume you whole. As you did, you heard Vox shifting. He held onto your thighs tightly. It slowed down your movement.

"Babe," he whispered shakily, "Let me help you out." You moved your hands away. Vox pushed your legs together and pushed them to your chest as well. "Hold on," he requested, his voice breathy. You did as told and held onto your legs firmly. Vox chuckled lowly, caressing your thigh, "You listen to me so well, baby." He let his nails graze your flesh before he leaned down to your pussy. Giving it an experimental lick, you couldn't help flinching. The warmth of his tongue felt unexpectedly good. You couldn't help, but let out a satisfied sigh as he continued gently, "Fuck..., keep going." Vox's tongue circled around your clit slowly before entering your pussy. It made you moan quite loudly and in turn, made Vox moan as well. The vibrations had you arch your back. Strong hands pressed you back onto the bed. Vox groaned, fastening his pace, occasionally circling back to your clit. Another moan of yours slipped out. "Oh, please. Please, please, please...," you heaved, growing frustratingly close to your orgasm.

You think the aphrodisiac was now in full course, because your vision grew blurry as your mouth continued begging sweetly. It had Vox's grip tightening. He pressed further into your pussy, groaning loudly. It makes you shiver. "Gonna cum," you moaned, "Wanna cum. Can I cum? Please, I need it!" Vox hummed, his fingers moving to your clit to roughly please them. You closed your eyes, focusing solely on your ecstacy. You moaned loudly, thanking Vox for his generosity. God, Vox loved you. He loved how you made him feel. It's irresistible. The same way liquor is to an alcoholic, you are simply addicting. His tongue continued for a little before he backed up. Vox sat up straight looking at your fucked out expression. It looks like the aphrodisiac was working well. Your body was so beautiful. Vox caressed your waist. "So pretty...," he mumbled quietly. You heard it, smiling innocently. With great effort you sat, pushing Vox's chest. He let you push him on his back. Your hands roamed his chest, despising his clothes. You unbuttoned his dress shirt, before slipping your hands in to feel his body. He felt warm and it was getting by the minute.

You giggled, looking at Vox who was wide eyed and flushed. Whilst touching him, you leaned forward to make out with him. He happily reciprocated, allowing his tongue to roam your mouth. You heaved a small sigh. Vox groaned. Your hands continued their work, finally undressing his dress shirt. In a swift motion, Vox tossed the clothing aside without breaking the kiss. However you decided breaking the kiss ultimately. Both of you panted, although Vox certainly looked displeased by your behaviour. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, but you found it cute. Quickly you pecked his lips, petting his cheek. "Don't be upset," you told, lowering yourself onto his crotch, "I'll give you something much better than a kiss." Silent anticipation wrecked his body as you slowly unbukled his belt. Fuck, he should have done this way sooner. Would you act like this if he...? "Shit...," he moaned, his body relaxing into your touch. Kissing his erect dick softly, your hands moved up and down. Slowly you captured the tip with your lips, sucking gently.

Vox couldn't help, but buck his hips forward, making you take more than you wanted. "Come on...," he mumbled, "Take my dick properly. Can't wait any longer." You hummed, making Vox curse some more. You removed your hands from his dick, settling them on his thighs. You fastened your pace, deep throating him easily. Vox leaned his head back, heaving a sigh. He looked back at you, placing his hand on top of your head. You expected him to push you further down, instead you felt him stroking your hair. "Pretty whore...," he hissed, "my pretty fucking whore, doing so well for me." The praise encouraged you to keep going, even though your jaw started complaining. Moans slipped through Vox's lips easily and they were followed by sweet compliments. The sound of his voice made you wet all over again. Slowly he quieted down, whispering, "Gonna cum... Gonna cum, princess." He lightly pushed your head further down as he came, making you gag severely. Quickly you backed away, coughing vigorously. "Shit," Vox cursed, petting your back, "You okay?" You nodded, clearing your throat. "I'm fine," you said, licking your lips clean, "you taste so good." Chuckling Vox kissed you briefly, "Can give you more from where that came from."

He pushed you on your back, kissing you everywhere from your head to your collar, except for your lips. His hands were also busy playing with your tit and ass. You pouted, "You keep missing a spot!" Vox halted for a moment to look at you. He smiled. His eyes were twinkling with joy. "You're so cute," he stated, capturing your lips, "I want you to be mine." "Already am, baby," you replied, muffled by the kissing. Your lips felt a pleasant tingling when kissing Vox. Normally the man would be too busy biting you to be this loving, so the feeling had you relaxing more into his touch.

The night continued on with a passion like no other, however your memory became hazy at that point. You figured it was a side effect of the drug, but you couldn't complain Vox was gone in the morning, leaving a heavy sum of money on the side table. With sore legs you got out of bed, putting on your clothes. When you took the money, you saw a note there as well. "Had fun last night. Wanna spend some time alone? No sex, just talking. Call me," it read, followed by a number and an obnoxiously large signature. Sighing deeply you thought through the offer. Vox was an okay sexual partner when he focused on you, but romantically? You had no idea. "Eh, why not...," you mumbled, making a mental note to text him later after you leave the now empty club.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel vox x reader smut

176 notes · View notes

seungkw1 · 2 months

Text

movie night — bsk

♡ pairing: boyfriend!seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], pwp ♡ wc: 1.4k ♡ warnings: swearing, oral (m. receiving), dry humping, dacryphilia, size kink if you squint, petnames (m. & f. receiving - baby)

BOOOOOM.

The sound effects of the CGI explosion on the screen fills the room. You’re on the couch with your boyfriend watching a mediocre action movie that you can clearly tell neither of you are very into. You’ve been snuggled up next to him the whole time - your favorite place to be. But, you did not anticipate becoming this horny.

You’ve been dating Seungkwan for about a month, and he’s been nothing but wonderful. You’re both enamored with each other, but you agreed to take it slow. Let things happen when they happen naturally.

And apparently, tonight was the night.

It started innocently enough. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, he turned toward you out of nowhere to kiss you on the cheek. That part was completely fine, just your boyfriend being sweet as usual. The problem was his other hand that he decided to place on your thigh, his long fingers sliding between your legs. He left his hand there, softly rubbing your thigh with his thumb as he resumed watching the movie. Not even realizing that he was inches away from your cunt. Not even realizing how much he was making your clit throb.

But now it’s all you can focus on. You feel the heat building between your legs, your heart rate starting to increase as your pussy becomes wetter and wetter by the minute. You want him so bad right now.

You’ve been doing your best not to squirm in your seat at Seungkwan’s touch, but you feel like you’re going to explode if you try to hold it in any longer. Shifting slightly, you reach your arm across your body and lay it unsuspectingly on his stomach. Right above the waist of his pants. Right above the waist of his thin gray sweatpants that are driving you absolutely insane. All you can think about is his cock - you want so badly just to reach down, to touch it. To feel its weight through the fabric. The fabric that is doing jack fucking shit to hide its shape resting between his thighs as he sits comfortably with his legs spread just the right amount. You keep stealing glances down toward his crotch, wanting to grab his cock - fantasizing about how it would feel in your hand, your mouth, your pussy.

Your mouth watering at this point, you realize the movie has ended as Seungkwan stretches in his seat.

“What did you think?” he asks as he turns to face you. His soft round cheeks look so incredibly kissable, his big brown eyes looking at you with so much adoration in them.

“I’m gonna be so honest right now, I barely could pay attention to it,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Wow, that bad huh?”

“I mean…” you start. The expression on his face barely changes, but you can tell he’s curious about what you’re about to say.

“The movie was fine, I was just distracted by you.”

He tries to hide his smile. “How so?” he inquires playfully as he leans in and swiftly plants a kiss on your lips.

You hesitate slightly, but another quick glance downward tells you he also is getting very turned on right now.

You reciprocate the touch on the thigh, your hand caressing inwards, resting barely below his bulge. Seungkwan inhales sharply at the sensation, his body tensing; your fingers feel the fabric of his pants grow even more taut.

He stares at you, the expression on his face shifting from love to lust.

He reaches and grabs your hand, guiding it to his clothed cock. He lets out a low groan as you feel him. It’s heavier than you expected - you squeeze your hand softly around its width, feeling it grow harder.

Seungkwan is in heaven - and you’ve barely even touched him. He’s practically licking his lips. You make your next move: you take his hand, guiding it under the elastic band of your comfy pajama pants. He gasps as you press his fingers to your underwear, feeling how incredibly wet your pussy is through the thin fabric. You let out a soft whimper as his fingertips graze your clit. Your cunt is absolutely throbbing at this point, begging to be touched, to be eaten, to be fucked.

Your boyfriend kisses you - making out with you like never before, your tongues pushing into each other's mouths, both devouring the other. He circles over your clit through your soaked underwear - gently, but still enough to drive you fucking crazy.

He tugs at your waistband - you instantly slide your pants and underwear off in one go. You swing your leg over Seungkwan’s lap, straddling him as your bare pussy presses against his clothed bulge. You cry out, the sensation providing your desperate cunt some relief - but you crave more.

You begin to grind against his hardened cock. Seungkwan moans in symphony with you as you both are overwhelmed with pleasure. The wetness of your pussy is all over his pants - the light gray fabric darkened by your arousal. Your hips rock faster and faster as the burning sensation in your abdomen grows hot.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Cum for me, baby,” Seungkwan says breathily as his large hands grasp your hips, pushing you harder onto his cock as you start to cum. Your body shakes as you reach your orgasm, clinging onto your boyfriend as you ride out your high - cries of ecstasy filling the room.

You collapse onto him as you come down, your arms wrapped around him, your face buried in his neck. He rubs your back as you take a moment to recover, your chest rising and falling against his in deep breaths.

Once you recuperate, you raise your head and touch your nose to his. You let out a giggle before kissing him slowly. Seungkwan wraps his arms around your torso, squeezing you against him tightly - making it impossible to ignore the hardness of his cock pressing into your core. One more kiss, and then you slide yourself off his lap, kneeling on the ground before him. The protrusion in his gray sweats sits before you, its size accentuated by the large wet spot you created. You pull down the waistband of his pants and reach into his underwear, wrapping your hand around his cock as you pull it out. He groans as you slowly pump up and down its length, precum already leaking from his tip. You take the tip in your mouth, tasting his juices as you continue stroking his cock. You look up at him as your tongue licks his entire length - he nearly whimpers at the sensation, his eyes begging you for more. You oblige, taking him in your mouth, swallowing every inch of him - causing him to let out a moan as his eyes close, laying his head back onto the couch.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, that feels so good baby,” he praises as he gently rests his hand on your head, applying the lightest of pressure. You begin to slide your mouth up and down, his cock hitting you in the back of the throat with each stroke. Your eyes water as you choke on him, tears beginning to fall, but you love it.

Seungkwan begins to push down on your head a bit more. You increase your pace, gagging as you swallow his entire cock with each motion - but this only causes him to push down even harder. His hips start bucking as his moans grow louder.

“I’m so close,” he groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

His cock pulsates in your mouth, white ropes filling your throat as he thrusts his hips into you. His hand relaxes against your head as he comes down, stroking your hair softly as he sinks into the couch. You slowly pull his cock out of your mouth, making sure you swallow every last drop of his cum.

You climb back up onto the couch, straddling his lap once again as you kiss all over his cheeks, making him giggle. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight, the warmth radiating from your bodies making you feel extra cozy.

He lets out a contented sigh. “Well that was fun,” he finally says. You laugh out loud.

“Yeah, I think I could get used to that.”

He pulls his head back, staring lovingly into your eyes. He goes to say something, but pauses.

“What?” you ask him with a soft smile.

You feel him push his hips up, rubbing his spit-covered cock against your core, making your cunt pulsate again. He smirks back at you.

“Wanna go for round two?”

[end]

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#boo seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan smut #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan fics #svt fics #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

220 notes · View notes

from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. v

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. -- In other words, Joel takes you on your first date. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.6k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY (it's happening, folks!) - unprotected sex, please dm if you want specifics but I’m not trying to spoil too much. If you don't want to read the smut, it doesn't happen until about halfway through the chapter. Crying after sex. Angst. FLUFF. Mentions of anxiety & self-doubt, alcohol consumption. a/n: Help! I can’t stop writing fit checks into this story!! This ended up being insanely horny but also shockingly sweet. I worked way way way too hard on it so please say nice things to me. Might need to take a couple days off because I'm really feeling burnt out. So please enjoy in the meantime.

-May 16, 2003-

Joel doesn’t like lying to Sarah.

Although, he’s not sure that he’s lying to her as much as he is simply….omitting information. Depending on who you ask, that could still be considered lying.

He’s fresh out of the shower when he steps into the living room, fishes through the catch-all basket located just inside the front door, and pockets his wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?”

Sarah’s lounging on the couch, on her back, one of her hands slung behind her head. There’s a book opened on her lap, but she’s not reading. “You’re all dressed up.”

Joel looks down at his green flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Truth be told, he’s a little ashamed he doesn’t have anything nicer in his closet. It’s not like he ever has any occasion to dress up, but he’s already feeling self-conscious and being (most likely) underdressed isn’t helping. Based on the very limited information he knows about your past relationships, you’re probably accustomed to crisp dress shirts, ties, blazers. He doesn’t own any of those things — he did, at one point, have the tux from his wedding, but he’d gotten rid of it after the divorce. Every time he saw it in the back of his closet, it made him sick. Regardless, tonight he’d done the best he could otherwise - showered, trimmed his beard, and even dug through his medicine cabinet for an old – probably expired – bottle of cologne. Hopefully it was enough.

“I’ve uh….I’ve got a date.” Joel says.

The theme song from That’s So Raven is blaring through the living room, but it immediately cuts out as Sarah presses mute and sits up entirely from her spot on the couch. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Joel says. “Your uncle is coming over, though, he’s gonna drop me off and then he said he’d take you to the movies.”

As if on cue, he hears Tommy’s truck pull into the drive. “Yes!” Sarah leaps up from the couch. “I have to change first.”

“Hurry up, babygirl, I’m already runnin’ behind,” Joel calls after her.

Tommy knocks twice on the front door before letting himself in anyways.

“You’re late,” Joel informs, shutting the door behind him. They should’ve left five minutes ago, and the last thing Joel wants is for you to think he’s not punctual. To be fair, he’s not, and almost never is. But you don’t need to know that….yet.

“Hello to you, too,” Tommy trails after him into the kitchen. Joel is tempted to chug a beer, or fish the half-empty bottle of whiskey he’s got in the cabinet out to take a shot — just to take the edge off. But he refrains. It wouldn’t be a good look to show up smelling of booze.

“So…who's the lucky lady?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, Tommy presses. “Come on, Joel, who is it?”

He contemplates telling his brother the truth, but he doesn’t want to give him the idea that he had taken his advice. He didn’t. Well maybe he did, but he knows Tommy will become insufferable if he finds out.

“Is it who I think it is?” Tommy asks. “It better be.”

Unfortunately, Tommy knows him too well. They’re brothers, and really, Joel’s first and oldest friend. The answer is written all over his face.

Tommy grins. “Fucking finally. Oh my god, dude, I thought you’d never-”

“Alright, alright!” Joel interjects, eyes darting nervously up the stairs, where he hears his daughter shuffling around in her bathroom. “Keep your mouth shut, I haven’t told Sarah yet.”

Tommy raises his hands in defense, but at least seems to understand how serious Joel is. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down at the countertop, and is compelled to be honest with his little brother. “I’m uh….I’m a little nervous, though. Been awhile since I’ve done anything like this.”

Tommy grows serious. “Do you want my advice?”

“Yours?” Joel feels like whatever advice he has to offer is likely questionable, particularly with someone like you. “No thanks. I’d rather make a good impression.”

His brother ignores the subtle dig. “You sure? Because unlike you, I actually go on dates. I mean, it’s been what, like….ten years?” He crosses his arms, pretends to think. It’s probably only been a couple of months since the last time Joel took someone out, and Tommy knows it, but he loves to dramatize. “I mean at this stage, you’re basically a born-again virgin. Do you even remember how to put on a condom?”

Joel crosses his arms and glares at his brother, who begins giggling at his bad joke. “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything to you,” he shakes his head.

“Oh come on Joel, you’ll be fine,” Tommy says. “Really. She’s into you. I could tell when we were all together the other night. Even when I was dancing with her, I kept catching her lookin’ your way…”

“Yeah, well….” Joel rubs the back of his neck to play off the surge of warmth he gets from this information. “Thanks.”

Sarah’s bathroom door opens, and he hears the staccato beat of her sneakers coming down the stairs. Joel points at Tommy one last time. “Not a word, understand?”

Tommy nods just as she rounds the corner.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah raises her hand to give him a high-five, which they both purposely miss so they can collide palms on the downswing, grab each other’s hands and then begin a secret handshake so complex that Joel, who has seen it a thousand times, still doesn’t think he could execute correctly if he tried.

“How’s my favorite niece?”

“I’m your only niece.”

“Touche,” they shoot at each other with finger guns before she wraps him in a hug and Tommy presses his nose to the top of her head. Despite the fact that their little routine is costing Joel precious time, almost all the annoyance he’d been feeling with his brother dissipates at the sight.

“We all ready?” Tommy asks her, then points at him. “Don’t want to make this casanova late.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Sarah looks over at Joel with a smile that doesn’t seem entirely sincere. When she was younger and he’d gone on dates, she always had a lot more questions. Who is it? What is she like? When can I meet her? Is she pretty? Over the years, however, she became less and less interested. It was because she was smart, and had caught onto the pattern - he’d go on a date, maybe one or two more, then there’d be a long period of nothing before the cycle repeated itself every couple months. It rarely developed into anything that would concern her, and Joel always kept the details to himself.

While they’re en route to the restaurant – a little French bistro that had opened up recently — Sarah and Tommy bicker about what movie they want to see.

“I wanna see Holes. I just read the book.”

Tommy grimaces. “What about Matrix Reloaded? It just came out.”

“I already told dad I’d go to that with him.”

“So?” he looks between Sarah and Joel. “Why can’t you just see it twice?”

“No,” Sarah says emphatically. “I have to see it with dad first. It’s not fair.”

Tommy groans, mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe you let her watch that crap,” as if he wasn’t about to do the same thing.

“She likes it,” Joel shrugs.

“All the more reason to see it tonight.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns.

“Fine.”

“I don’t really like it, though. I just like to keep dad company so he doesn’t have to see it alone.”

“You’re too nice,” Tommy takes a beat. “Are you sure you aren’t adopted?”

“Shut up,” Joel and Sarah answer at the same time, and Joel holds his palm behind him for his daughter to slap.

Tommy acquiesces, his truck jolting as it pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. Joel’s heart rate picks up immediately. The car rolls to a stop and Joel turns to look at both of them. “Alright, I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Sounds good,” says Sarah.

“Have fun,” Tommy raises his eyebrows, winks, and thankfully Sarah doesn’t see it, because she’s getting out of the truck to take Joel’s spot shotgun. He makes sure she’s settled with her seatbelt on before he shuts the door.

He isn’t trying to waste time, but Joel watches them pull out of the lot and back onto the street before he goes inside the restaurant. Really, he just needs a minute to collect himself. There’s no good reason for him to be as anxious as he is, he’s already kissed you once, and you had seemed to like it — quite a lot too. For the past week the feeling of your body pressed up against him, legs around his torso, was pretty much all he thought about when his mind wandered. Mostly at night before bed, and even today, in the shower when he was getting ready - just to try and calm down. Even now, the idea leaves him flustered.

Nevertheless, this probably isn’t even technically a first date. He hasn’t had issues speaking to you in the past, so this should be easy. Right? But what if you change your mind? And what if it dawns on you that he’s not your type? Even worse, what if you realize he’s just not good enough?

Joel forces himself inside before he talks himself out of this. When he enters, he sees you first. You’re across the room, leaning over the small bar where a few other patrons are. Greedily, he takes you in, and it’s easy to trace your figure in the tight black shift dress you’ve got on, sheer black tights underneath. It’s sleek, stylish - not that Joel knows much about that. As usual, you stand out in stark contrast to every other person in the place. He likes it. But he feels underdressed. He’ll look ridiculous standing next to you, and he briefly considers turning around, leaving, and saving himself the embarrassment.

That’s until you move, angling yourself towards him and scanning the restaurant, an elbow resting on the bar, a hand on your knee. You’re looking for him, waiting for him, and finally, you’re rewarded when your eyes catch. Suddenly, Joel doesn’t care about what he’s wearing. He doesn't care that he’s not good enough. At the very least, he doesn’t have to guess if you’re interested in him anymore, not with how you’re gazing at him — a soft smile and narrowed eyes that betray your enthusiasm. Sure, he's not good enough, but he decides if he’s going to go down in flames, he’ll do it trying to convince you otherwise.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe I should’ve eaten a proper lunch, you think to yourself. You’ve barely touched the drink in your hand, but you’re already starting to feel it. And even though you are the designated driver tonight, for now, the slight buzz is welcome, working to soothe.

Over the years, you’d been on your fair share of first dates. Unlike most…you don’t hate them. For whatever reason, getting to know new people had always come easy, particularly if they were the right person. Being a lawyer, you had a knack for talking yourself into or out of almost anything. So it was just as easy to let someone know if they weren’t the right person. The best part of first dates, however, was that they lacked all the things you hated — promises, expectations, and conversations that went deeper than general pleasantries.

So all things considered, you shouldn’t feel as tense as you do right now.

There’s a few factors that might have something to do with it, and your brain turns them over, biding your time until your date arrives.

First is the text that sits opened on your BlackBerry.

Dad’s home from the hospital. Doing better. Call when you can. - Vince

Your father has been in and out of the hospital for the last month or so, his health rapidly declining. But every update from your brother, however innocent they may be, feels like veiled threats. You should be here. You should know this. I shouldn't have to text you about it. I can’t believe I’m the only one looking after him. A part of you wants to believe that Vincent wouldn’t play that sort of game with you, but as you’ve gotten older and grown apart, you’d gotten worse at deciphering his motivations. Vaguely, you acknowledge that you could just be projecting, and you are the only one trying to make you feel bad.

And then there’s Joel.

He’s running late, you hope, or he’s stood you up. And you have already promised yourself that you’re only gonna wait ten more minutes before heading home with your tail tucked between your legs. The thought of that makes you regret agreeing to this in the first place. You’d already embarrassed yourself the last time you were together, practically begging him to take you on the kitchen countertop, but he’d insisted on doing this right. You should’ve pushed harder because you’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe….a zipless fuck would’ve sufficed. Oh, who were you kidding? You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real.

He knows you better than most first dates do. You’ve told him more about your family, about your fucked up childhood, about your aversion to committed relationships more than any friend you’ve made since moving to Texas. And he listened. It should make you feel better. He knows what he’s getting himself into, and he asked you here anyways. Maybe he’s having second thoughts.

For what feels like the thousandth time, you check your emails and take a sip of your dirty martini – your preferred vehicle for alcohol consumption. Ultimately, you like the idea of a martini more than the actual taste, but you appreciate how direct they are. You scan the restaurant one last time, doing your best to look casual, like you don’t really care. Like you’re supposed to be there alone.

But when your head turns towards the entrance, Joel is standing across from you.

He gives you a bashful smile, one that makes your stomach flip, and makes his way over – though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. It’s like he knows you’d sit and wait for him for as long as it takes – you would, you will, you are.

When he finally lands in front of you, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his dark-wash jeans, he leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek for the briefest moment, and pulls back, looking you up and down.

“It’s good to see you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly. The term of endearment makes your ears feel hot. You're shocked at the effect he has on you, almost can’t believe it. It scares you, too, but you want to chase the feeling. “You look great.”

“So do you,” because you’re not one to lie. He does. As good as always, but he might’ve trimmed his beard for the occasion and maybe….put on cologne? It’s hard to tell, and in your brief experience being so close to him, he’s always smelled good regardless.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “Can’t count on Tommy to get me anywhere on time.”

“It’s alright,” you say casually, like you hadn’t had your whole exit strategy planned out just minutes ago. “I got to have a drink while I wait. You want something?” you gesture towards the bartender.

“Sure,” Joel answers. “How about an old fashioned?” There’s no room for him to sit, so he leans next to you, arm on the bartop, invading your personal space while you wait for your table. Your skin buzzes like you’ve never been this close to a man before in your life. Pathetic.

He orders his drink before he speaks to you again. “Have you been here before?” he asks.

You shake your head no. “I was planning on coming a couple months ago but….never got around to it.”

“It’s good,” he says. “I’ve been a couple times.”

“Is this where you take all the girls you go out with?” you raise an eyebrow, grateful that your voice sounds even despite the way your blood is fizzing, your heart pumping so fast you can feel it in your ears.

Joel shakes his head no. “That’s down the street.”

“Oh?” you nod, sip your drink. Whatever buzz you’d been feeling is gone in the wake of adrenaline. “So….why didn’t you take me there, then?”

“It’s not as nice,” Joel smirks, leaning in a little closer – if it were possible. His lips are practically touching your ear, and his voice is raspy for what comes next. “And I’m trying to impress you.”

“Right,” you can’t help but smile, pulling back so you can lock eyes. He’s so sincere you can’t even think up a clever quip in return. “How thoughtful.”

He gives you a cheeky grin. You want to touch him, want to hold him, want to fist the front of his shirt or tug on the hair at the back of his neck and stick your tongue down his throat like you aren’t surrounded by an entire restaurant of patrons.

It’s going to be the longest fucking dinner of your life.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You survive.

But at a cost.

And you don’t learn anything new about Joel, except for the fact that your memory hasn’t exaggerated how charming he is, how charismatic, how thoughtful. All the times you’d allowed yourself to daydream about him didn’t hold a candle. Enjoying the meal is difficult, because you just want to get him alone. He can sense it – you’re pretty sure, because he orders himself a coffee after dessert, and sips on it ever-so-slowly, smirking at you over the rim of the mug.

When dinner’s over, you offer to drive Joel home, since he’d gotten a ride here. By this point, the martini is long gone from your system and you sort of want to pour yourself another when you get home. Even if you don’t drink much, the nerves have resurfaced.

He walks a few paces behind you as you leave the restaurant, taking his time, and you step to your side of the car, making to unlock it – until something grabs your bicep – briskly – and spins you around.

It’s Joel. He snuck up behind you, you hadn’t heard, and he’s right in front of you now, pinning you between the car and his body, surrounding you entirely. He lifts a hand, cups your cheek, and kisses you. It happens so fast you let out a whimper of surprise – directly into his mouth, but he swallows it down, and cradles you so gently, but still firm. Resolute. I’m not letting you go.

When he pulls back, you notice his cheeks are flushed, ever so slightly. It makes you wonder what you could do to see them get even redder. Your arms have found their way to rest on his shoulders, and you’re boxed in, the handle to your car door digging into your ass. Without a word, just a cheeky grin, he retreats to the passenger's side of the car and gets inside.

You settle in the driver's seat beside him, and he looks over at you. “Hope that was okay, I couldn’t wait…” he says, almost apologetically. “But I was tryin’ all night to be good.”

“Yeah, well….not much use in that anymore,” you tilt your head. “Do you want to….hang out at my place?”

“Yeah, we can ‘hang out’ at your place,” Joel quips.

Scoffing in mock offense, you offer a retort. “What would you rather me have said? Come over for a nightcap? That’s a little cliche.”

He grimaces, as if he’s in agreement. You continue. “Or would you rather I be more direct? Joel, why don’t you come over so we can have sex?”

That makes him laugh, loudly, and it’s such a warm, comforting sound, you wish you could find a way to capture it and hear it over and over again. “Oh, is that what’s going to happen?” he asks.

“Guess we’ll find out,” You shrug, trying to play it off, in case you overstepped. Then you focus on putting the keys in the ignition without fumbling.

It’s not a long drive back to your place, but Joel seems determined to make sure it feels like it is. Either that, or he’s trying to get you to cause an accident. First his hand is resting on the back of your neck, brushing through the hair at the base of your skull. Then it’s on your shoulder, his thumb pressing into your taut muscles. You actually have to bite your tongue so you don’t moan. It’s not even sexual, really, but it just feels good to be touched, especially by him.

Eventually, you hit a stoplight, and while you’re waiting, his hand continues to wander…and comes to rest just above your knee. His hands are fucking huge, first of all, which maybe you’ve noticed before, and there are a few scars and scratches on the backs of his knuckles. It's the weight of it, the warmth of it, the way he’s settled it so casually like it’s nothing – like it belongs there, and he doesn’t even have to ask. Of course he doesn’t. And the confidence, the cockiness. It feels like someone’s taken an arrow to the pit of your stomach, and something thick and hot starts curling down, down, down….

You swallow hard, and he’s looking at you. He doesn’t speak right away, just stares, something dark and unfamiliar in his eyes.

“I hope I’m doing alright,” voice raspy, low, but still smooth as ever.

Shaking your head, you’re able to surface just enough over the haze of arousal. “You want a performance review?” you tease, giving a small smile. “We should hold off on that until later…”

That makes Joel laugh again, your stomach flips, and his thumb begins to stroke your kneecap, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh, inching forward to clasp farther inward, nearly grabbing at you, squeezing. The only thing separating his skin from your own is a thin pair of stockings that end dangerously close to where his hand is working. If he finds out that he’s just a few centimeters away from meeting bare skin, you’re afraid of what could happen.

“Joel,” you warn.

“What?” he asks, voice light and innocent.

“You’re distracting me.”

“You want me to stop?”

No. The light turns green, and you have to hold back the impulse to break every traffic law if it means you’ll get to have him just a second sooner.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“--my room is–” Joel cuts you off with another searing kiss, and it takes a second before you can conjure the self control to pull away again to finish the thought. “--down the hall.”

“Yeah?”

He’s got you crowded back against the entry closet of your house, hovering over you, one of his hands bracing itself beside your head, and the other slowly dragging down your body, his lips following….moving down your neck.

“Uh-huh,” you barely can get it out between strangled gasps for air.

And then he’s hooking his hands behind your knees. “Are you sure you don’t want, like-” Joel lifts you, and you lock your legs around his torso. “An amaretto or something?”

“No,” he’s gripping on to you so tightly it hurts, but you don’t mind.

“I could put on….a record-”

“No,” he repeats, and you’re being carried down the hall.

You hadn’t expected him to pounce on you the instant that you came in through the garage door. Not that you minded. It’s just that usually you’d play it a bit more coy. You’d set the mood, light a candle, have a chat. But, you suppose you don’t need to do anything to get you in the mood. You’re already there.

Joel’s mouth never separates from you, not until you’re in your room. He’s so sure of himself, you think he might be the type to throw you into the mattress, climb on top of you and rip at the zipper on the back of your dress. But he doesn’t. You’re laid down delicately, like you’re made of glass, and he’s being careful not to break you.

He weaves his thumb and forefinger around both your wrists, then pulls them up so they’re pinned above your head. This way, you’re completely at his mercy. When he lowers himself between your legs, and you feel the weight of his body pressed against you, you groan, fighting against the restraint, desperate to touch him. So you do the best you can and wrap your stocking-clad feet around his waist, trying to get some leverage, to bring him closer.

“Just wanna take my time with you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, like he can read your mind. You’re starting to think he can – how else can he be so irresistible on his own accord?

Joel makes good on his promise. With you all docile beneath him, he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of exposed skin available – even though you’re still fully clothed. Each press of his lips has you breathing unevenly – sighing, then gasping, then sharp, short inhales. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but giggle and quirm.

Joel huffs in response, releasing you from his hold, and he tilts his head to whisper in your ear. “Do you have any idea how much I like hearing that? Knowing it’s because of me?” Immediately, you lower your hands to cup his cheeks, to regard him. He can’t be serious.

“You’re too sweet,” you mutter.

“So are you,” he answers, and ducks his head to return to your neck. “So sweet, and so fucking pretty, too…” His hands begin wandering, one of them cupping your breast, thumb finding a peaked nipple even through the fabric of your dress and your bra. The words he’s saying are too much, you’ll do anything to make him shut up, arching your back so you can feel him – already hard – against your clothed core.

“Joel-”

“God, I want to see you-fuck!” he pulls back, rolls you over, and you shift your weight so he has access to the dress’ zipper at your side. He makes quick work of it, and brings you to a seated position, helping you remove it all the way before kissing you again, then abruptly stopping. He wants you so badly….but he’s trying to savor the moment. “Let me look at you for a second.”

He takes you in, the stockings you’re wearing and the matching set of black lace you’d picked out beforehand. Of course, you’d thought about this. You always did for occasions like this, but Joel had stumped you. What would he like? This….was pretty understated, but he seemed like a salt-of-the earth guy. Not what you were used to. It probably wouldn’t make a difference whether or not you were in full-on lingerie. And even if you knew he wouldn’t care, you still had wanted to impress him. All the more reason to try.

“This for me?” he asks, hooking his finger on the inside of your stockings and snapping the elastic.

“Yeah,” you nod, honest. “I want you, Joel.” And there’s more to it, too. You’ve thought about just how badly for months. It kept you up at night, then helped you fall asleep when you couldn’t shake his image from your head. For now, you are going to keep that to yourself. But it doesn’t mean it’s not gonna slip out. Not when he’s looking at you like this.

“Yeah?” he says, steps forward, towers over you. “I want you, too, so fuckin’ bad. So fucking pretty, baby,” Dropping back to your elbows, you feel…small. Any other time, you might sit up, try to feel some kind of control, but for whatever reason, you stay where you are.

Joel wasn’t exaggerating when he said he wanted to take his time. It’s frustrating. It’s torture. He worships you, makes sure his mouth is on nearly every part of your body before he finishes undressing you. Your ankles hook over his shoulders, his hands grazing, dragging thin nylon up and off each leg. He kisses your calves, the inside of your knees, your thighs. He uses one hand to unhook your bra and pulls it away. He spends what feels like hours with his mouth on your breasts – sucking, licking, nipping – hands cupping, grabbing, pinning you down. The whole time, he’s telling you how badly he wants you, how pretty you are, how good you’re being for him. He’s either touching you too much, or maybe not enough. It’s hard to say. Only after he’s reduced you to an incoherent, whimpering mess do you somehow find the strength to fight back.

By this point, you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your leg hooked over his hip, the waistband of his jeans digging into bare skin. He’s still got all his fucking clothes on, which makes everything so much worse, because it’s clear whose in control here, and it’s certainly not you.

The button of his flannel is where you start, and then you work downward. Joel doesn’t stop you at any point. You think he might, just because of how things have been going. But he’s as easy as you are, and you take him in all the same after you’ve shucked off his jeans, and he’s closer to your state of buff.

To be fair, you’ve spent enough time lingering by the windows – when he’s outside mowing the lawn shirtless, or picking up his newspaper in the morning, or doing workouts in his garage with the door open (such a tease!) – to have an idea of what to expect. He’s not ripped by any means but neither are you – and you’ve never liked that anyways. But it’s not hard to ascertain that he spends all day in the sun, lifting and hauling things around. His muscles are defined, rippling lightly under his skin with each panting breath he takes. Joel’s a spectacle – broad and tan, a line of dark hair dipping from his belly-button down into the waistband of his dark-gray briefs. You can make out the way his cock is straining against the fabric.

Once you’ve appraised him as best as you can – you can see that he’s studying you, almost like he’s anxious, like you might not like what you see. As if he doesn’t know. Ridiculous. You aren’t going to leave him guessing. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Joel,” you shake your head. “You’re a fucking stud.”

Joel’s face breaks out in a grin and he yanks you back so you’re on top of him, legs on either side of his chest. And finally, finally, you can touch him like you’ve been wanting. His skin is warm – it’s kind of hot in your room, you’d forgotten to turn on the A/C, so you’re both a little sweaty. But and it’s unclear if it’s because of the heat or just how worked up you are. It doesn’t matter, because it only turns you on even more. You trace the broad plane of his chest, hand snaking down…all the way to his boxers, but he stops you.

He’d let you undress him, allowed it, but this…it crosses a line. Joel hooks his hands behind your thighs and begins to drag you up, up, up, while he shifts lower. It takes a second to register what he’s doing, and when it does, you try to stop it.

“Joel, wait I-”

“I have to taste you darlin’, that okay?” His dark hair is fanned out around his head, resting on your floral pillowcase. In the dim light, his pupils are so blown out you can barely see anything else except black. “I’ll give you whatever you want, but you’ve gotta let me taste you first.”

It’s not that you don’t want it, but he’s taken you off guard, and you’re already overwhelmed by how intimate all this has been, gentle and languid while he whispers honeyed words into your ear. His mind seems already made up, and you don’t really want to tell him no.

“Alright,” you manage, and you grip the top of the headboard.

It’s embarrassing how wet you already are. It started with his hand on your knee in the car, and you have spent the last hour clenching around nothing, squeezing your legs together and searching for friction. Anything. Well, you are about to get it.

Joel’s lips press to the insides of your thighs, once more, dangerously close to where you’re weeping for him. His nose bumps your clit when he turns his head, and you whine – hips sinking to seek the contact that he’s been denying you, and then immediately pulling back in a moment of clarity.

“No, no,” Joel’s hands immediately land on your hips to hold you in place, bringing you lower. “Stay right there for me.”

You don’t dare move.

Finally, his mouth finds you. You think he might tease for a little bit, go slow, because he’s been doing that all night, and it’s become infuriating. But he doesn’t. He eats you out, laves at you. A hot, velvet tongue that works up a steady rhythm. It’s interrupted only by the vibration of his moans every so often, which only add to the pleasure. For a moment, you miss how he’d been talking to you before, but you’re so sensitive, so eager, that you think you’ll sacrifice anything if it means he’s not going to stop. Joel keeps you still with a bruising grip on your hips. All you can do is let him have his way and whimper his name over and over, listen to him groan in response.

Being consistent is key for you. And Joel is nothing but. Practiced, but feral….like he’s been holding back all night. It’s been a long time, or maybe he’s just that excited, it’s hard to tell. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Can’t bring yourself to care about much more than him, the man below you working you over with just his mouth.

“I’m…Joel, I’m-” you try to pull off again, it’s too much, but he doesn’t allow it. Even if the position he’s in is compromising, he’s managed to find a way to assert himself. The coil inside you has wound so tightly that almost every muscle in your body is tense. Now, can’t even move, not even if you wanted to, and he keeps going, your words have only made him more determined.

The coil snaps. You cry out, using the headboard to stifle your noises – not worried that it will probably leave a mark. If you get nothing else from Joel, then at least it will serve as a reminder that he was here, beneath you, lapping up everything you have to give him. The orgasm leaves you weak, trembling, but he holds you up, works you through it until the waves begin to cease, and then you’re so overstimulated, so sensitive that you start to feel lightheaded. “Fuck, Joel, I can’t-” You tug on his hair, hope he’ll get the hint and release you, but he doesn’t. If anything, it only spurs him on.

His mouth is white hot on you, his tongue damp, firm as it circles your clit and drags downward. He gives you nowhere to go, no opportunity to come down from the high, so within minutes, or seconds – at this point, you’ve lost track of time – he’s worked you up to the precipice of release, and you’re coming again, crying out to him.

At last, he eases off, lets you relax. You do, carefully, and so does he, gradually removing his mouth from you while your hand untangles from his dark curls. Joel holds you steady as he sits back against the headboard, keeping you splayed across his lap. You don’t waste your time saying something stupid like “you didn’t have to do that,” because you’re not gonna pretend you didn’t love every second, but mostly because you’re not sure you’re capable of speaking just yet. His hand catches your jaw, and he looks at you – innocently, like he hadn’t just done what he had done, like his fucking beard, and chin, and lips weren’t still wet with you. But the ornery glint in his eyes gives him away. “You liked that?” he has the audacity to ask.

A shaky hand comes to pinch your eyebrows as you let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah, Joel….yeah.”

“Good,” he answers.

“I was right about you,” you manage.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, and his hand skates up your arm, the other settling on your waist. It’s grounding, reassuring as your heart attempts to steady its beating.

“You’re trouble.”

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, and he leans in close. “Only for you, pretty girl.”

Your hips jolt back at the term of endearment, so much so that you feel the length of his cock, hard against your ass. It’s your turn to take care of him, but it shouldn’t be difficult, because your arousal is already building again. It’ll be much, much, easier to come again, specifically around him. Plus, right now, you are willing to do just about anything for him. You kiss him, and it’s sloppy, lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth. Heat curls again in the pit of your stomach, and you grind yourself down on him through his underwear.

Joel’s head falls back, bonks the headboard, and the thud of impact is overshadowed by his agonized moan. You reach down between your bodies, let your touch land over his clothed cock. He pants out your name. So many things you could do – with only your hand, or your mouth, but before you can decide, he speaks again.

“Wanna be inside you,” he grits out. “So fucking bad.”

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, no. I need you.”

“You can have me,” you nod, leaning forward to kiss his neck, pushing down the elastic of his underwear. Joel lets you, his hips stuttering, until he freezes. “Shit.” He reaches out to halt your movements.

You look up, his eyes are wide. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I uh, I left my wallet in the car,” Joel’s voice is pinched, palms leaving your body to press against his eyes, frustrated. “I brought condoms, but they’re - I’ll have to go get them.”

“I have some,” you pipe up, nodding towards your bedside table. Joel reaches for it, but it's your turn to stop him. “But I mean, I’m clean,” you say. “...And I have an IUD, so…”

Joel pauses, stares at you under thick lashes. “You sure that…” So tentative. “....That’s okay with you?”

You feel yourself smirk a little as you look at him. It’s not something you’d allow anyone to do. But you’re feeling a little lost in the moment. The part of your brain that usually tells you to run for the hills whenever things get too real has turned off. It’s not the first time he’s caused that, and you sort of enjoy the delusion. There’s no question. It’s Joel. “Oh, yeah.”

The words ignite something in him that you weren’t entirely prepared for, and he’s pulling you hard against his mouth with one hand, while the other pushes his briefs down the rest of the way. You don’t get the chance to see him, to feel him, before he’s lining himself up with your slick cunt.

It’s a soft glide of sensitive skin across sensitive skin, and you shake with anticipation. You don’t even know you have your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, until you hear Joel’s voice.

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Please just-” he swallows hard. “I wanna watch you. So fucking pretty.”

You obey, and he guides your hand to replace your own. It’s not until your hand wraps around him that you’re aware of just how thick his cock is, throbbing and leaking, and it makes you all the more eager. Slowly, you start to sink down, but it’s too challenging to take him all at once. So first, just the tip, you roll back to ease the sting, then gradually sink lower and low.

Joel moves closer to you, holding his breath, guiding you along, propped back against the pillows. “That’s it, so fucking good, baby…”

You understand why he was moving so languidly earlier. This is meant to be enjoyed. After some time, and lots of praise, your hips settle flush with his own, and he’s seated fully inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that your body isn’t fully ready to accommodate, but it has your toes curling and mouth hanging open, bearing down on him involuntarily. Under Joel’s watchful gaze you feel terribly, terribly exposed.

“Keep going,” Joel encourages. So you move. It’s experimental at first, small ruts against him, getting used to the way it feels. It doesn’t take you long to find the spot that makes you abandon eye contact, throw your head back, and –

“Oh, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he sounds strained, pinched – he’s holding back, but still enjoying every second. “That feel good?”

You nod furiously. He lets you find a rhythm that works for you, lets you take your time, and once you do, he starts to match your pace. His hands don’t stay in one place for very long. First, they’re resting gently on your ass. Then they’re cupping your tits, watching them bounce as they sway with your movements. He brings his knees up behind you, pressing his feet into the bed, and uses the leverage to fuck himself deeper each time you lower yourself onto him.

At this point, you’re unaware of what types of noises you must be making, and you’re thankful that you’re alone so you can be as loud as you want. His cock is hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed, and rolling across the same spot over and over and over.

“You feel so perfect for me,” Joel says, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling. “So, so good, baby, so fucking pretty.”

“Mm-hmm,” is all you can answer, nodding furiously and feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with every thrust.

You’re too easy for him. And you were too worked up to begin with. “Joel, I can’t-”

He slams his hips up into yours so hard you cut yourself off with a choked gasp. Then he does it again. “You gonna come for me?” he asks. “I can feel you, baby, I know it’s close.”

“Y-yeah,” he’s got you stammering on your words. You’re clamping down onto him so tightly it hurts. But you’re so desperate to come, to feel what it’ll do to him, that you don’t stop.

“Come here,” he murmurs, hands around your waist, pulling you down so your lips are nearly touching. “Stay close to me.”

“Oh, fuck, oh-” The warmth of his body so close to yours, your hands bracing themselves on his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, all coupled with one vicious rut of his hips has you right there. Joel tilts your head back just enough so you’re forced to look directly at him – and then you come undone.

You want to close your eyes, turn your head, but you’ve got nowhere to go, and he’s right in front of you. Joel’s touch slides up your back, draws you even closer, and you ride out your third orgasm of the night while pressed entirely against his chest, forced to be vulnerable in a way you’ve never been with anyone before. “So good, baby, so good. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me,” he praises you through it, works you through it, until you’re all but melted in his arms, and he still hasn’t pulled his eyes away.

Utterly spent, you know, distantly, somewhere, that he has to come. However, Joel takes over, flips you both so you’re underneath him, and presses himself deep into the cradle of your pelvis. He’s heavy on top of you, but the weight is somehow soothing.

“I thought about you,” you murmur, hoping it’ll help. His jaw is set, solely focused on his own release. “How good you’d feel.”

“Fuck, really?” he grunts. “I-I- did too.”

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling flush at the admission. “I thought about….letting y-you use me.”

Joel groans your name, curses loudly, ruts into you even harder. You can feel him throbbing, so fucking close, and you arch yourself up to meet him, pleasure already building again, even though you thought it wasn’t possible.

“It’s so much better, Joel, you’re so much better–”

Than I imagined. But you don’t have to finish the thought. The idea of you, thinking of him, seems to be enough as it is, and you feel him pulsing, warmth blooming and spreading out as he groans, throws his head back and spills himself impossibly deep inside you. If you weren’t utterly spent, the feeling of him coming – and nothing between you, probably would have set you off again. For now, it’s enough.

His whole body goes limp as he relaxes his arms from where they’re braced on either side of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a few, haggard breaths once it’s over, and then a deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. “Fuck, baby.”

You rub his shoulder lightly to soothe him, and his lips find the underside of your jaw, kissing lightly his beard scratching your cheeks. For an undetermined amount of time, he remains there. Normally, you’d probably check his watch, but you’ve noticed that the one he always wears is broken, and really….you feel content.

Finally, Joel pulls away, cursing under his breath and withdrawing from you. He runs his hand through his hair, and flops on his back by your side, and you feel horribly empty. After he’s cupped your cheek, turning you gently to look at him – he gives you a tender, affectionate smile.

It hits you like a freight train.

He was not the type of man you dated. The men you dated liked to slap, choke, withhold. That had always been what you’d gotten off to. The more frenzied, the more impersonal – the better. That wasn’t to say Joel hadn’t been passionate. But you’d never experienced anything like this before.

You tear away from his gaze, focus on the ceiling. Heart pounding, threatening to break through your ribs, you feel your mouth dry up, your eyes burn and fuck – you’re about to cry. Try to turn yourself away from him, but he sees it.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just uh-” your voice catches on the lump forming in the back of your throat and cracks audibly, raw.

“Hey– ” you hear the mattress shift, he’s moving closer, and you start to scramble. You’ve gotta leave. Get to the bathroom, compose yourself. “Where are you goin?”

“Joel, I just need to-” but his hand circles your wrist, and you don’t have the power to resist him. The bones of his hand press firmly in your cheek, turning your head so you have to look at him. There are tears in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Up close you can see that his eyes aren’t brown – they’re hazel. Mesmerizing, long lashes – gold and green rimming his irises. How had you not noticed that before?

“No, no not at all it was just…” you’re talking so fast, not even sure where you’re going with the sentence. “I’m sorry, I liked it I just-I don’t know,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you cover your face. You don’t want to feel this way with him here. “I’m not used to-”

Joel, who has never seen you at a loss for words, frowns, draws you against him. “Come here.”

“It’s okay,” he lets you press your face just below his jaw. He’s being so soft, it makes everything that much worse. Tears slip down your cheeks, landing on his skin. He strokes your hair, holds you so tightly, firmly, "It was intense, huh?”

You want to resent the way he’s speaking to you – like you’re a child who fell off her bike and skinned her knee, and not a grown ass woman realizing how disconnected she’s felt with every other partner until now. But unfortunately, it’s kind of working. You murmur an affirmation in response. ”I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he promises.

He holds you until the tide of emotion swells, settles, lips against your temple, his fingertips tracing up and down your spine, and gives you the time to compose yourself.

“That was really nice, I promise,” you say, eventually. And then, because he’s been so gracious, you’re honest. “It’s just been…a long time…” Forever, really. “Since I felt…”

“I know,” Joel nods. “Me too. It’s alright.”

“Yeah,” you bob your head. He holds your face reverently, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss before tucking you back against his chest. You close your eyes, nestle against him. He strokes your hair while you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next thing you know, you’re being gently shaken awake. Somehow, you’d fallen asleep.

“Hey, baby,” Joel murmurs softly.

“Mmm?” you groan in response, exhaustion clinging to your limbs.

“I’m sorry, I gotta get going.”

You scoff into his neck and make a noise of protest, still not entirely roused, he’d woken you too delicately. When he speaks, his lips brush against your forehead, hands still tracing up and down the lines of your body and making you shiver. “I told Sarah and Tommy I’d be home by midnight.”

“Right,” you mutter, finding the strength to push yourself off of him and stretch. Joel sits up, very tentatively releasing you from his grip.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, I can see myself out.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “No, please. Do you need anything?”

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” you point towards the ensuite.

Joel collects his discarded clothes off the bed, then the floor, and disappears. You hear the sink running, watch the shuffling shadows he casts in the crack below the door. While he’s doing that, you slip into your robe and run your fingers through your hair, taking in the disheveled state of your bed, before deciding to clean up in the extra bathroom down the hall.

On your way back, you run into Joel, who looks better than ever, tanned skin glowing, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

“This was nice. I had a really good time.”

“Me too.”

“Will you…” he trails off, rubs his jaw. “Will you be okay? I don’t want to-”

“I’m fine,” you say, dismissively. “I just had a moment.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.” Joel studies you carefully, and you’re prompted to continue. “I promise. Joel. This was nice.”

“It was,” he grins. “I’d like to see you again.”

“Me too,” you don’t even think before you answer, despite everything. It surprises you, how willing you suddenly are.

“Good.” He kisses you, slow and lingering. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Okay.”

part vi

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow

1K notes · View notes

gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

Text

02/02/2024 Daily Recap

TLDR; SaveOFMDCrew Tumblr Updates; How To Help; Twitter Hashtags; Daily Lists; Reminders: Appreciation Events; Live Rewatch OFMD Party with Q+; Operation Auxiliary Wardrobe; Cast & Crew Sightings; New Watch Partys; Actually reasonable Articles; Stats; Petition Status; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

= Save OFMD Crew Tumblr Up =

The SaveOFMDCrew Tumblr is finally up and running! Due to some weirdness with accounts they'll be under @saveofmdcrewmates as opposed to the regular name. This will have the same news as the other platforms so feel free to give them a follow.

== How To Help ==

Twitter folks: looks like @SaveOFMDCrew as well as several other people who've been leading the charge on twitter wanted to remind everyone on when to use what hashtags. Apparently there's been some cross pollination and they wanted to try and clear it up. Thank you to @havethisonelife for summarising.

Haterade Posts:

#OhBloysHeMad , #TheNumbersWereThere, #FinishOurStories Avoid: #DontStreamOnMax

When Advertising ourselves:

#SaveOFMD #AdoptOurCrew

Horny Posts:

No tags (Edit: @SaveOFMDCrew said it was ok to use #OurFlagMeansDeath on horny posts, just no other tags).

Suggestions for How to Help

Looking for ways to help? There are still daily ideas for you here: How To Help Save OFMD Task List - US How to Help Save OFMD Task List - Outside US

==Reminders!==

Cast Appreciation Events!

Tomorrow is Day of Damien! A day to shower Damien Gerard (Father Teach) with support and kindness for all he's done for our fandom! He has been hitting #SaveOFMD events pretty hard trying to support us!

When to start: Saturday February 3rd, 6 AM CST, 7 AM ET, 4 AM PT, 12 PM GMT Hashtags: #DayOfDamien

His Social Media Accounts:

Linktree (has his cashapp, etc) / Instagram / Twitter / Twitch / Tiktok

== Live - Rewatch Party with Q+! ==

This rewatch party is particularly important because the crew is really trying to get people hyped for the BBC launch of s2 on Feb 5. Everyone is hoping that if the s2 launch in the UK shows huge interest it'll be a huge boon for the potential for s3 with the networks.

Sunday Feb 4, 2 PM GMT / 9 AM ET / 6 AM PT

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurFlagMeansRewatch

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

#OurFlagBBC

=Operation Auxiliary Wardrobe=

Do you do applique, crochet, cross stitch, embroidery, knitting, needle felt or any other textile-based OFMD Art? Wanna join a fun group of participants? Starting next week there will be a recruiting drive for a new fabric+thread project mid-month if people are interested! If you want to jump in now you can message @ForceMonument on twitter, otherwise other avenues will be opened sometime in the coming weeks!

=Cast & Crew Sightings =

This is from 01/26/2024 but I missed it and I feel like it needs to be shared. Dominic Burgess being a goofball badass as Jeffrey Fettering singing a 18th century version of the Friends theme song. <3 (Apologies for the quality of the video, I had to record it off my screen so people didn't have to go to Twitter). Twitter Post.

Wee John Wednesdays Mondays are back!

Mon 5th Feb, 10.30pm on Kristian Nairn's Instagram

=NEW WATCH PARTIES =

You can see a running list of current/upcoming watch parties here.

Thank you @libbyroseitm for the new Watch Party!

Uncle Season 1 watch party on i-player. Thurs 15th + Fri 16th Feb (GMT - 8 PM , ET - 3PM, PST - 12 PM)

Catered specifically for the UK crew, but we'd be thrilled for anyone else using VPN's to join in too! Here's an article on how to join via VPN

WatchParty Hashtags:

#ForTheNewUncle

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Articles ==

Finally! The Q+ Article is wonderful and very uplifting.

Our Flag Means Death: Why It Deserves to Find a New Harbor

The 10 best TV shows to watch this week, from Mr and Mrs Smith to One Day

Hairy Bikers Go West, Death In Paradise and Wheel of Fortune: TV highlights this week

The Uncertain Fate of “Our Flag Means Death” Season 3: A Closer Look

Every show canceled so far in 2024

Netflix adds one of ‘the best shows of 2022’ after it was dropped by HBO Max

== STATS ==

Thanks to @Seven_Sugars over on twitter for this info and analysis.

Also, as always, more fun stats from @meowzawowza on twitter from the Netherlands.

== Petition Status ==

Almost to 84K signatures friends!

== Morale ==

I know we're ending day 24 of being the Gravy Basket. It's been a lonnnnng several weeks. We haven't heard from chaos dad in around a week now, so it may seem again like things are slowing down again. As several folks have mentioned before, not every day can be ground breaking, but seeing everyone in the community getting together, having fun with watch parties, discussing ofmd meta, making new art and fanfiction, it feels like the momentum is still there. We often don't see many updates on the weekend so take this time to relax, take a break, maybe do the rewatch party if you have time on Sunday. I did want to bring up, this article on The Tourist is cool because it highlights that HBOMax has cancelled some very highly rated shows in the past and Netflix has picked up on them-- and while we didn't see anything from the 2024 Netflix announcements (as @poison-into-positivity mentioned, even if it was picked up it wouldn't be for 2024) that doesn't mean it's not still a possibility. So don't give up hope. It's going to take some time to get through to the networks, and we'll keep keeping at it.

If you are feeling down or concerned, be sure to reach out to your fellow crew, we're all here for you.

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. You are so incredibly strong, do you know that? No matter what's going on in your life, you're still here. Every single day you get back up, and you keep going. That is incredibly powerful, and incredibly strong, and don't let anyone tell you any different. Do you think our buddy Rhys let's anyone tell him he's not the baddest ass mf on the planet? Nope.

If all you did today was get out of bed, or take a shower, or walk your dog, and nothing else, you kicked today's ass. If you wrote fanfiction, or watched a tv show, you kicked today's ass. They say that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and while I see where that phrase is coming from I like to think of it a bit differently. What doesn't kill you, gives you a glimpse of just how strong you already were. You are the reason you are kind, you are the reason you are strong, you are the reason you continue to grow. You. Outside forces can help shape you, but you have always been strong even when you have felt your weakest, it's just not always easy to see. That strength is so important, and so is your need to rest. Remember to take a break from all the stressors of your life, whether that be a shower, or a 5 minute walk, or a day or a week away from the internet, whatever works for you. Even the strongest bridge in the world can break when there's too much weight on it. That doesn't mean the bridge is any less strong, it means something extremely heavy pushed it past its limits. Anyway, enough of my ramblings, just please know, everyone out here in the crew are so incredibly proud of you, we're rooting for you, and we're so very grateful you're still here with us.

===================================

Speaking of resting....Reminder! No recap for 02/03/2024 unless someone else wants to do one! Please feel free to, obviously! I will be off drinking after taking a dip in some hotsprings and then watching OFMD with two friends who have yet to see it. So if I show up lurking and drunk-tumblr you all, I sincerely apologize, but I hope if I do that drunk Abby is at least amusing. Love yall <3

===================================

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

If you wanna see someone else other than these two in these gifs from OFMD let me know, we can switch it up a bit.

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #renew as a crew #edward teach #save ofmd #rhys darby #blackbonnet #save our flag means death #Taika Waititi #adopt our crew #ofmd renewal #renew our flag means death

127 notes · View notes

koulakoukoula2003 · 2 years

Text

Overwhelmed (Yandere!Levi Ackerman x Reader) Pt. 1

Pairing: Yandere!Levi Ackerman x Reader Genre: Yandere!Levi, yandere themes, so much smutty smut TW: NSFW, MDNI, ROUGH SEX, possibly babytrapping LMFAO (idk we'll see in the sequel), MAJOR WARNINGS FOR DUBCON, uhm yandere behaviour, reader has low self-esteem but don't we all, creampie, vaginal sex, Levi fucks you like an animal against his desk basically, + Levi's obsessed with you uwu + DARK INNER MONOLOGUE OK? A/N: IDK WHAT THIS IS I JUST KNOW THAT I'M HORNY LMFAO pls heed the warnings and uh pls enjoy (will probably get a part 2 if you guys beg for it) Part 1 >>> Part 2 >>> Part 3

There's a difference between wanting someone and loving someone. Love and obsession are two entirely different things. For you and your Captain, it started innocent.

He had almost fooled you that he loved you. You were convinced he did, and how could you not? When he jumped in to save you from every reckless move, every hopeless attack you made against titans that you wouldn't stand a chance against.

How he punished you afterward. After getting back from such expeditions, he'd make sure to get it through your thick head that you're his. You're all his and you have no right to throw yourself in death's way while you belonged to him.

You were such a pretty thing. Always so willing. So pliant and submissive and bending to his will without any effort on his part.

And here you were now, his hot breath fanned to your ear, his cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, and his arms around you. You were utterly naked, he stripped you off your clothes the second you walked into his office after he called for you. And now you were here, back against his chest, his rapid breaths on your ear as he fucked you like a dog on a rut. Cock pressing so deep in that position it had your eyes watering. Pretty tears ran down your cheeks but he licked them away.

He always tasted your tears. There was something so salty and sweet about them. There was something so melodious about your sounds. Sounds of pain, sounds of pleasure, the screams of you being overwhelmed by him. He wrapped a hand around your throat, forcing your head back against his shoulder. His cock was hitting painfully against your cervix but the fast rubs on your clit had you stuck on the thin line between pleasure and pain. You didn't mind. You'd take anything he gave you.

"You're mine." He growled against your ear. His fingers tightened around your throat. His thrusts were fast and animalistic. There was nothing normal about the way he was handling you. He was rough, fucking your hole like fleshlight, biting on the back of your shoulder till he was tearing your skin between his teeth. "You're all mine, understand?!"

His thrusts were relentless. There was no way you could respond while he was fucking you like an animal. His fingers rubbed your clit furiously and you threw your head back. You screamed at the top of your lungs and he didn't even make an effort to stop you. He wanted the entire HQ to hear you. He wanted everyone to know you were his bitch. You were his fuckdoll, his pretty little girl. His willing fucktoy, always ready to drop on your knees to please him.

You came so hard. The forced orgasm took a toll on your body. It had you slamming back down on his desk. Your erratic breaths fanned the smooth surface of the wooden furniture. You were utterly naked, but he was still fully clothed. He hadn't even taken his black suit jacket off.

He stopped thrusting. Still buried to the hilt inside of you, cock throbbing so deep, you had caught a glimpse of it bulging in your stomach more than once tonight. Your legs shook. You would have collapsed on the floor if it wasn't for his desk.

A searing spank laid across your already reddened buttcheeks and you cried out. The palm of his hand was so beautifully imprinted on your skin in deep red. Idly he wondered how much more perfect it'd be if instead of red, it was a deep purple. How many spanks would that take? He would definitely try it one day. But maybe not today. You were close to your limits. He coaxed you into five orgasms already. Your pretty pussy was pink and used and your naked body was covered in a thin sheet of sweat. His own sweat dripped from his raven bangs.

He finally released the knot of his ascot from around his neck. He hadn't even noticed it was bothering him until now. He finally took off his jacket, tossing it aside on a chair. He balled up the white fabric of the ascot and he forced it inside your mouth, restricting your sounds, your fast breathing.

He leaned down, still wearing his white shirt. His chest met your back and he kissed all over the purple bruises he had left on your shoulders with his teeth. He wrapped his arm around you, feeling himself in your belly and then slipping down. You were so sensitive, a single swipe of his fingers on your clit had you mewling against the cloth forced in your mouth.

"So wet..." he groaned in your ear. He caught your hair, pulling them out of your face, to reveal your pretty eyes. Beautiful tears had left trails on your cheeks. He kissed them away and you melted.

No matter how hard he used you, you loved it. Every time he touched you, kissed you, held you, you were melting. You knew you were instantly going to forgive everything he did to you because your heart ached for him. You loved him.

But you had no idea what he felt for you. You just knew he went mad without you. One time, he hadn't seen you for an entire day and he almost choked to death two cadets whilst looking for you. Maybe he didn't love you. Maybe he was just obsessed with you.

That was good enough for a nobody like you.

You tried to speak his name but the cloth inside your mouth was muffling you. He pulled it out and you coughed. You breathed hard and your hand struggled to reach back for him.

"Levi..." it came so desperate and pathetic and needy. His cock twitched inside of you. Your hand finally managed to reach for his hair, burying your fingers into them, bringing him down to you closer.

Closer still, please.

"What is it, y/n? Use your words." His voice was deep and breathless and so very soothing, it made your chest tingle.

"Need you..." you licked your lips "...'m yours. I'm all yours, I love you s' much, kiss me please..."

Fuck, you had no idea what you were doing to him when you said things like that. You loved him? You really did? After treating you like this? Was there really someone in his life who could love a bastard like him? An ugly, ruthless midget who lacked all meaning of gentleness and tenderness? Who had no idea how to handle you? How to love you back? Everyone he ever loved, died on him so fast, were you going to be one of them?

No, he wasn't going to tell you he loved you. He was never going to say it because one moment he might say it and the next you're going to die and he would've lost everything.

So, no, he wasn't going to love you. He wasn't going to make love to you because he didn't even know how. Sex was a mere need for him. A disgusting, primal need that he couldn't get rid of and he wished he could. But you satisfied all his needs. You took everything he gave you. Spanking, bondage, pain, degradation. You satisfied that dark, sadistic side of him and you were always so willing to let him push you to your limits.

You had seen that side of him that would have made anyone else run away, screaming in terror, but instead, you even loved him for it.

You were capable of loving him.

He pulled out of you and he flipped you around pulling you off the desk. Your legs almost gave up on you and you almost crushed on the floor but he caught you. He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up bridal style with impressive ease. He was so strong. Always so strong, he could manhandle you and break your body in two before you'd even have the chance to scream for help.

Maybe you'd even just let him.

He took you to his bed and lied you down and took off his shirt and the annoying pants.

He climbed back on top of you, easing his cock inside you again and you gasped. He took your lips in his own and that's when he started fucking you and kissing you like he loved you. He didn't say a word though. There was never any confession. It was just that sloppy kiss that you could have never guessed a clean freak like your Captain would engage in.

You could taste the afternoon tea he had on his tongue. You could smell him, something herbal and detergents and the cleanliness of his impossibly clean bedsheets. You buried your fingers in his sweaty hair and you clutched on him. So desperate and needy.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you.

He began thrusting again. He didn't even start slow. Slow and intimate sex was something he didn't know how to do. You would have to show him one day if he let you, but for now, you let him fuck you to oblivion while he swallowed your screams off your lips.

His hips slammed against yours and he pulled your legs to his shoulders, forcing you into a mating press. He folded your entire body in half, getting deeper, threatening to break deep into your womb. You screamed and shut your eyes and threw your head back and your entire body shook.

"Just a little more..." He panted into your chest, biting down on your skin. His thrusts, relentless. "...take it for me, y/n, take it... You're mine... all mine..."

He was babbling now incoherently and you knew he was close. Thrusts wild and uneven and cock hitting so deep you could feel him in your throat. His hand dropped down on your clit and you came in an instant. You didn't even get the time to warn him. You screamed and squirted all over his cock and his eyes widened.

"Fuck!" It only urged him to fuck you harder and harder until he came inside you.

Your belly felt so warm and bloated. He fucked you through it, making sure you didn't waste a single drop. You would look so beautiful all stuffed with his kids. His wife. His one and only. No one else for him. He loved you so madly.

He wanted you to abandon everything for him. He wanted you to resign as a soldier. He wanted you to get you a home, give you a family, keep you safe there.

He pulled his face from your neck, realising you had passed out. Your body limp beneath him. Your hands limp around him. Instinctively he checked for your pulse but you were breathing rhythmically. You were alive. You were okay.

He sighed in relief and kissed your parted lips. He licked clean that drop of spit that had started to roll down your lips. He kissed you all over.

He cleaned you and groomed you like a pup. He settled you properly on the bed, in the nightgown you kept around his quarters for nights like this.

He lied beside you and held you all night, unable to fall asleep. He could never sleep when you were sleeping beside him. He watched you because you were so beautiful. He had paperwork to take care of but he found himself unable to move.

You were so beautiful, all he did was stare at you while you slept. Others would've been terrified at the thought of being stared at, but not you. Not you. You were his.

He was already planning of forging a resignation paper. He had learned your handwriting, your signature. He had learned everything about you.

It was for the best. He'd keep you safe that way. You were the only one he had left.

His arms tightened around you impossibly and he buried his face in your hair shutting his eyes, drawing in your scent.

He was going to keep you safe.

1K notes · View notes

first-edition · 1 year

Text

Car Clean-up

Spencer reid x reader

Smut-mas Day1

Spencer has been on edge about something for the whole day, and on the drive home you finally realize what it is that bothering him.

CW- Oral Male !recviing, oral sex, smut, cussing, cum swallowing , Sub! Spencer, dorm! Reader, 18+ language and themes

Spencers leg bounces up and down as he bites the tip of his pen starring off into space.

“Spence?” You ask your boyfriend as he sits at his desk in the FBI bullpen. He doesn’t answer you just continues starring.

You wave your hand in front of his face as he snaps out if his trance.

“you alright hon?” You ask.

“Hmm..yeah sorry.” “I don’t think you blinked for 3 minutes kid.” Morgan says laughing.

“no-no sorry i was thinking.” He replies.

“about?” You say sitting of the side of the of his desk crossing your legs your thighs squishing together, your tight pencil skirt ridding up ever so slightly.

“nothing.” Spencer asks too fast to be real.

“Okay everyone go home its 11 pm merry christmas.” Hotch says you smile and nod to him. you sigh hopping off the desk walking back to yours and grabbing you jacket as its cold as hell outside.

Jj and Emily have already left at this point.

“what are you two doing tonight?” Morgan asks rating his eyes brow. You roll your eyes knowing what he’s hinting at.

“Dont worry i’ll tell you exactly what were doing.” You say Morgan chuckles nodding waiting for answer.

“none of your business.” You say he chuckles shaking his head.

“come on Spence.” You say holding out your hand. He pulls his satule around his shoulders and takes your hand in his. “Bye Morgan.” You say waving with your other as you and Spencer enter the elevator. He smiles waving back as the doors close. “what do you feel like tonight? I was gonna cook if we got home earlier but now i just wanna go out and get something.” You reply as you take off your heel becoming noticeably shorter. You hold ont his arm for stability as you do so.

He dosnt answer you making you confused is he mad at you, is he annoyed? He’s been acting this way all day. You sigh.

“okay then i’ll pick.” You say

Finally walking to the car you get in the passenger seat as he gets in the drivers. And pulls out of the parking lot on the road to home.

halfway through the drive you cant help it but ask what’s wrong. “Spencer? Are you okay? I mean really okay because you kinda been on edge all day. I know this case we finished was hard but…i-if I did anything today to make you mad or annoyed im sor-” “its not you” he cuts you off.

“It’s not you it’s me…Really your pull that card out of the deck..so it was something i did..” you say crossing your arms.

“NO-Yes..No..shit.” He says you feel a limb in your throat.

“what then…Im sorry if i hurt you…” you trail off with a screech of the tires he pulls over the car and takes you face in in his hands holding either side of your head squishing your cheeks and he kisses your lips.

after pulling away. He replies.

“Im in love with you!” He says you giggle nodding. “Well, i know that. I love you too.” You say you’ve been together for 2 years its not the first time he’s said it.

“what’s wrong.” You say your cheeks still squished. His cheek turn pink.

“its can wait for home.” He says. Turning away from you. You frown and then it clicks. He wants you. Hes wanted you all day! Its been 2 months since you’ve last had sex with your wonderful boyfriend. Not because you dont want to but because case work got in the way. And your both come home too tired to function. Morning sex was off the table bc of how early you two have to get up.

You form a grinch like smile, squinting your eyes. “you’re horny arnt you spencer…” you say leanIng into him. He’s never really been good at telling you that he wants you. although its fairly easy to tell when he does. “that’s what you were thinking about at your desk hmm…The feeling of my body under your hands…my lips on yours…of bettter, wrapping around your-”

“YES YES IM SORRY!” He blurts out. You chuckle glancing down noticing the tent in his pants just from you mentioning a few little things.

You look up at him through your lashes your eyes dark with lust now having the best idea.

You move your hand to his chest slowly moving it down his middle.

“im sorry i made you wait so long baby.” You reply kissing his cheek.

“y-y/n what are you-Ngh.” He groans as your hand rubs over the bulge eventually unzipping his pants and freeing his hardened cock. He hisses at the cold air around it but its subdued by your warm hand. Thank god for your tinted windows and blizzard it weather it just looks like you two got stuck on the side of the road from the snow.

“f-fuck..” he gasps as you stroke his shaft with your hand as he shifts his hips upwards into you.

you kisses his neck unbuttoning the first few buttons getting more of his skin.

“When we get home…if your good that is…i’ll let you fuck me raw.” You say into his ear before moving down and wrapping your mouth around him.

“F-fu-shit!” He gasps twitching in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip, as you suck and bob your head. You move your hair out of the way.

He chuckles breathily and pulls your hair back wrapping your long locks around his hand holding it up for you. His hips buck up into you the feeling of your warm mouth around him getting to be too much just after a few minutes.

“Fuck y/n-!” He moans out his head falling back to the seat as you deep throat him swallowing him. Then popping off him and doing it again.

He moans as you feel him pulse in your mouth this time cumming. You make sure to swallow him all making sure not to make a mess. He releasing his hold from your hair. You release him from your mouth smiling as his chest heaves. He looks down at you pulling your face to his kissing you. You kiss him back.

You pull away sitting back up into the seat pulling your hair up in a rubber band around your wrist.

“So home?” You ask looking at him. He nods tucking himself back in his pants and speeds off.

#spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut

1K notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 11 months

Text

𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟠

She is so pretty, he is so fine!

♡ 𓃗 ♡

Pre! Outbreak Joel x horseback riding instructor f!reader

A/N: This is the longest chapter of blue jeans I have written thus far and my god, I want to be in a throuple with them so bad 😭 they are so unbelievably cute and my poor little heart is just BURSTING with love 🫶🏻

~word count: 6.5k~

Summary: Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

Warnings: soft! Joel, shy! Joel, horny!awkward!Joel, fluff, flirting, slow burn, feeling flustered, sexual tension, brief horny thoughts, bantering, teasing, some very very light angst, talk of feelings, fears, implied feelings of anxiety, so much fluff, comforting themes, Joel gets a little drunk at the end and feels bad about it, lots of kissing, affection, no use of (y/n), (+18) minors dni !

blue jeans playlist:

Song used in this chapter:

“Ain’t No Man” by the Avett Brothers

Austin, Texas

“So, not only did this man, I’m sorry, your Texas tall glass of water, pick you fucking wild flowers, take you to a drive in, act like a complete gentleman the entire night, he turned down sleeping with you after the first date just because he wants to properly date you? Girl, my panties would have been on the FLOOR at that point. Does he have a brother?” Your best friend Ryder was in the round pen with Javi G (who was her favorite out of your boys but she loved them all of course) She was braiding daisies in his silky mane while you were in the main arena, riding Javi P.

The only way Javi P would even think of cooperating with you is if his brother was in close proximity. You also could only ride him bareback with an extremely soft bit. An Eggbutt snaffle bit was one of the gentler bits on the market. This specific bit had a thick mouthpiece which prevented the horse's mouth from being pinched and causing irritation. “When I tell you it was literally the best date I have ever been on, I mean it. Ryder, I was quite literally ready to risk it all for that man. Did I mention the fact that he’s a fantastic kisser?” You spoke with a light giggle as you eased Javi P into a working trot with a soft squeeze. When he responded positively, you leaned over and gave him a light pat on his neck. “He does have a brother. Guarantee he’s just as handsome as Joel. His name is Tommy. Want me to find out if he’s single for you?”

“Oh my god, yes please. Put in the good word for me if he is in fact single. Wait, I just came up with the best idea ever, babe. You should invite Joel and Tommy to the rodeo this weekend! Y’know, so then Tommy can see just how good a cowgirl can ride.” Ryder spoke suggestively as she shot a wink in your direction with a light giggle.

Javi G let out a snort. Humans, man. What fucking weirdos.

You lightly dropped the reins along Javi P’s withers so he could stretch his neck out naturally. “Oh my god, Ryder! You little nasty slut! I mean, you’re right though. Cowgirls can definitely ride. Tell ya what, I’ll let Joel know that you’re interested in his brother, and I’ll invite them to the rodeo. I bet you guys will end up hitting it off super quick babe.”

“You’re the bestest friend a girl could ever dream of having. When are you seeing him again anyway? You guys still do those cute little phone dates and shit?”

You couldn’t help but feel the butterflies bloom in your stomach as you thought about Joel, your Texas tall glass of water. “In a couple hours actually. Sarah has a lesson later this morning and then I’m working a double at the bar tonight. He said he wants to stop on by later while I’m there to see me. He calls me every morning, and every night before he goes to bed. It’s so fucking cute Ry, like he’s so sweet my teeth ache just thinking about it.” You spoke with a dreamy sigh before easing Javi P to a light walk.

“Here we thought chivalry was completely dead and then Joel fucking Miller comes in and proves us all wrong. You guys are disgustingly adorable and I am so happy for you honey, like so so happy.” Ryder was sincere with her words. Your ex nearly made you believe that good men didn’t exist and then Joel, who had only been in your life for a short while now, proved you wrong without even having to try.

“I really didn’t think I was ready to date again, y’know? Joel just makes everything seem so easy. I can’t wait for you to meet him babe, and hopefully you guys can be friends but I’m really not too worried about it.”

“He’s all green flags in my book babe so I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. I’ll be giving him the ‘you hurt her and I will kill you’ talk regardless. I’m sure he’ll be expecting it.” Ryder said with a shrug as she finished braiding the last Daisy into Javi G’s mane. “Now there’s a pretty boy if I ever saw one! Gosh darn, doesn’t he just look so stinking cute?” She talked to him in a baby voice, giving him a big kiss on his velvety nose.

“I can’t picture that man hurting a fly, seriously. Can you imagine if Javi P let me put flowers in his mane? He’d look so handsome!” You eased Javi P into a canter, letting him stretch his legs out. All it took was for you to slightly lean forward along the bareback pad for him to recognize your silent cue to gallop. With a swish of his tail Javi P broke out into a gallop. Despite his cruel treatment during his racing days, this horse loved to run.

“Yeehaw cowgirl!” Ryder enthusiastically yelled from the round pen as Javi P galloped past, kicking up sand along the round pens metal fence.

You gave Javi P all the love and kisses for being such a good boy. You were starting to make some real progress with him and it’s all you could truly hope for. After letting him cool off, Ryder helped you hose him down, give him all the treats before turning him out with Javi G for the rest of the day. It took all of 5 minutes for Javi P to eat every last daisy from his brother's mane before they were happily grazing together.

Before Sarah would arrive for her lesson, you kept yourself busy with the usual barn chores and soon enough, you were hearing Joel’s truck pulling into the parking lot. You could hear Joel and Sarah’s chatter from outside the open barn doors. Joel’s deep, warm laugh sent your heart racing. As soon as they turned the corner, Joel had his arm around Sarah, playfully pulling his kid into a headlock because she had said something jokingly about his age and him being “too” old for you.

“I ain’t too old for her, sweetpea! Did your uncle Tommy say somethin’ about that?” He chuckled as he ruffled her head of curls playfully.

“HEY! Dad, not the hair!” She giggled as she playfully pushed her dad away, giving him a warning look.

“Who’s too old for who?” You chimed in, arms crossed as you were leaning back against Frankie’s stall. A knowing smirk played across your lips.

Joel felt his cheeks immediately heat up. His whole face felt warm to the touch when he saw you casually leaning back against Frankie’s stall. “Oh, hey there darlin’! Sarah here was just messin’ around. Right kiddo?”

“Uh huh. I was just messing around! Oh, shoot! Daaad. We forgot her latte in the car! I’ll go get it!” She shot you a little wink before she slipped out of her dad’s light hold and took off back outside to the truck.

Joel wasted little to no time to make his way over to you. His palms felt a little clammy on his approach and you could tell by his body language alone, he was a little flustered. Once he was close enough, you reached out and gently grabbed his hands, pulling him in close to you. “Joel, you got me another latte?” You playfully scolded him.

“Yeah, I uh–I did. I know you said I didn’t have to but it makes me happy to get you one. It ain’t cost me much. Just a couple bucks and that pretty smile of yours.” He had a small grin tugging on the corner of his lips as he gently played with your fingers between his.

“My pretty smile huh? Why don’t you give me a quick kiss, cowboy. Before Sarah gets back.”

Joel was quick to close the small gap between your bodies, bringing your interlocked hands to rest alongside either side of your head as he slotted his lips between yours. You could feel his small grin against your lips as Frankie had stuck his head out his stall door and was playfully nibbling on Joel’s flannel.

The kiss was short, but sweet and had your toes curling inside the confines of your riding boots. By the time Sarah returned with your latte, you and Joel had already parted from the kiss.

“Were you guys just?—I don’t wanna know!” Sarah said with a light giggle as she handed you the latte.

Joel’s face was the dead giveaway that you were in fact kissing like lovestruck teenagers just a few seconds ago.

“Are you ready to do some more groundwork with Frankie today kiddo? I’ve got a feeling that you’re gonna be able to successfully join up with him today!” You did your best to change the conversation so that Joel’s face wasn’t a consistent shade of beet red.

“Wait, seriously? Yes! I am so ready to do more groundwork with him today!” Sarah spoke with pure excitement as she walked up to Frankie’s stall and gave his velvety nose a nice soft pat.

“Why don’t you get his halter on kiddo and bring him in the round pen, okay?” You took a sip of the latte then, shooting Joel a little wink over the rim of the cup.

Sarah wasted no time to grab Frankie’s halter and leadrope before she was slowly opening up his stall door, wishing him a good morning as she slipped his halter over his head and ears. Frankie already loved this kid so much that he nuzzled his face into her shoulder affectionately. Joel’s heart just about melted when he heard the softest giggle slip past his baby girl's lips and you swore you saw your Texas tall glass of water tear up just the slightest.

He really loved his daughter that much.

Fuck, there goes your heart. Melting in a puddle of sticky sweet molasses and Joel fucking Miller.

Once Sarah had led Frankie into the round pen, you gave her a chance to show you, and Joel, everything that you taught her thus far. You were close by, sitting on top of a mounting block in the far corner of the round pen. Joel was on the outside of the fence, standing close to where you were sitting.

Sarah had no trouble getting Frankie to listen to her when she eased him onto the rail. She remembered the body posture you told her and to only use the long whip as a gentle guide. Frankie of course was the best boy ever. All she had to do was click her tongue a couple times and he broke out into a working trot. The excitement was written across your face when you saw Frankie turning his inside ear towards Sarah, showing her that he was listening to her completely.

After having Frankie trot a few times in one direction, she turned her shoulder inwards, switching the whip to the other hand. This signaled Frankie to change directions which he did flawlessly.

Once he was adequately warmed up, she asked him to canter. It took just a little bit of effort on her part for Frankie to listen to her cue, but she held her ground beautifully. After working him for a little longer, it was time for the join up. Sarah slowly dropped the whip to the ground, taking a deep breath as her shoulders relaxed. She exhaled, turning her shoulder inwards with her back facing Frankie. Her posture was relaxed and she held her hand out to her side.

Frankie had slowed down to a light walk and when he saw his favorite tiny human giving him the okay to relax, he turned his head towards her and slowly walked forward. His ears were facing forward, showing he was focused and listening. His velvet soft nose lightly nudged against her hand, signaling his submission to her. You could see Sarah’s face light up when Frankie had nuzzled her hand and she slowly turned around and gave him a well deserved pat, and kiss on his nose. The join up was completed successfully and as Sarah started to walk towards you and Joel, Frankie was following right behind her.

“Did you guys see that? I did it! He was such a good boy too!” Frankie was lightly nudging her back with his nose. He playfully nibbled on the end of her shirt affectionately.

“You did a great job kiddo! See, wasn’t that so cool? I think we can officially get you in the saddle for your next lesson. How does that sound to you?” You had an equally as big smile as Joel did. He could genuinely tell that you were excited and proud of Sarah and the progress she already had made.

“Wait, really? Can I ride Frankie then? I really like him a lot.” Sarah said with a big smile, giving Frankie a hug with her arms gently wrapping around his furry neck.

“Of course you can! I think you guys are the perfect match for each other. Frankie really likes you too, Sarah. I think you guys are gonna make a great team.” You reached into your pocket, pulled out a carrot and snapped it in half, giving Frankie the first half and handed the other to Sarah so that she could reward him as well.

To Joel, this whole scene playing out in front of him was truly a sight for sore eyes. He was so happy that he had met you, and that you were in his, and Sarah’s life. He hoped that you would be in their lives indefinitely.

After letting Frankie cool down, Sarah gave him a well deserved brush down before she turned him out into the pasture. She was happily sitting alongside the fence as she watched him, Javi G and Javi P, grazing together under the shade of a tree.

You were watching Sarah fondly when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. The slight stubble on Joel’s face tickled your ear as he kissed your cheek. He gently pulled you against his chest, smiling against your soft skin when he felt you relax in his warm embrace. “You really make my daughter happy. This whole experience has my kid feelin’ over the fuckin’ moon. Thank you. I’m so happy that I stumbled upon your website darlin.’” He whispered softly to you.

Your heart was melting all over again into a pile of gooey mush on the floor. This felt like an absolute fairytale. Something that you would see in the movies, or a cheesy T.V show. “I’m really happy that you stumbled upon my website as well, Joel.”

“Lookin’ forward t’seein’ ya later tonight babe. You mind if my brother Tommy accompanies me?”

“Oh, actually that would be perfect! My friend Ryder was actually asking me earlier if your brother was single. She wanted me to put in the good word for her. Y’know, play the wingwoman role and everything.”

“Oh? Well, lucky for your friend, my brother is absolutely on the market. I’ll let him know when I see him later and then you can give him all the details?” Joel gave your waist a light squeeze. He really enjoyed the way you melted into his arms.

“This is the best news I could possibly give her. I will absolutely give Tommy all the details on her. She’s a real catch.”

“Are we about to become matchmakers now darlin’?”

“I think so, cowboy.” you responded with a small grin on your face.

By 8pm the bar was absolutely slammed with locals and a large group of rowdy college students that were home for the summer. You and the other bartenders were barely given a chance to breathe, and by your 100th tequila shot that you poured, you were getting a little tired.

That was until you saw your Texas tall glass of water stride in the bar with his equally as attractive brother. You saw the similarities in Joel and Tommy Miller’s looks, and right away you knew that Ryder was going to be absolutely on the floor.

You watched the way that Joel effortlessly rolled up the sleeves on his flannel, revealing his tan forearms to you. You watched the way that he caught the eyes of multiple women in the bar and the way they looked him up and down, unashamedly. You couldn’t really blame them though. Your Texas tall glass of water was fucking gorgeous, and all yours.

Joel was paying no mind to the eyes wandering over him and he was solely focused on making it to the bartop. He spotted you immediately and Tommy couldn’t help but watch the way his older brother’s eyes light up when he saw you.

It took a bit of light pushing, and ‘excuse me’s’ for the two brothers to make it to the bartop and claim a seat on two empty stools.

“Hello boys. What can I get for ya?” You said with a small grin. You let your gaze fall on Joel as you gave him a little once over just to watch the way his cheeks immediately heated up.

Tommy let out a low wolf whistle as he wrapped his arm around Joel’s shoulder. “Woo Doggy! I’d love to have a tall glass of you sweetheart!” He said with a light chuckle. “Or your friend, if she’s around? Heard she’s got the hots for me!” He winked.

Joel let out a low grumble as he playfully shoved his brother’s arm off of his shoulder. “Please excuse my brother, darlin’. Ma dropped him on his head when he was a baby and he’s turned into a complete fuckin’ imbecile cus’ of it.”

“You gotta stop tellin’ people that Joel! They’re gonna start thinkin’ ma did it on purpose!” Tommy bickered back.

You brought your hand over your mouth to contain your giggles as you watched the two Miller boys bicker. “Oh, my friend is absolutely going to love you Tommy. You guys are gonna get along just fine. Maybe even a little too well. I think you are actually the male version of her.”

“Well, sweet cheeks, if your friend is anythin’ like me, I definitely might fall in love jus’a little. Now, before my brother here rings me up for havin’ no manners, it’s so wonderful to finally meet the pretty bird that has gone and stolen my brother’s heart. It’s a bout’ damn time too!” Tommy reached his hand out over the bartop for you to shake.

“It’s hard not to fall in love with Ryder. She’s a total catch. Gotta say, I knew you were gonna be easy on the eyes, but maybe I picked the wrong Miller brother?” You teased before grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake.

The tips of Joel’s ears had turned red as he glowered at his brother. He might have been just a tad jealous. He knew his brother was a natural flirt, but you were his girl. Joel’s girl. It slipped off his tongue smoothly. His girl.

“Ooooh boy. Don’t go and sayin’ that in front of my brother sweetheart. He gets a lil’ jealous. I’m flattered though. You’re a real peach!” He lightly poked his brother’s cheek with his finger. “Aw, big brother! Don’t go gettin’ all pouty! I know she’s your girl. You ain’t gotta worry bout’ me stealin’ her.”

Joel’s girl.

You were his girl.

Now you were the one feeling slightly flustered when Tommy said that you were Joel’s girl. “Hey, grumpy? I can’t kiss that pout away when I'm on the clock, cowboy. Don’t worry. I know I picked the right Miller brother.”

“You tellin’ me that you can kiss it away when you’re off the clock?” Joel asked with a small grin playing on his lips.

“You bet your ass I can.” You grinned back.

“Alright, if you guys are gonna be gross n’stuff, I need a glass of whiskey stat.” Tommy said teasingly as he lighty pinched his brother’s cheek.

“Two Whiskeys on the rocks?”

“Make mine neat darlin.’” Joel requested.

You poured the Miller brother’s their drinks before you and Tommy engaged in a bit of chatter. You told him about the horses and how well Sarah was doing and he told you about Joel, of course. Tommy was incredibly easy to get along with and your eyes would glance in Joel’s direction every so often to see how he was doing.

Little did you know, Joel appreciated the small gesture more than you even knew.

“So your friend Ryder is a fuckin’ barrel racer? Jesus Christ. I think I just died a lil’ and went to heaven! Hey, big brother? You down to go to a rodeo next weekend?” Tommy glanced at his brother over the rim of his glass.

“A rodeo? Yeah. Sounds like a good time.” Joel responded as he took a large sip of his whiskey.

You found out very quickly that the Miller boys could hold their liquor incredibly well and you were happy to see Joel loosen up a bit and engage in the conversation more. When a new rush of people came in, you left the brothers to their own devices for a period of time.

Tommy dragged his brother over to the pool table, setting it up in no time. “I like her, Joel. She seems like a good one. Better than the rest of em.’ I ain’t just sayin’ this to say it either. You both clearly really like each other. I’m happy to see you happy.”

Joel was lining up for his first shot to break up the formation with the cue ball. “Yeah, she’s..amazin’ i’m afraid i’m gonna screw the whole thing up though Tommy. Like i’ll say the wrong thing or fuck, i’ll just get too in my head and end up pushin’ her away or somethin.’” He took the shot, watching as the balls broke apart on the pool table.

“Joel, you can’t be thinkin’ about that shit, okay? I don’t think she’s gonna judge you for your past. Why would she? She’s not like the other girls you’ve been with, man. She seems like a ball of sunshine compared to the rest of ‘em. If it’s botherin’ you this much, just be honest and tell her. She can’t fault you for bein’ honest.”

Joel let out a deep sigh before he finished off his glass of whiskey. He was definitely starting to feel a buzz creeping on now. “I don’t think she wants to hear my sob story about how Sarah’s mom left us when she was just a fuckin’ toddler, and I definitely don’t think she wants to hear about how sad my dating life has been because of it.”

“If you’re not ready to tell her about Sarah’s mom, you don’t have to jump right into that necessarily. Just be open about your feelings Joel. You told me she hasn’t had the best luck with dating either. This could be a conversation that you both are able to relate to.”

“So you don’t think its goin’ to turn her off if I tell her i’m still in like this..adjustment period?” He looked across the pool table at his brother.

“No. I literally don’t think you could possibly turn that girl off Joel. She’s got the hots for you, and only you. Just don’t try and force the convo, okay? Let it happen naturally.”

“I won’t force the topic on her. I promise.” Joel nodded.

“There’s my soft teddy bear big brother!”

“I fuckin’ hate you.” Joel said with a deep chuckle.

“Shuddp. You love me!”

Once most of the college kids had cleared out, and the bar was less packed, Joel and Tommy were able to rejoin you at the bar top. You had heard this specific song playing through the bar speakers about a 100+ times. It was a song that could get any crowd going. With that smooth country rhythm and head bopping beat. ‘There Ain’t No Man’ by The Avett Brothers.

Your head was already bopping to the beat as you hummed the lyrics under your breath, swaying your hips a little as you finished making another Cowboy Margarita, a new menu item. Joel was watching the way the music enveloped you and he couldn’t help but get drawn into it as well as he bobbed his head, and tapped his boot on the floor below him.

“I'm gonna fall hard, yeah, I know I am when the crowds crack up, I laugh with them.”

Joel, Tommy, and the rest of the bar crowd had sung along.

“There ain't no man can save me.

There ain't no man can enslave me.

Ain't no man, a man that can change the shape my soul is in.

There ain't nobody here.

Who can cause me pain or raise my fear.

'Cause I got only love to share.

If you're looking for a truth, I'm proof you'll find it there.”

“You say you look funny, I say you're a star.

I say you're whatever you think you are.

Watch the naysayers fall right in line.

If we believe it they'll say,”

"She is so pretty, he is so fine!" You and Joel had leaned in close together, singing the lyrics together. You were close enough that your noses were nearly touching.

“Oh just fuckin’ kiss her!” One of your local townies yelled from the end of the bar top.

Before Joel could even utter a response back, you were gently grabbing his jaw between your fingers and kissing him sweetly.

Every single person in the bar had let out a loud cheer when you and Joel had kissed, and you both were laughing in the kiss, noses bumping lightly as your fingers gently brushed against the stubble along his jaw.

“Guess you kissed my pout away on the clock after all darlin.” Joel chuckled warmly against your lips. You could taste the whiskey on his tongue.

“Keep kissing me cowboy.” you mumbled against his lips, pulling him in closer.

It was 1a.m by the time that the bar was beginning to close down for the night. Whatever stragglers were left were gonna have to get the hell out soon because you were ready to head home and knock the fuck out. “HEY! LISTEN UP! If you don’t work here, sleep here, fuck somebody that works here, finish your drinks, close your tab out, tip 20% and go the fuck home!”

Joel and Tommy were already getting ready to close their tabs out when you had stopped them. “You guys don’t have to leave. I just have to say that every closing shift. It’s become a tradition around here.” You noticed the way Joel’s cheeks heated up as soon as you said “fuck somebody that works here.”

“Man, I knew you were one rad chick!” Tommy laughed and gave his brother a little squeeze. “You got my brother out here feelin’ speechless darlin!’”

“You say that every closin’ shift?” Joel asked curiously as he playfully swatted at his brother.

“Mhm. You’re in luck, cowboy. You fall into one of those categories.”

“But we–” Joel was cut off by his brother, shushing him with a finger over his lips.

“Alright, kids. Imma head home! This has been such a fun time, and i’m really lookin’ forward to seein’ more of ya sweet cheeks! You tell that friend of yours that I'm lookin’ forward to meetin’ her next weekend. Can you make sure my brother gets home safely? I know he’s gonna wanna spend some extra time with his girl.” He shot you a wink before paying out the tab, leaving you a fat tip before slipping off the leather stool.

You waved goodbye to Tommy as he left the bar and you quickly started to wipe down the counter and place the various bottles back on the shelves. Joel had waited till it was just the two of you left in the bar before he slipped off his own stool. His head was slightly spinning and it was a good thing that he didn’t drive. “Can I uh–help ya with anythin’ darlin?’”

You looked over at your Texas tall glass of water with a small grin on your lips as you finished wiping down the bartop. “Nah. I’m just about finished up here and then I can drive you home.”

Joel had slipped around the bartop as he approached you. As soon as you were within his reach, he snaked his arms around your waist, slowly backing you up into the counter with ease. “Well, in that case..” he whispered as you brought your arms up around his neck, playing with the soft curls on the nape of his neck.

“Did you have a good time tonight Joel? I’m really happy that you came out to see me. Made my shift a hell of a lot more fun.”

Joel tightened his grip around your waist as he let his thumbs dip into the waistband of your shorts, pulling you in closer to him. His nose was lightly brushing against yours as he dipped his head down. “I had a wonderful time with you tonight, baby. I hope my brother wasn’t too much of a nuisance.”

Your breath had slightly hitched in your throat when Joel had yanked you in closer by the belt loops of your shorts and your lips brushed against his lightly. “Less talking, more kissing please.” You whispered against his lips.

“Someone is awfully eager.” Joel chuckled lightly as he properly kissed you. It wasn’t long before he was gently grasping the back of your thighs and lifting you up onto the cool countertop. He drank in the soft gasp that slipped past your lips as he kissed you deeper, licking your bottom lip lightly before your lips parted for him and he explored your mouth expertly with his tongue.

Time seemed to completely stop from the way Joel was kissing you. You could tell that with each swipe of his tongue, he was gaining more confidence. Your senses were completely overtaken by him. His cologne, the whiskey lingering on his tongue. The way his fingers were tightly gripping your hips.

A light moan had slipped its way past your lips and the sound seemed to urge Joel to continue, and possibly throw all rational thoughts out the fucking window. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and these shorts your wearin’ are drivin’ me up a fuckin’ wall.” He rasped, giving your hips a firm squeeze.

“Why don’t you take them off, cowboy.” You whispered, kissing him deeper as you lightly tugged on the roots of his hair.

Joel let out a low groan as he felt his own head begin to spin. “Darlin’ you can’t be sayin’ stuff to me like that. You can’t be doin’ that. I’m about ready to rip these off ya, but I'm a little drunk. I don’t wanna do anythin’ when i’m under the influence. That ain’t right to you.” He whispered.

“I hope I can meet your mom one of these days just so I can tell her thank you for raising such a fucking wonderful gentleman.” You broke the kiss momentarily for a breath of air.

“I think we can arrange that baby.” Joel lightly rested his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering open as he looked down into yours.

You gently cupped his jaw in your hands, kissing him a few more times as you nuzzled your nose against his. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, take me home baby.” He chuckled and gave you one more deep kiss before he was gently helping you off the counter. He even fixed your shorts for you a bit as they had hiked up your thighs.

“C’mon lover boy, let's get you home safe.” You grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers together before you finished locking up the bar and brought him out to your car.

Joel was sober enough to give you the directions to his home, but you could tell by his position in the passenger seat that he was definitely a little drunk. You rolled his window down a little so he could get some fresh air. You had to gently shake him awake when you pulled into his driveway. “Joel, honey? Hey, we’re home.”

Joel slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times before he sat up. “Shit. M’sorry darlin’ I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He mumbled.

“It’s alright, Joel. Let's get you inside okay? C’mon cowboy.” You spoke softly to him as you got out of the driver’s seat and walked around to the passenger seat and helped him out of the car.

“Shouldn’t I be the one walkin’ ya to your door?” He mumbled into your shoulder, draping his arm around your waist for support.

“Baby, you’re drunk. It’s okay. I’m gonna make sure that you get into bed safely. Now, where are your keys?” You had gotten him to the front door at this point.

“Back pocket. I’ll get 'em for ya.” He reached into his back pocket with his free hand and pulled out his keys and dropped them into your hand.

Once you had the door open, you helped Joel inside before gently closing the door behind you. Getting Joel up the stairs was a bit of a challenge but he wasn’t complete dead weight. He mumbled into your hair about his bedroom being the first door on the left. Once you had him inside his room, you slowly set him down on the edge of his bed and helped him take his boots off and set them aside.

Joel was watching you with droopy eyes as you unlaced his boots. His body was swaying slightly as his forearms rested along his made up comforter. “M’sorry that you’re havin’ to take care of me like this when you probably just wanna go home and sleep.” He mumbled.

“Joel. It’s okay. I promised Tommy I'd get you home safe. You’re fine, okay?” You looked up at him with a soft expression on your face.

“You’re too good for me darlin’. I don’t deserve you.”

“Joel..What are you talking about? Where is this all coming from?” You rose from your knees, taking a seat next to him on the comforter.

“They all leave me anyway. I never–I can never hold someone down.” He whispered as he looked down at his lap.

“Joel. Hey, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. Okay? I’m not going anywhere.” You reached for his hand, gently interlocking your fingers together and held his hand in his lap. “Listen, I know that you have been out of the dating world for a while, I know you’re adjusting to all of this. I understand where you’re coming from, and I'm here for you.”

Tommy was right. Joel had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear when it came to you. You truly were a ball of wonderful sunshine.

“Thank you for understandin’ where i’m comin’ from. I appreciate it more than you know. I didn’t mean to get in my head like that. I just..I don’t wanna fuck things up.” He admitted quietly.

“Joel, it's okay. We all get in our head over these things sometimes. It happens more than you think. It’s what makes us human, right? Having these feelings and being able to express them in a safe space? You’re a wonderful person, Joel. I can’t imagine you fucking something like this up. I just want you to know that anytime you wanna talk about these things, I will always be here to listen and be there for you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, stroking your thumb across the back of his hand.

“You’re so incredible, you know that? Thank you for just..validating my feelings. Sometimes that’s all a person needs to hear, y’know? Thank you sweetheart.” He turned his head slightly so he could rest his chin along your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t you go and make me cry right now cowboy. I completely understand though. Your feelings are valid. Now, let's get some water in your system and then get you to bed.” You gently squeezed his hand once more as you were standing up from the comforter.

“Stay.” He whispered.

“What?..”

“Please stay the night.” He was already reaching for your hand again.

“Joel..we said we wanted to take things slow. Remember?”

“I just wanna hold ya. I don’t want you drivin’ home alone this late either. I understand if you don’t want to, and I won’t pressure you.”

“Okay. I’ll spend the night.” You whispered.

“I’ll get you somethin’ to sleep in.” He was slowly rising from the comforter to grab you a tshirt and boxers to sleep in. “bathroom is just down the hall. I think we got extra toothbrushes in the cabinet. There’s face wash and stuff too.” He grabbed you a fresh shirt and boxers from his dresser and handed them to you.

“Thank you. I’m going to get us some water as well and then i’ll come to bed, Okay?”

Joel nodded before his arms were wrapping around you and giving you a warm hug. He kissed the side of your head before he slowly pulled away.

You left his bedroom quietly so he could have some privacy to change as you quietly padded down the hall to the bathroom. You changed out of your work clothes and into the T-shirt and boxers Joel gave you. They smelled like him, and lavender vanilla laundry detergent. You found a spare unopened toothbrush and quietly brushed your teeth and washed your face. You found your way down to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water.

Joel was changed and under the covers by this time. He texted Tommy that he was home safe and that he was right about you. He left out the part that you were spending the night, because he knew that he’d never hear the end of it.

You quietly slipped past his bedroom door, handing him the bottle of water before you set your clothes, and purse down on the nightstand and slowly climbed under the covers. Joel had chugged nearly half the bottle of water before he rolled over onto his side to face you. He had mumbled something incoherent as he reached his arms out and slowly wrapped them around your waist and pulled you in close. His chest was bare, and warm against your cheek, and you could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat as your legs gently entangled together.

“G’night, darlin.’” Joel whispered softly into your hair as his eyes closed.

“Goodnight, cowboy.” You whispered back as you let your body relax in his grasp. Soon, you were drifting off into the peaceful dream realm.

tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @lovers-liability @777-wonders @mirasantidotes @pedgeitopascal @loquaciousferret @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @bonglorddaryl @novemberrain-writes @sarahhxx03 @myrealmofchaos @finnsbubblegum @danilakozlovsky @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ssa-raye @pedropascalfan221 @missgurrl @leeeesahhh @yazsos @sunakochansama43 @casa-boiardi @last-girl @frankthesexualsadist @shatteredbaby @rye-flower @elliewilliamsno1simp @wonder-harley @userpedros @pedrospartner

269 notes · View notes

bumpkinspice0 · 10 months

Text

Parallels: Chapter 3

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!!)

Word Count: 1400

Summary:Miguel was consuming your every thought and it's becoming an issue. You wonder if he's having the same problem.

Warnings: Smut- Male (Shower) masturbation, Sexual frustration, Pinning, tension, Angsy as hell, learn a little more about reader's life, J. Jonah Jameson is in every universe Notes: I just realized I never said that the 'shared spider-sense' theme of this fic is entirely inspired by the relationship between Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, or more commonly known as Silk. They were both bitten by the same spider and share a spider sense, making them drawn to each other and ALSO able to track the other through the multi-verse. Silk is a an awesome spider character. 10/10 recommend checking out her comics (But I say that about every comic) I'm not sure Miguel and readers connection will be exaaaactly the same since they literally couldn't have been bitten by the same spider, but yeah. This is a totally cannon thing spider people can do 😅

Previous Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

Chapter 3

On My Mind

The restaurant was busier than you’d like, but really everywhere in this city was. Busier just meant louder, and louder meant earplugs for you. After having advanced hearing for nearly a decade you’d gotten used to it by now. You didn’t want to spend all night asking people to repeat themselves because you could over-hear everything that was happening in the restaurant. Right now you just wanted to be with your friends— unfortunately, your mind kept drifting elsewhere.

Since you returned to your dimension 3 days ago, Miguel has consumed your every waking thought. Your daily hero life was suffering for it. You lost 2 robbers last night and missed a car chase this morning because you were too stuck in your own head. You were never one to get distracted on the job— and by a guy no less.

I should have stayed in the training room. I should have stayed longer and maybe we could have…

You’re not entirely sure what would have happened, honestly. This was uncharted territory. Some undefined connection only between the two of you? An innate sensation that drove you to horny madness. It sounded like a bad comic book plot. You’d probably had weirder things happen in your nearly 10-year-long spider career but this was by far the most frustrating.

Just the thought of him invaded your every sense. The deep rumble of his voice. His distinctive, rich smell— Like red wine. The taste he left in your mouth.

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly, and you hated how much you wanted him. You didn’t even know anything about him.

Fuck Miguel O’Hara and whatever the fuck he was doing to you.

But Miguel was a Spider-Woman problem.

Tonight you didn’t want to be Spider-Woman. You wanted to forget your interdimensional side gig and the broody, gigantic man that was driving you insane. Tonight you just wanted to be a good friend— and you were failing miserably at that too.

Your best friend Jack wrangled his boyfriend, Ash, and your college friend Sue to come out for drinks and your mind couldn’t be further away.

“Hey, space cadet!” Jack snaps his fingers directly in front of your face. You’d been staring at the same potted plant across the room for probably 5 minutes now. You crash back to maddening reality.

“Sorry, what?” you reenter whatever the conversation was now with a pitiful smile.

“Ash asked what’s new at the paper,” Jack repeats the question you never heard. He gives you a worried look. Jack knew about your double life. He’d known you for so long now, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He'd catch it whenever something was slightly amiss before you could even articulate a single word— thus why he lined up this friend's night in the first place. You’d been reclusive since you’d joined the multiverse.

“Oh, at the Bugle?” You take a generous swig of your cocktail, “Jameson’s still behind on the times, I think. Keeps trying to push papers instead of giving our digital department more funding. I’m still only making stuff for print. Like, do you even remember the last time you even read from a newspaper?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I ever have.” Ash snorts.

“Maybe in high school,” Sue taps her chin, “And even then it was for like an assignment.”

“People still need paper-mache supplies!” Jack interjects.

“Hey!” you playfully shove him, “That’s my entire industry you’re shitting on, sir!”

“Oh, so you’re defending the infamous J. Jonah Jameson now?”

“I’m but a lowly graphic designer,” you clarify, “The only thing he wants me to do with his precious paper is not look too much like The Times .”

You’d landed your job at The Daily Bugle in college. An internship turned full-time staff position. You’d gotten Jack some freelance work there on the side. He was seemingly the only photographer that could get a halfway decent picture of the mysterious Spider-Woman. He always gave you a small cut of whatever Jamason was willing to shell out. You didn’t know how to work a camera for crap, but you knew how to pose for a picture.

The evening rolls on with a pleasant demeanor. It was nice to be talking to non-spider people. To listen to the casual ramblings of your friend's completely ordinary lives. That new bitch at work or their mother calling one too many times a day. You envied them, honestly. It’s been so long since you could just simply live . This night out was a small taste of what you’d been missing. Connection.

And, of course, it gets ruined.

The nearby wail of sirens penetrates through your foam earplugs. They were maybe 3 blocks away. Once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. All conversations fall dead in your ears, your focus now entirely on the possible imminent danger to your city. The sirens are getting further away now.

A vibration from your phone in your pocket catches your attention. You check it under the table. A text from Jack.

‘Sidejob thing?’

He always texted you in code about Spider-Woman business. He must have seen your face go placid, even though he can’t hear the distant sirens. You give him a faint nod across the table and he glances to the door— His silent message loud and clear.

What are you waiting for? Go.

You know Jack did his best to understand, even if he never truly could. You had a duty. It wasn’t just a job, but who you were. You could never just stand idly by.

You quickly make an excuse about forgetting a deadline and shimmy out of the booth, leaving a few bucks for your meal. So much for no Spider-Woman tonight.

____

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

It had become his mantra for the last few days— of course, it didn’t help anything, but cursing you gave him some minor vindication.

He found himself in the shower 20 minutes longer than usual, attempting to give himself some kind of relief. The thought of you waiting on your knees for him clawed at his mind. He stroked his painfully hard cock to the image, now forever burned into his retinas.

He never got distracted. It wasn’t in his nature. He prided himself on being the best leader he possibly could be. Attentive, knowledgeable, a team player— and for the most part, he was. Now you had come and thrown a wrench into all of that.

He should have known from the first time he saw you this would be a problem. It caught him completely off guard, but how could he have been prepared for… whatever this was? He was in the midst of building an empire, and there you were, as casual as ever— and so clearly just as confused as he was. A spider-sense suddenly manifesting? Ridiculous.

As soon as you locked eyes, he knew this was all because of you.

God, you were beautiful.

There had been few times he let his instincts take hold of him. He’d made himself into an apex predator in search of his spider abilities— he had to hold himself to a different standard than the rest of you. He was dangerous, and whatever this connection is, was dangerous in turn.

He couldn’t control it, not yet anyway. And seemingly, you couldn’t either. You were both prey to your most primal desires and irresistibly drawn to the other to satisfy them.

He couldn’t escape your assault on all of his senses. He was fixated on you in every way imaginable. Your smell, your voice, your looks— your taste.

He cums to the memory of your soft thighs squeezing his head. He heaves shaky breath after shaky breath, trying to gather his composure. It was hollow, fleeting relief. He can’t help but think you could have made it better— He knows you’d have made it better. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the foggy glass and is immediately disgusted with himself.

He’d never been this way before. You were part of his team, a fellow hero that decided to join his league. He was your boss, for lack of a better term. This couldn’t go on. At least not the way it was currently.

He needed answers.

He was a scientist. It was time to do some research.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099

170 notes · View notes

tj-dragonblade · 6 months

Text

[Fic] Appreciation

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: E Word Count: 4369 Tags: Top Dream, Bottom Hob, costume, costume from Baldur's Gate 3, Hob looks good in sexy armor, Dream has plans, possessive Dream, inspired by art, groping, anal fingering, public sex, shapeshifting for sex, mild body horror, for sexy reasons I promise, tentacle-adjacent sex, sharing fantasies as dirty talk, coming untouched, over-stimulation, anal sex, possessive exhibitionism as a theme, sweat is sexy, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, un-negotiated shenanigans, the word 'No' is absolutely in Hob's vocabulary but he doesn't often use it

Notes: Sequel to Anticipation. Please find @designtheendless' original inspiring art and additional costume references here, here, and here.

So I scribbled out Anticipation really quick, and then the word Sequel came up a few times, and then Dream reasserted his Horny Little Weasel status and Hob as always is amenable to whatever he wants so here we are. Enjoy.

Summary: Hob wears the costume. Dream has his fun.

On AO3

~~~ "So, how's the daydream buffet?" Hob grins, cheeky. "Everything to your liking?"

"Very much so." Dream's smile has an extremely self-satisfied curl to it, eyes half-lidded as they sweep over Hob for at least the tenth time in the past hour. He's seated on a high stool against the wall, taking in the crowds and noise and lively bubbling humanity around him without having to be directly in the midst of it. He's got a decent line of sight on most of the pub from here, making it easy to track Hob moving about all night.

Which is perfect—because watching Hob, watching other people watch Hob, is Dream's primary purpose here this evening.

And truthfully, Hob is having a lot of fun with the ogling. It delights him and boosts his ego to know that Dream is so invested in the way he looks tonight. He's wearing almost the full costume that he'd modeled for Dream earlier that week; the gloves were more trouble than they were worth and had been left upstairs, but he's got the big fur-wrapped boots and the long high-slit tunic with the plunging neckline and the amulet on his forehead and the cape, which he is seriously considering removing at this point except that Dream would pout. Something about the drama of the cape being necessary to properly sell the fantasy of the very impractical and highly aesthetic armor.

It's not actual scale mail; he doesn't have the muscle tone and stamina these days to wear that much extra weight around for the night. It's dreamstuff, probably, styled as heavy-duty sequins, sturdy but lightweight and so expertly crafted that it looks authentically metal unless you get right up on the fabric and start poking and prying. But it's light enough and moves well and drapes nicely and is overall quite easy to wear, if a little drafty. He's comfortable in his own skin and having this much of it on display genuinely doesn't bother him, so long as nobody gets flashed accidentally; the three sets of chains across his naked hips do an admirable job of keeping the front and back skirts in place where it matters, and he's counting on Dream's promise of 'no wardrobe mishaps' to guarantee his decency.

He sidles up to Dream behind the small round bar-height table, bumps shoulders lightly, bumps his bare hip against Dream too just for good measure. "Glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Indeed." Dream leans minutely into him, while also turning to better face him. "And how do you fare, on display in your very fetching garb, knowing the thoughts and eyes of so many are upon you?"

"Got to take your word for it, haven't I?" he says, genially. "On their thoughts, at least; I might have noticed one or two looks. Very flattering, really." It's been more than 'one or two' and they both know it, but Dream has a tendency to respond with compliments when Hob gets a little self-effacing and maybe he enjoys hearing it, time to time.

Dream's fingertips brush his bare leg, tracing patterns throught the thick hair below where the chains preserve his modesty. "You should be flattered, Hob. Their thoughts are quite…fitting, when such exquisite beauty moves among them." His hand travels lightly around the shape of Hob's thigh, curves slowly up the back of it beneath the armored skirt—not far enough to be publicly indecent, just far enough to send a little thrill up Hob's spine. "And I am immeasurably pleased that I am the one who gets to take you home tonight."

"Aren't you sweet." Hob flutters his lashes coyly to cover the way he kind of wants to swoon at Dream just saying that sort of thing so easily. It's such a far cry from his everyday reserve and Hob is entirely grateful that he gets to see the Dream who will stop and breathe and relax and smile and let himself want things. And if Hob is one of the things he wants, well, so much the better. "Promise, I'm all yours tonight. As long as you don't mind I'm getting a little sweaty down below." His grin is halfway between sheepish and smug, unable to resist reminding Dream that he's not wearing anything under the costume.

"I will clean you up later, never fear," Dream says, with a sweet little glitter in his eye that makes Hob's pulse jump. Dream's enthusiasm for all the everyday mundanities of Hob's human body will never cease to thrill him, either.

He shifts slightly, leaning in, feeling terribly romantic. "I'll hold you to that," he murmurs, and Dream, smiling, says nothing in reply but closes in for a kiss. His hand slides soft against Hob's neck, above the pauldron and the choker, stroking sensually up beneath his hair. The kiss itself is entirely decent, if a bit lingering, but there's still a wolf-whistle from one of the staff behind the bar—probably Sam, but Hob can't be sure. He flips a friendly bird in that general direction regardless as they draw apart.

The pub is lively and crowded, a fine turnout for a Friday night Halloween party and Hob's staff are hopping, keeping everything running smoothly. He's built a good crew and they've got things well in hand; 'supervising' has given Hob the excuse to wander among the patrons sowing daydreams for Dream's benefit, but truthfully he's not needed in any capacity. Which means he's free to spend his time being just another patron himself, here with the king of dreams and nightmares, who has agreed to set down his duties for an evening for the sake of accompanying Hob as his date.

Hob truly is the luckiest bloke alive.

There are as many people in costume as not, and Dream of course is not one to pass up the opportunity to dress with drama and flair. He's wearing something from the same game that he's drawn Hob's ridiculous outfit from, only more practical. It's all black as expected, leather armor over sensible clothing, some golden accents, and he's given himself pretty little pointed ears to complete the look. They've gotten many compliments, together and separately, and Hob can tell that Dream is equally as pleased at the praise for his creative sartorial efforts as he is about inciting daydreams of Hob for the sake of his own titillation.

And on the subject of titillation…

"Y'know, I thought about wearing a plug tonight?"

"Oh?" Dream does not move, barely shifts, but everything about him suddenly conveys paying acute attention.

Hob dimples. "Yeah. Figured, you getting all worked up showing me off, sampling everybody's envious daydreams, maybe skipping the prep time after would be smart."

"But you did not?"

"'Fraid not, nope—changed my mind." He winks. "You made me wear this ridiculous getup all night, you can take the time to get me proper ready once you peel me out of it."

"A pity." Dream's hand snakes down Hob's back as he leans closer, using his body and Hob's cape to hide where it moves next from anyone in the crowded pub who might glance their way. "I should have liked to do this—" his hand slips beneath the extremely accessible back of Hob's costume to stroke down the cleft of his arse "—and find you already open, filled, wanting and ready for me."

"Christ," Hob swears, standing up a little straighter, because in addition to the sultry words Dream is sliding one finger between his cheeks, a finger that is suddenly slick and probing, going straight to his hole and teasing over it. Surely he's not—

"But I suppose I shall just have to make you ready myself, then," Dream confirms, and his finger slips in, easily.

"Dream!" Hob hisses, eyes widening at the intrusion, and then he manages a return smile to a passerby despite himself. "We are surrounded by people! Who know me! And I'm completely naked under here!"

"Yes, I do recall," Dream purrs, and twists his hand around so that his fingertip strokes unerringly over Hob's prostate.

"Hngh—" He bites back a whine, stifles the urge to slouch, to widen his stance, to lean forward over the table so Dream has better access. "You're giving me a massive hard-on and I've got nothing to even attempt to hide it with!"

"No one will notice. Unless you should like for them to."

"No, thank you! Oh god—" Dream's finger is changing, less bony within him, more flexible, wriggling like a tentacle and it feels incredible. Hob is breathing hard through his nose, hanging onto the appearance of normalcy by his fingernails, sweat breaking out all over as he tenses and trembles. His cock is fully tenting at the front of his armored skirt—the sequined material is heavy enough to keep things down a bit, but not completely, and the table provides a little cover for now, but it is still wildly bizarre to be getting a full and thorough prostate massage in the middle of his pub on a Friday night while the Halloween party's in full swing.

"You've got no concern for propriety, have you?" he gasps out, choking back a moan.

"If I had no concern for propriety, Hob Gadling, I would not be showing such restraint in my current actions."

"Mrhnnhh—" Hob is finding his self control sorely tested as Dream's not-finger wriggles inside him, strokes lovingly over his prostate. "Restraint, you call this? Really?" He bites at his lip to keep back the whine in his throat, glances about, but no one seems to be taking any notice of his rising discomposure.

"Indeed." Dream does not let up on his artful expert stimulation. "Were I to cast off all restraint, Hob, I would have you over this table, here and now."

"Fuck." Hob realizes too late that he's blundered his way into a fatal error, that now Dream is going to tell him dirty fantasies while fingering him in public and already he can feel any control over this situation running like water through his hands where they tremble against his naked thighs. "Fuck."

"Indeed," Dream purrs. "I would fuck you, here, in the middle of your fine establishment, on display before all your patrons, let them bear witness to my claim that none might dispute it. But first—" His touch inside of Hob twists deliciously and Hob jerks, just barely keeps down the sound he wants to make, nostrils flaring with the effort and the surge of pleasure through his veins. "First, I would kiss you, as lewdly as I like; I would grind and grope at you as I please with my tongue in your mouth while they watch, and envy." His finger-tentacle rubs firmly, lovingly over Hob's prostate and Hob's mouth falls open; he manages to keep his throat closed and his moan in but his eyes have rolled back in very telltale combination with his mouth and he hopes to god no one is looking right that second.

"Then I would eat you out in the way that you like best," Dream continues, "that they might drink of your cries, the way you beg me for more, and know that it is I who brings you low, who makes your body sing." He's stroking precise little circles in exactly the right spot and Hob's stomach is trembling with the thrill of it, the way the pleasure washes hot and cold in waves all down his bare legs and curls his toes in his big furry boots. One hand is braced on the table in an attempt to keep himself steady and he's biting his lip trying to keep the sounds in; his chest is sheened in sweat beneath his hair, he can feel it, and what must he look like to anyone actually paying attention, all flushed and cozied up to Dream in this slutty slutty costume—

"I would let them see how you gape for me, once I had sated myself on the taste of you, let them see how keenly your body longs for mine and mine alone, despite how they dream of being in my place. And I would make them watch me fill you, again and again, slowly, savoring the way you grasp at my cock, pull me deeper—" His tentacle-finger writhes abruptly inside of Hob and Hob gasps, choking back the cry that wants to escape.

"Fuck, Dream, I am not coming in fancy dress with no underwear on in the middle of my pub—!" He shudders, leaning forward enough to grip the table in both hands, white-knuckled as he fights the raw need to drape himself over it and beg Dream to fuck him properly, to follow through on every word he's just said.

"You alright, Robbie?" The question comes from Rebecca, one of the waitstaff, swinging by on her way back toward the bar. "You're looking a bit flushed."

"Don't think I'm quite feeling my best," he says, voice tight, using every ounce of willpower to keep his tone even and his body under control as he straightens up with Dream's…appendage still inside him. Lightning shoots along every limb with the movement and he swallows his moan with difficulty, managing a trembling smile for Rebecca while his cock throbs, leaks against the skirt of this stupid sexy costume.

"I am taking him upstairs to lie down," Dream cuts in, lacing his fingers with Hob's and covering their joined hands with his other, solicitously, at which point Hob completely loses any thread of the conversation because if both of Dream's hands are on his then what the hell is still wriggling about in his arse??

"Come, Hob," Dream says, tugging on their joined hands. "Let's get you home."

"Hope you feel better!" Rebecca calls after them, but Hob is far too distracted trying to walk with whatever-it-is caressing his prostate to acknowledge her, a death grip on Dream's hand in his and the other clinging desperately to Dream's leather armor as he leans on his shoulder.

"You complete and utter bastard," he gets out through gritted teeth, only the last word betraying the whine in his throat. "What—on earth did you leave in—inside me?"

"It is merely a piece of myself, still fully connected to my consciousness and will," Dream demurs, innocent as anything. "I will retrieve it when it has done what I wish it to do." He lets go of Hob with one hand, fingers of the other—a complete set of them, never mind what's inside Hob—still intertwined, and pushes open the 'Staff Only' door to the back hall.

"Please tell me you're magicking us straight upstairs," Hob gasps as soon as they're through with the door shut behind them, voice wobbling. The dream-tentacle-whatever, he's not thinking too closely on that, it's still squirming inside him like mad, pleasure singing through his body in relentless surges that have him shaking and it feels like it's swelling now, growing larger, stretching him further with each undulation. His naked thighs feel a bit like jelly and the stairs at the end of the short hall seem absolutely insurmountable from here.

Dream makes a cloyingly-sweet little noise of disappointment. "I should like to see you mount the stairs under your own power, though," he says, as if Hob would be doing him the greatest service imaginable in complying. "You are so beautiful like this, strung taut and alight with pleasure, coming apart on the 'gift' I have left within you…" He turns and steps into Hob without letting go of his hand, brushes his mouth across Hob's. "Please, Hob," he says, tongue curling between Hob's lips on the 'L', "won't you let me. Enjoy you, like this, a few moments longer?"

And Hob whimpers, knowing he's done for, knowing he could never hope to say no, taking the tease of a kiss for what it is. "Fine. Fine. As you wish, oh god—!"

The bit of Dream inside him squirms in delight, and Hob's gasping whine falls directly into Dream's mouth.

"I am going to die and it's going to be your fault," he warns, pulling away, voice trembling as pleasure surges through him, and follows on shaking unsteady legs as Dream leads him forward.

The next few minutes are the most exquisite torture he's ever undergone, Dream backing up the stairs ahead of him, pulling him gallantly by the hand, the swollen tentacle of dreamstuff making sweet merciless unrelenting love to his prostate while he tries not to trip over the long skirt of his ridiculous armor or his cape. He stumbles more than once, his shaking legs giving out despite his resolve, pleasure rendering him weak and uncoordinated; Dream is there to catch him each time, cooing endearments against his cheek and pulling him upright again to continue on. He is flushed and overheated, pulse racing, absolutely steaming in his own sweat, moaning helplessly with every deliciously labored step.

The thing in his arse swells and changes halfway up the stairs, no longer a single cohesive surface caressing his insides but what feels like—it feels like a hundred little tongues all licking his prostate one after the other, ceaseless, inescapable, maddeningly delicious. It would be exquisite if he were stationary, if he were kneeling facedown in his bed with his arse up and his thighs spread, letting it work him to climax. It is nearly unbearable like this, shifting inside him with every step and heightening the pleasure coursing through his body with no respite and no relief as he trembles his way up the last of the stairs. His ears are ringing and his mouth is dry, Dream's beautiful face blurring as his vision goes fuzzy; he's clinging to Dream's hand like a lifeline, whimpering uncontrollably as climax surges in his belly.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck, Dream—I can't—ohfuckohfuckohfuck—!"

He makes it over the last step as it hits and then he's collapsing in front of his door as orgasm crashes through him, crying out, shaking on hands and knees until his arms give out as well and he's more or less flat on his face, arse in the air, coming and coming all over the inside of the stupid armored skirt. It's pleasure so sharp that his eyes water, tears trickling down his face, voice caught in his throat as it goes on and on. And Dream.

Dream is gazing down at him, riveted, enraptured, as if the sight of Hob writhing and sobbing in pleasure at his feet is the most compelling work of art he's ever witnessed. Maybe it is. Hob wouldn't know, drowning in the throes of his climax, clawing uselessly at the carpet he's drooling on and desperately trying to find the voice to beg for Dream to stop. Because the thing in his arse? Is still wriggling full-tilt, never mind the way he's clenching and spasming around it, never mind that his body is overloaded with pleasure and he absolutely cannot handle any more. His cock is pulsing and twitching untouched, emptied in those first few powerful shots and still dribbling weak spurts as everything convulses repeatedly under the unceasing stimulation; he can hardly draw breath let alone catch it and his heart is pounding furiously.

He's going to die. This is how he's going to go, finally, after six centuries of glorious glorious living, taken out by his stupid sexy eldritch boyfriend and his bloody stupid detachable orgasm finger and Hob wants to scream his unbearable pleasure, to shriek with laughter until he can't breathe for the mirth except he already can't fucking catch a breath and it's too much, too much, so fucking good but too much too much he can't possibly come anymore he's going to die—

And then, mercifully, the thing in his arse goes still.

Hob sprawls limp on the floor when it stops, abruptly boneless, twitching, soaked in his own sweat and come, heaving breath after breath regardless of what he might be inhaling with his face in the carpet—it's not like it'll kill him. His cape settles over him like a blanket.

"Beautiful," Dream murmurs, and all Hob can hear past the pounding of his heart is the abject sincerity underwriting that deep warm voice.

Which makes it all absolutely worth it.

Dream pushes open his front door with no apparent key, bends gracefully down and rolls him over, picks him up bridal style and carries him in. He removes Hob's cape and boots, drops them aside and kicks the door gently closed behind them, and then his arm around Hob's back moves down.

Hob, wrung out and still trembly and floating in his afterglow nevertheless gets his arms around Dream's neck, hanging on as Dream slides a hand beneath his costume and gently touches his arsehole. He has a brief sense of two slender fingers sliding in, and then the warm slick bulk of the tentacle is drawing sweetly out of him. There's an obscenely thick-wet sound accompanying the surge of pleasure that sweeps through Hob as it exits his body, and he moans, panting into Dream's shoulder.

"I daresay you are quite ready for me, now," Dream says, amusement curling through his voice, and Hob can only give a wet shaky laugh of agreement. Whatever Dream took out of him has disappeared, reabsorbed he supposes, and it's left him wonderfully open and slick and distressingly empty.

"Please." Words are returning, slowly. "Dream—"

Dream carries Hob into the bedroom, disappears his own costume and lays himself back in Hob's bed with Hob straddling his lap. He crumples the soiled skirts of Hob's armor to the side, out of the way, and slides himself slick and easy into Hob, who settles back and rides as best his trembling thighs can manage. Which, understandably, isn't much; before long he's just leaning forward again, braced on his hands, holding still and letting Dream fuck up into him. The sharp edge of climax has dulled and he's left with the delicious rhythm of Dream's very normal cock thrusting nicely against his tender swollen prostate, the warm burgeoning of pleasure without the urgency of orgasm behind it.

"Do you know, how many of the people below in your pub would dream of being here in my place?" Dream asks, hands firmly gripping Hob's thighs, thumbs stroking through the hair in time with his slow thrusts up.

"Mmnope," Hob mumbles, mouth slack, captivated by the blue of Dream's eyes holding his and the adorable pointy ears that he's still sporting. "Tell me?"

"A great many," Dream sighs, satisfaction curling from each word. "Dozens upon dozens of dreamers, thinking of you, in wonderful detail…" His hands move to Hob's waist. "You were very inspiring, Hob, and I am well fed on the dreams you have shaped in others."

"Anything for you," Hob says, and he means it one hundred percent.

They move together in relative silence for another few seconds, and then:

"I was thinking," Hob sighs, awash in smooth currents of bliss, "'bout what you said downstairs? We could do it if you like. In a dream?"

Dream makes a considering noise, fingers running idly up and down the silver lace framing Hob's sweaty chest, toying with the thin chain down the middle, still fucking smooth and effortless and the ease with which he does so never fails to get Hob going.

"I don't mean in front of your people or anything, they don't—ahh—they don't deserve that any more'n my staff but—" he tosses his head back, panting, as Dream's cock hits him exactly right. "But I could dream it, and you could be there, and help shape it, and make sure I remember and all. And then you could stake your claim in front of a crowd, live your dr—your fantasy, and I don't have to fake my death early and start over just yet." He grins, warm and happy, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow at Dream beneath the slender chains holding the golden amulet on his forehead in place.

Dream's answering smile is slow and smouldering. "Hob Gadling," he purrs, settling his hands on Hob's naked hips, below the rucked up strands of chain. "I am pleased by your generous offer, and I should like to accept it. First, however—" his grip tightens and he surges, rolls Hob underneath him in the blink of an eye without separating them. "First, I would finish what you have begun here in the waking world."

"What I've begun? Really?"

Dream fucks into him, smooth and deep. "It was you, was it not, who displayed yourself so beautifully in this 'armor', who shaped the daydreams of dozens by wandering among them clothed thus?"

"And whose idea was the costume? Hm? Who asked that I forego my ahh—my underwear? Who started fingering me in the—the middle of the pub?"

"I am not the one who requested your presence at my social function, Hob." There's a wicked glimmer in Dream's eyes now, and he's fucking into Hob a little faster, a little harder.

"And I'm not the one who insisted on being allowed to choose the costume in return for agreeing," Hob gasps, legs wrapping more firmly around Dream. "Got no complaints about any of it, have I? 'Course not—oh—'cause here we are—but you're the—nnh—the instigator, you started it—"

Dream cuts him short with a kiss, hot and wet and full of tongue. Hob opens to it eagerly; the warm languid pleasure of being fucked through his afterglow is heating steadily and gaining urgency and he thinks he might even manage to come again, if Dream keeps this up. He tangles his fingers through Dream's hair, holds him tightly, pours all of his adoration and appreciation into the kiss.

When Dream finally breaks away, it's only to concede, remarkably enough. "Very well, Hob Gadling. I started it." He takes Hob's hands from his hair gently, one at a time, interlaces their fingers and pins them beside Hob's head. "And now I shall finish it."

And that is the last coherent sentence from either of them for quite some time.

=== Started: 9/24/23 Drafted: 10/3/23 Posted: 10/21/23

They would like to do a part three, so feel free to subscribe to the series on AO3 and keep your fingers crossed that my focus and their interest holds

#TJs Fics #Sandman #Dreamling #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #wip: a2

80 notes · View notes