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chuluoyi · 2 months

Text

yours, indefinitely

- geto suguru x reader

each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!

note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.

But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.

Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.

MONTH TWO

Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.

You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.

When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"

"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.

Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.

"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"

"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"

“I d-don't want to trouble you...”

Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"

"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"

And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.

"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.

MONTH THREE

When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.

But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.

"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"

"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."

His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."

"Hmph... but baby wants it."

"But—!"

"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"

"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"

"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.

In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.

“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”

. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.

MONTH FOUR

With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.

And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.

"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.

"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"

"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"

Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."

"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"

Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.

“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”

"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."

"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."

You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"

"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."

"Even when you already have the twins?"

"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"

One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.

And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.

. . .

In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.

MONTH FIVE

“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.

You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”

Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”

Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.

“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”

Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”

He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”

“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.

Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”

Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—

“Suguru!”

You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.

Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"

It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—

He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.

MONTH SIX

It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.

He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.

He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.

By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.

"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."

"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"

Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."

Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."

At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”

Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.

MONTH SEVEN

You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.

"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"

Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.

Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.

"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"

It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.

"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."

"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"

Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."

And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.

MONTH EIGHT

"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.

With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.

You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.

He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.

“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”

You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.

In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.

You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—

“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.

Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.

“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.

“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.

You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.

Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.

“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”

And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.

Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.

Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—

His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—

—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.

"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.

"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.

And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.

Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.

Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.

And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.

"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.

"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.

Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."

He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.

And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—

"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"

Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.

Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.

"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."

You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."

But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.

And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.

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runa-falls · 9 months

Note

FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?

a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me

special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol

cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.

wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)

---

miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.

sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.

you're spoiled, really.

miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).

miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.

he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.

he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.

he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.

he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.

you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.

he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.

you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).

you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.

he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.

as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.

it didn't last for long.

you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.

just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.

his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.

he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.

you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.

he doesn't react.

somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.

he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.

it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.

"...baby."

"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.

you huff.

"but--"

"not right now."

you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...

you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).

"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.

you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.

"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.

"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.

he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.

"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.

he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.

his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.

"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.

he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.

you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.

he's so good at this, too good at this.

how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?

you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.

you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.

his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.

his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.

you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.

before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.

"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.

"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."

so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.

but he's hard.

he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.

so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.

you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.

it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.

you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.

he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.

you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.

but he ignores it.

he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).

you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.

it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.

until you arent.

you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.

you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--

your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.

"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.

he says your name once more.

"you're working."

"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"

"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"

"cariño..."

"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.

you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."

well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?

you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.

you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)

he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.

"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"

you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.

he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.

you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.

you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.

he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.

maybe just a few minutes?

LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....

#anon #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #atsv #2099

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ohproserpine · 3 months

Text

iv. dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago

˚୨୧₊♱

"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.

With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"

"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"

Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"

A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.

"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"

Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.

"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."

"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"

Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"

"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.

As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"

Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"

Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."

˚୨୧₊♱

The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.

Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.

Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.

Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.

"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."

"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."

"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"

Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."

A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"

“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"

With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.

Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."

"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"

"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.

"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."

"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.

Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.

As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.

"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"

With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"

As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.

On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.

Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.

Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.

"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.

The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.

"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."

"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"

Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.

Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.

The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.

"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."

"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"

Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.

The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.

"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.

"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"

"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.

"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"

Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."

"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"

Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."

Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"

"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."

Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"

The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.

"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.

"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."

"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.

"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.

Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.

˚୨୧₊♱

You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.

You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.

"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."

Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.

A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.

You missed your husband.

With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸

A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.

Alastor.

Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.

With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.

"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.

Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.

"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."

Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.

From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.

Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.

The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.

You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.

In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.

Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.

The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"

"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"

"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."

Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.

To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract

"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"

"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.

"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.

"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.

"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."

"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.

"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."

A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."

Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.

"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.

"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.

Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.

“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”

"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."

“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”

Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.

"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"

Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.

A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "

Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.

"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"

"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."

Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.

The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.

The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.

Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.

"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.

"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."

˚୨୧₊♱

#calm before the #before the :))#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel vox

4K notes · View notes

eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 7 months

Text

Next caller.

《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.

Mini series masterlist

18+ no minors

Year 1990

Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.

Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.

Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.

He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.

You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house partylies and girls giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.

You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.

One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.

You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.

Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.

You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.

A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.

You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.

"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.

You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"

You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.

You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."

You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.

The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"

You struggled to find your voice yet again.

"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.

"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.

He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."

"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.

"That's okay. Well, keep this anonymous." He replied.

His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."

"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.

"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.

His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.

"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "

"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.

Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.

Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct."

"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.

"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.

You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.

"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.

"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.

"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.

'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.

A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"

"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.

"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.

"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.

"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.

You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."

"That's a good girl." He praised.

You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"

Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.

"I got it." You whisper into the phone.

He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."

You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.

"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.

"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.

He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."

"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"

"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.

"That's my good girl." He cooed.

You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.

You gulped into the phone." Yeah."

His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.

"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.

"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"

"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.

"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.

"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"

A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.

"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.

You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"

You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."

"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.

You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.

"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.

"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.

He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."

"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.

"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.

Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.

Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."

His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.

"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.

"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."

His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.

Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.

"S'close." You whined.

"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.

The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.

You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.

Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.

Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.

Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.

"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.

With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.

"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.

"How was it." He asked, hoping you had a good time.

"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.

"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.

His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.

He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."

You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.

Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #90s!eddie #college!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut

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mirohlayo · 1 month

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LITTLE SPOON

( Lando is always the big spoon, so you decided to reverse the roles. )

warning : fluff and fluff and fluff

note : lando who says he never tried to be the little spoon in the chicken shop date video gave me this absolutely cute idea 🥹

word count : 1.3k

It was a pretty busy and stressful day for Lando. Free practice on the Australian circuit was very intense. Despite the fact that these tests went rather well, the fact remains that the curly-haired driver had only been waiting for one thing since this morning: to rest with his girlfriend in his arms.

This day exhausted Lando to the point where he couldn't think of anything other than throwing himself on you and cuddling you until you fell asleep, in each other's arms. The only thing he needs now is to see your pretty face and snuggle up to you.

So, while you were lying on the large double bed that reigned in your hotel room, you absentmindedly watched the television hanging on the wall opposite. You stayed almost all day in the paddock, and more particularly in the garage to support your boyfriend. But the fatigue was much more present and Lando encouraged you to rest at the hotel.

You waited patiently for your lover, because you too knew that he desired your presence just as much as you desired his. And in a fairly short space of time, you see your favorite driver suddenly appear in front of you, leaning against the door frame.

He can't help but smile at the sight of you. He missed seeing your pretty face, and your magnificent smile that you currently wear on your lips. You're just adorable and Lando only wants to cover your face with thousands of kisses.

“Hey baby” He approaches the bed, to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “How did the free practice sessions go?” You ask him curiously, but instead of receiving an answer he places another kiss on your cheek. "I don't want to talk about that. My beautiful girl is here just for me so I want to focus all my attention on her".

He smiles at you like a child, before changing into more comfortable clothes. He then comes back to you again, and without further delay he jumps into bed to take you in his arms. However, you intercept his gesture and step back, leaving him with his arms wide open, empty without the presence of your body.

He frowns, somewhat hurt by your gesture. You give him a comforting smile, before opening your arms too. “Now it’s your turn to be the little spoon.” You nod for him to come and snuggle against your body, but he continues to display a perplexed expression.

"No, I've always been the big spoon. I've never been the little spoon so why should I be now?" He tries to convince you to keep your usual roles, namely you in his arms while he comes to hold you tightly against his chest.

You widen your eyes, surprised. "What? You've never tried to be the little spoon before?" You ask quite surprised. He shakes his head no. "I've always played the role of the big spoon. I prefer it." It's your turn to frown now. "Well it's the perfect time to switch roles. I'm going to be the big spoon and you the little one, okay?"

Lando remains skeptical for a moment, preoccupied with the idea of being the little spoon. He loves having you safe and warm in his arms, being able to hold you a little tighter every minute against him, being able to admire your face as you relax in his embrace. If he becomes the little spoon, he won't be able to do that.

Finally, he shakes his head and leans back, crossing his arms. "No. If I was the little spoon I wouldn't be able to have you in my arms, and I don't like that." You have the impression of seeing him pout and this vision makes you smile stupidly. However, you roll your eyes, exhausted by his perhaps a little too dramatic reactions.

"Baby, if you don't try to be the little spoon you'll never know what it's like to be one. I assure you the feeling is so good, you should really try." You try to make your softest eyes at him to convince him to change his mind. “You could at least do that for your girlfriend right?” You look at him begging.

He stares at you with narrowed eyes, still somewhat skeptical. But your puppy dog face and your desire to hold him are too much for him. He can't resist his girl's desires, because after all, you're the priority and he can never say no to the person he loves most in the world.

He sighs before letting go. “Okay, I can try being the little spoon.” You jump with joy and excitement as he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. You lay back down on the mattress and open your arms again, now forcing him to come into your embrace.

He smiles mischievously at you before finally collapsing into your arms, trying to snuggle as close to your body as he can. Your arms come around and hug him tightly against your body, while he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. His curls tickle the skin of your neck, while you let out some giggle.

After finally finding the most comfortable position, you feel your boyfriend relax in your arms, randomly placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck or on your shoulders. You play with his hair, wrapping a few curls around your finger or lightly pulling on it to make it bounce.

He lets out a small groan of pleasure, nestling a little closer against you, as you gently caress his back. You lower your head to admire him. He really seems like a helpless child, who just needs love and comfort. It's just adorable.

You giggle, which makes him raise his head to look into yours with his beautiful gaze. "What ?" He asks, completely lost. You hold back another laugh. "Nothing. You're just really adorable and cute, baby" He blushes violently at your words, as he nuzzles his head against your neck again to hide his pink cheeks. "C'mon, you don't need to hide. You know I like it when you blush"

He groans again before lifting his head to return his gaze to your face. You place a kiss on his cheek, while his eyes narrow, a sign that he is smiling. “So, do you prefer to be the little spoon or the big spoon ?” You finally ask. He pauses, taking time to think.

"Hmm... The big one. I like feeling you safe and warm in my arms. And what's more, I can admire the beauty of my baby" You raised your eyebrows slightly. “So you don’t like being the little spoon?” "That's not what I said" He said in defense, before diving his head back against your neck.

You end up falling asleep in each other's arms, Lando comfortably ensconced in your embrace as he smiles at the touch of your hand stroking his back and the other coming to play with his hair.

However, what you won't know is that he secretly admits that he loves being the little spoon. To feel your arms around him, to smell your sweet perfume, to feel your gentle caresses and your hands in his hair, to simply feel loved and safe in your arms. He'll never admit it but he loves this feeling more than anything in the world.

So after this day, this change of role, you will find him becoming the little spoon much more often than you thought. He will no longer be able to stop himself from coming to snuggle up against you, from nestling his head in the crook of your neck and leaving hundreds of kisses there, because after all there is no doubt about it : he secretly prefers be the little spoon.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 imagine #lando norris fluff

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ahaura · 6 months

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i saw someone point out the frequency with which liberals back social justice movements... how, for instance, when ferguson happened under obama it was not popular and there were many, many liberals who found the blm movement, in a sense, "in violation of [liberal] sensibilities" (when liberalism as a rule does not challenge the status quo, only maintains it and sees any call for revolution or real change as disruptive or 'bad for optics' and therefore not acceptable) but then when trump became president and he opposed blm a lot more liberals decided that the blm movement had merit because they viewed it from a team-sports perspective rather than a worldview based on morals and an understanding of the systems in place in the U.S. - that it was more comfortable for them to operate from a "trump bad" basis rather than "the american justice system and the police are inherently white supremacist, which are inherently, automatically, and always violent"

+ that, if trump was president while israel is carrying out its genocide, liberals would have NO problem denouncing israel and demanding for a ceasefire because they're comfortable operating from the 2-party system basis, NOT from a framework based on material conditions or factors or any acknowledgement or analysis of imperialism, colonialism, or capitalism. but because biden is a democrat, and democrats are supposed to be "the decent party" "the lesser evil" "more respectable" when, in functionality - in real practice, they don't want to disrupt the status quo. (internally, maintaining systems of white supremacy and capitalism; externally, furthering U.S. imperialism by maintaining hegemony and continuing the practice of exploitation and extraction of labor+capital+resources from the global south)

which is why we're here, a month into a genocide, and liberals are so cowardly and gutless that, in the face of our democrat president allowing and funding the genocide of palestinians in order for the U.S. to maintain its military base in the middle east, liberals IMMEDIATELY jump to "well, you HAVE to vote for him still, because trump will be worse!" and go "well im powerless there's nothing i can do", immediately folding like a wet paper bag in the face of the american empire rearing its ugly head in the most blatant, naked way in years, instead of thinking "this is unacceptable, i should pressure my elected officials and do everything i can - be it combating propaganda, contacting my congresspeople or senators, protesting, or engaging in direct action - to ensure this stops as quickly as possible".

there are liberals STILL IN MY NOTIFICATIONS who go "well you'll be electing a fascist if you vote for trump" not realizing that YOU CAN'T SIMPLY VOTE FASCISM AWAY. (which is not to say you should vote for republicans; that's not what i'm saying. none of us have said it.) we're pretty much already there. it's 2003 all over again, with the patriot act and all. the american war machine is pumping out racist, orientalist, pro-colonial, pro-genocide propaganda on behalf of the ethno-state america and its allies have backed since the so-called state's inception. people are being doxxed, fired, harassed, and attacked for visibly supporting palestine/opposing israel. islamophobic hate crimes are on the rise; a 6 year old boy was murdered not one month ago, an arab doctor in texas was stabbed to death. antisemitism is on the rise as well, thanks to the conflation of antisemitism with anti-zionism (which nazis have and will attempt to co-op in order to 'justify' + then act on their antisemitism, racism, and genocidal worldviews). our government is silencing people, brutalizing protestors, and arming and funding an ethno-state committing genocide - everything that would have been called fascist if it was under trump. but because it's a *democrat* liberals place "vote blue no matter who" and "optics" over the extremely basic moral stance that "genocide is wrong and people have the right to self-determination, autonomy, and life". arabs and muslims are already so dehumanized in the west that liberals (whether they consider themselves liberals or not) consider it an inconvenience to talk about the ongoing genocide that is happening with the blessing of OUR government. in this they expose their selfishness, the shallowness of their morals, their chauvinism, and their racism/orientalism/islamophobia/et cetera.

for example, if you see israeli troops waving a gay pride flag and the israeli state touting its support of gay people while said iof soldiers are murdering men, women, and children en masse every single day and you somehow????? think that because gay people are the ones doing the killing or a state claims to support gay people is doing the killing is ok then 1) you have fallen for pinkwashing propaganda and 2) that you find the murder of palestinians, or any people, permissible by a colonial force that uses causes liberals may genuinely care about in order to disguise, whitewash, or "lessen" the severity of the injustices it does unto usually black and brown people outside of the U.S., then you are just as bloodthirsty and depraved as anyone you would personally assign those descriptors of.

once again, it goes back to resorting to a team-sport understanding of the world rather than approaching it from a material one.

#uspol #another mini-essay directed specifically at usamerican liberals.#pre-emptively blaming left-wing people or arabs or muslims for the inevitable loss of joe biden #instead of the fact that biden IS SUPPORTING GENOCIDE and also has been. generally a failure within the US as well.#like bitch look around you! look at the state things are in! AND A DEMOCRAT IS PRESIDENT!!!#📁.zip

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beatrice-otter · 2 days

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I’ll be honest, when one party’s aiding and abetting the genocide and the other’s outright gonna kill all my friends, I don’t really care if the fascists “win”. They’ve won already.

You know who would be delighted to hear that? Trump and Putin. The US far right and the Russian government have poured lots of time, effort, and money over the last decade+ into convincing US leftists and liberals that things are hopeless, there's no point in even trying to make things better, and the Democrats and Republicans are functionally interchangeable. They do this because one of the easiest ways for them to win is if the left gives up and stops trying. Every person on the left they can convince to give up in despair brings them closer to complete control. Defeatism on the left actively supports victory on the right.

I think your statement is wrong on a number of levels, both factual and emotional. It comes from not understanding what the actual options are for the US government and the President specifically, either at home or abroad. And it will allow actual fascism to flourish and make the world far worse than it is now.

On an emotional level, the way to address this is to stop doomscrolling. Stop focusing on the worst things happening in the world. Don't ignore them! but don't let them consume you. Start looking for the things that are going well. Find places in your community that you can get involved in making things better. Even if it's only on a small scale like volunteering in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, it will help you realize that you aren't helpless, that there are things that can be done to make the world a better place. Stay informed about things on a local, national, and international level, but limit how much time and attention you give to things that depress you that you can't affect. Instead of sitting there thinking about all the ways the world sucks and how awful things are, look for things you can do that are productive, and then do them. You'll feel better and you will have made your corner of the world a little better. And you will be a lot less likely to unintentionally fall into the despair, nihilism, and passivity that the fascists want you to be consumed by.

Always remember that the worlds problems are not resting solely on your shoulders, or solely on America's shoulders, and neither is the hope of fixing them. Everyone has things that we can do to make the world a better place, but there are also things that are beyond our control. We can control what we do; we cannot control what others do. We can and should try to make the world a better place, but focusing on the things we can't change has no positive benefits. Focusing on things we can't change accomplishes two things: it makes you feel bad, and it stops you from doing the things you actually can do to make things better. Neither of these things is good for you or anyone else. Look for things you can do and do them. Keep informed on the things you can't change, but don't focus on them.

On a factual level, let's look at "aiding and abetting genocide," shall we?

First, it's important to remember that the US President is not the God-Emperor Of The World. The US government has limits to what it can and can't do in other countries, and both legally and practically. If the US wants to intervene in a problem in another country, there are a variety of things we can do that boil down to basically four categories. It's a lot more complex than this in practice, of course, but in general here are the categories of things we can do:

Send in the troops. Invade, either by ourselves or as part of a NATO or UN operation. (Or maybe just send in a CIA wetworks team to assassinate the head of state.) I hope you can see the moral problems with this option, and also, we've done this a shitton of times over the course of the 20th Century and pretty much every time we've done it, we've made an already awful situation worse. On a moral level, it's pretty bad, and on a practical level, it's worse. Sure, we could stop the immediate problem, but what then? Consider Afghanistan and Iraq. We got rid of Saddam Hussein and the Taliban, and everything went to shit, we spent twenty years occupying Afghanistan with pretty much nothing to show for it. (The Taliban is back in control of Afghanistan.) Things were worse when we left than when we arrived. So this option is pretty much off the table (or should be).

Diplomatic pressure. Now, the thing is, they're a sovereign nation, they don't have to listen to us if they don't want to. We have a lot of things we can leverage--including financial aid--but the only way to force them to do what we want is to invade and conquer, and that only works temporarily. Since we can't force, we have to persuade. This requires us to maintain our existing relationship with the country in question, and possibly strengthen it, because that relationship is what we're leveraging to try and influence them to do what we want them to do. If we do not maintain our relationship, they have no reason to listen to us.

Cut ties and go home. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things and we wash our hands of the whole situation. This keeps our own hands lily-white and pure, but it also means we have zero leverage to work on any kind of a diplomatic solution. They have no reason to listen to us or care about what we think. We can pat ourselves on the back for doing the right thing, but we destroy our own ability to influence anything. Not just now, but also in the future. Let's say the current crisis ends, and then ten years later there's another crisis. If we want to have any effect then, we would have to start from square one to start building a relationship. Cutting ties would be great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, and there are times when it's the only option, but it should be a last resort. If there is any hope of being able to influence things for the better this will destroy it at least temporarily.

Cut ties and impose sanctions. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things, but also use the might of the American economy to isolate and punish them. We've done this a lot over the 20th Century, too, and it has never actually resulted in the country in question buckling down and toeing the line we want them to. What happens is the sanctioned country has an economic shock (how long it lasts and how bad it gets depends on a lot of factors) and then pulls themselves back together economically, except this time they're more self-sufficient and less reliant on international trade and financial networks. They tell themselves that America is evil and the cause of all their problems, and so not only do they not listen to us, they actively hate us. And they have fewer international relationships, so fewer reasons to care about what the international community thinks about them. So they're most likely to double down on whatever it is they're doing that we don't like. This one is completely counterproductive and utterly stupid. It's great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, but if we actually care about being able to use our influence for good (or, at least, to mitigate evil) this option shoots us in the foot. It encourages other nations to do the very thing we're trying to stop them from doing.

So, with those four options in mind, both option one (invasion/assassination) and option four (sanctions) are off the table for being immoral and counterproductive. That leaves "breaking our relationship and going home" and "using diplomatic pressure" as our only two viable options.

Biden has chosen option two, diplomatic pressure. Yes, he and our government have continued financial support for Israel ... but with strings attached. They have put limits on it that have never been put on any US foreign aid before. They have taken legal steps to lay the groundwork to target Israeli settlers (i.e. Israeli citizens who confiscate Palestinian homes and businesses). We've been hearing reports for months that Benjamin Netanyahu (Israeli Prime Minister, and a far-right-wing demagogue) hates Biden's guts, because Biden is pressuring him to stop the genocide and work towards peace. Biden is maintaining the relationship, and he's using that relationship to try and influence things to curb the violence and pave the way for a just peace settlement of some sort. Biden has also mentioned the possibility of a two state solution where Palestine becomes its own completely separate country. That's huge, because up until this point the US position has always been that Israel is the only possible legitimate nation in that territory. If Biden stopped US support for Israel, it wouldn't force Israel to stop what it's doing ... but it would let them ignore us. It would remove any leverage or influence we might have.

Biden's hands aren't clean. But the only way for them to be clean would be to also give up any chance of influencing the situation or working to protect Palestinians now or in the future. Only time will tell if it works, but I personally would rather have someone who tried and failed than someone who didn't even try. You might disagree about whether this is the right course of action, and there's a lot of room for honest disagreement about the issue (there's a lot of nuances that I'm glossing over or ignoring). But please do acknowledge that Biden isn't supporting Israel because he supports genocide; he's doing it so that he can continue to maintain diplomatic pressure on Israel to stop the violence.

Which brings us back to "aiding and abetting genocide." Trump is not like Biden. Trump is good friends with Netanyahu and backs Israel to the hilt. Trump thinks that all Arabs are terrorists (and all Muslims are terrorists) and genuinely believes the world would be a better place with them dead. Biden is continuing to support Israel, but using that support as influence to get them to stop or slow down. Trump would be using that influence to encourage them.

And those are the two choices. Someone who is trying to curb the genocide, and someone who actively supports it.

I really hope you can see the significant and substantial difference between those two positions.

But let's say that you're right and Biden's policy towards Israel and Palestine is every bit as bad as Trump's would be. If there was nothing to choose between them on foreign policy grounds, there would still be a shitton to choose between them on domestic policy grounds. You admit that the right wants to kill your friends, and yet you don't seem to think that stopping them from killing your friends might be a good thing to do.

"We can't save Palestinians, so we might as well let Republicans destroy the rights, lives, and futures of LGBTQ+ people, women, people of color, people with disabilities, poor people, non-Christians, and anyone else they don't like." "We can't save Palestinians, so why bother to try to save the people we might actually be able to save." "We can't save Palestinians right now, so there's no point in trying to build up a longer-term political bloc that might drag US politics to the left over the long run."

Do you get why there's a problem with that line of thought?

#us politics

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poohsources · 7 months

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🐝 * ― 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺. ( add " + " to reverse the action. )

❛ do you want to tell me about your day? ❜ ❛ here, you look like you're freezing. ❜ ❛ i love you just the way you are, and i'm here to remind you of that whenever you need to hear it. ❜ ❛ i promise i'll always be here if you need me. ❜ ❛ i wish i could take away all your pain. ❜ ❛ i'll stand by you, no matter what challenges may come our way. ❜ ❛ i'm gonna make sure nothing bad will ever happen to you. ❜ ❛ if you need a shoulder to lean on or someone to listen, i'm here. ❜ ❛ if you need someone to talk to i'm always just one phone call away. ❜ ❛ it's okay. i've got you. you're safe now. ❜ ❛ it's okay to feel this way, we've all been there. ❜ ❛ it's okay to lean on others for support occasionally. ❜ ❛ just let me take care of you for a bit. ❜ ❛ no matter what happens, you'll always have a place in my heart. ❜ ❛ what do you need me to do to make you feel better? ❜ ❛ you can always ask me for help if you need it. ❜ ❛ you just relax and let me do the rest. you deserve a break. ❜ ❛ you look like you could use a hug. ❜ ❛ you're always taking care of me so no it's my turn to return the favor. ❜ ❛ you're not alone in this. i'm here for you, no matter what. ❜

[ blanket ] sender draping a blanket over receiver's shoulders [ breaths ] sender helping receiver to calm down by using breathing techniques [ compliment ] sender complimenting receiver to make them smile [ cry ] sender offering receiver a shoulder to cry on [ gift ] sender giving receiver a small gift [ hand ] sender holding receiver's hand while they're walking [ hug ] sender pulling receiver into a tight embrace [ injured ] sender helping an injured receiver with everyday tasks [ jokes ] sender trying to make receiver laugh [ kindness ] sender surprising receiver with random acts of kindness [ massage ] sender giving receiver a shoulder massage to tend to their sore muscles [ patterns ] sender drawing random patterns on receiver's skin [ pillow ] sender offering receiver to use them as a pillow [ scars ] sender gently tracing receiver's scars [ sick ] sender bringing a sick receiver whatever they need ( food / medicine / etc. ) [ steady ] sender wrapping an arm around receiver's waist to steady them [ support ] sender quietly sitting down next to receiver to let them know they're there [ touch ] sender letting receiver know they're there through simple touch [ warmth ] sender pulling receiver into their arms to share body heat [ wound ] sender cleaning / bandaging receiver's wound(s)

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #nonverbal prompts #action prompts #rph #type: meme

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folkwhoredoll · 1 month

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yacht escapades - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: sneaking away with your boyfriend leads to a salacious session under the moonlight

word count: 2k

warnings/tags: smut! (unprotected sex, f and m oral, fingering, brief cockwarming), sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. seeing all your hearts and reblogs always makes my day :3 i've always wanted to write a smutfic for rafe so here it is. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

⍣ ೋ˚

“Relax, baby. This is literally my family’s yacht. Technically, it’s mine too so don’t worry.” Rafe assured you for the hundredth time, rotating the helm of the boat to move farther away from the dock.

Your boyfriend has always been unpredictable, so when he slowly woke you up half an hour ago because he couldn’t sleep, you had no idea that you two would end up sneaking away his parents’ yacht at three in the morning. A part of you was nervous, knowing that Ward tends to get pissed over the littlest things that Rafe did. But another voice was lulling you to just enjoy the night breeze.

“I know, I know. But what if—” You blabbed.

“Stop, sweetheart. We won’t even go that far.”

You sighed, walking over behind Rafe to wrap your arms around his waist while he continued to maneuver the boat far enough to isolate the two of you from the island.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” He smiled proudly, holding your hand to take you to the couch, easily pulling you to his lap.

Your breathing was quiet, hands firm on top of Rafe’s wrapped arms on your waist. He was occasionally giving you some soft kisses on the forehead and cheeks when you broke the silence. “So how exactly is this going to help you sleep?”

“It probably won’t.” He answered bluntly.

You chuckled, watching over the soft ripples on the surface of the lake.

You were on the verge of falling asleep on Rafe’s lap when you felt one of his hands move from your waist to your right thigh, thumb softly rubbing the skin. You didn’t think much of it and let out a small yawn, but he moved his hand further up, making you roll your eyes.

“Hey.”

“What?” Rafe replied innocently, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“I know what you’re doing.” You huffed. Sitting up straight but still not leaving his lap. “Did you just bring me here for sex?”

Rafe let out a fake gasp, but his eyes shone with mischief. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know, we could’ve just done it in your bedroom.”

“Where’s the thrill in that?”

“So you admit! You just want sex.” You raised your brow.

“Well, yes and no. I really couldn’t sleep but now you just look so pretty and we’re all alone here.” He said, tugging the bottom of your shirt.

You groaned, not that you were annoyed with him. You’re annoyed with yourself for liking the idea. It is no secret that you and Rafe have always been sexually active, always trying out new things that one of you may be curious about. Your sex drive matches with his, and it is one of the things that you two love about each other. So the thought of giving yourself to your boyfriend in the middle of the night underneath the stars tempted you so much. And you shamelessly fell for it.

You looked down at his groin, already noticing the bulge through his khaki shorts despite the slight darkness. You pressed your hands against him and gave it a hard squeeze, surprising Rafe.

“Fuck, baby.” He gasped, hips raising upwards slightly.

“You want me, Rafey?” You whispered, giving him the most innocent look you can muster. But Rafe can see right through you, knowing that your question was all he needed as a signal to make a move.

Rafe didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your face towards him, kissing you roughly. His tongue glided over your lower lip, making you open your mouth to let him in. Without breaking contact, you fully turned your body to face his, grinding slightly while tangling your fingers in his hair.

He put both of his hands on your hips, heavy breaths occasionally leaving his lips but never breaking the kiss. It was you who pulled away first after a while, gasping for air but wasting no time unbuttoning his shorts.

“Eager, are we?” He smirked, lips red from kissing you.

“Shut up.” You replied, hurrying to pull out his huge manhood as you positioned yourself from his lap to kneel on the floor.

“Go ahead, baby. Suck my cock off like a good girl.” He cooed, stroking the top of your head.

You gave him a sweet smile before giving his tip a lick, making sure to never break eye contact. Rafe threw his head back, whispering a curse under his breath. You grinned at his reaction, ego growing higher as you wrapped your lips around his head.

Rafe almost thanked the sky above for your mouth. He has always been proud of having you. A smart, rich, and polite girl; a literal angel, as others have said. But they don’t know what kind of a freak you are behind those innocent dresses and wide eyes. None of them know except Rafe, and he intends to keep it that way.

You kept sucking him off, pushing yourself to take in as much as you can even as tears brimmed your eyes. You wrapped your slender fingers around the area that you couldn’t take, loving the way he tasted.

Rafe’s head was pulled backward, his chest rising and falling heavily while he muttered praises and curses. He was on the verge of his release when he suddenly put both of his hands on your shoulder.

“No, I want to cum in your pussy.” He panted, pulling you up by the arms. He gently pushed you against the couch so that you were now the one sitting. He stood up and hurriedly removed his clothes, your eyes in awe while watching him. “Like what you see, baby?”

You grinned, pulling your shirt upwards, and expertly removed the clasp of your bra. Rafe’s eyes were trained on your breasts as soon as you freed them, but he wasted no time removing your shorts and panties at the same time.

“Fuck. There’s my pretty pussy.” His eyes were steadily trained on your cunt as he leaned down at eye level. It was as if he was hypnotized as he brought one hand to your folds, gliding his forefinger up and down. He smirked when he noticed the thin sheer wetness in the middle.

“Rafey…” You whined.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me already.”

“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” Rafe chuckled amusedly. “Patience, darling. ‘Gotta prepare you nicely first.”

He continued to tease you, never touching your clit or pushing a finger inside of you. With each moment that you grow irritated, the wetness of your womanhood increases. When Rafe sensed that you were about to curse him off, he suddenly inserted two fingers in, making you gasp.

“Shit.” You breathed, soft moans leaving your lips as he curled his fingers before pumping faster.

Rafe placed his thumb on your clit, making you squeal in both surprise and pleasure. You swore you almost saw stars when he did so, one hand reaching downwards in an attempt to grab onto the couch for support while the other reached for his wrist.

He ticked his tongue at the action, using his free hand to pull your hand away.

Rafe lowered his head until your legs were leveled with his face, inhaling your scent while still fingering you. He brought his lips closer until you could feel his breath near your folds, making you shiver.

“Rafe, please fuck me… fuck.” You pleaded.

“I will, darling. But I have to taste this pussy first.” Without warning, he removed his thumb from your clit, replacing it with his lips. You screamed at the contact, suddenly thankful that no one could hear you.

Rafe continued to play with your clit, tugging the small nub with his teeth while pushing his tongue inside you. You were almost crying from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling of your boyfriend’s mouth and fingers in the same area was almost too much.

You were loudly moaning his name, hips lifting on their own as you pushed yourself closer to Rafe’s mouth. Your boyfriend grinned against you, his pride increasing with the knowledge that only he can make you feel this way.

You almost screamed in frustration when Rafe abruptly pulled away, licking his lips to savor your juices. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, Rafe, fuck me please.”

“Always so polite.” He snickered, loving the way that your eyes turned hazy from all the pleasure. “Who am I to turn down my baby’s request, hm?”

With a swift move, Rafe quickly positioned his cock to align with your cunt before pushing himself in with one go. You gasp at the intrusion, shock, and ecstasy filling your body. Having sex with Rafe so many times has made you familiar with his size, but you still weren’t prepared for the amount of stretching that your womanhood would have to make to accommodate him.

He wasted no time and began thrusting, slowly at first to let you adjust.

“Shit. Your cunt is hugging me perfectly.” He gasped, building up his tempo.

You were too speechless to reply, the only thing that you could do was moan and grab his chest. Rafe placed one hand on your hip, and the other grabbed both your wrists to pull your hands above your head.

Sweats, gasps, and whines were the only sounds heard. Rafe’s hips collided with yours with strength, making you scream out his name. He admired the beads of sweat on your forehead, your skin illuminated by the moonlight. He always believed that you were the prettiest girl on this planet. And seeing you at this moment, naked and dewy with your face twisted in enjoyment, he knew he was right.

“Come on, darling. Give it to me.” He praised, knowing that you were close with how tightly you were squeezing him.

You mumbled his name over and over again, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his hips to pull him closer. Rafe cursed after seeing your action, thrusting harder and faster to chase both of your highs.

You were a crying mess underneath him, pleasure surging through all parts of your body. You opened your eyes slightly, admiring Rafe’s face before feeling the pressure on your lower abdomen.

“Fuck, Rafe. I’m gonna cum.”

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Cum for me. I want to feel you around my cock.” He urged, never breaking the pattern of his thrusts.

You screamed after a few more pushes, your vision blurring slightly as you squirted around him. Rafe came after you, gasping as he felt his warm liquid mix with your own inside your pussy.

You two were panting against each other, Rafe still inside you as he caught his breath. “You alright?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You couldn’t reply, still breathing heavily but nodded instead. Rafe started to slowly pull out of you, making you whine.

“No, Rafey. Stay.” You pouted.

He smiled sweetly, lifting you so that he could sit on the couch without separating from you.

The two of you lay there, soft breaths coming out of your mouths while Rafe hugged you against his chest as you keep him warm in your cunt.

“Tired, baby?” He asked you after a while, noticing your droopy eyes.

You nodded, feeling warm against his body despite being exposed to cool air.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Rafe whispered, kissing you softly on the forehead.

Before closing your eyes, you vowed to sneak out with his yacht more open.

#rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader smut

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genshin-impact-updates · 9 days

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Pure Spirit, Heed My Wish

"Sigewinne's the most unique out of all the Melusine friends my parents know. They say that she was a guest at our place a long time ago, and that she held my hand, supporting me when I had just learned to walk. Many years have passed since, and I've become an adult — she, on the other hand, is just as meticulous and enthusiastic as ever."

— Emilie

◆ Name: Sigewinne

◆ Title: Wondrous Dragonheir

◆ Melusine Head Nurse

◆ Vision: Hydro

◆ Constellation: Nereides

The infirmary is the warmest place in the Fortress of Meropide, where the sun fails to shine.

Rumor has it that the head nurse, who manages said infirmary, is also its founder. The Fortress has changed hands in chaotic circumstances several times over the centuries, but there has always been a tacit agreement amongst all who live here not to harm the medical staff in any way.

The reason for this is simple — few doctors could endure treating criminals and staying in such a place for long.

Fewer still would be as clement, cute, conscientious, and considerate as Sigewinne.

There was once an inmate whose life Sigewinne saved after he had been gravely injured while causing trouble, who then proclaimed her to be an emissary of the heavens — an "angel of salvation" — sent to bring redemption to criminals, even saying that he would preach this far and wide on her behalf.

"That's a bit much, isn't it?" The head nurse shook her head, her horns bobbing along.

"I won't ask what you did wrong before saving you, but you'll still have to finish serving your sentence once you've healed up," she said, hands on hips. "Flattery's not getting you anywhere!"

#genshin impact #genshin impact updates #genshin impact news #official #sigewinne #hoyolab fucking broke? so you're getting the shitty twitter version until i wake up tomorrow sorry

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader

As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!

Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’

[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]

There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.

Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.

You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.

“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.

“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”

“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”

“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.

The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.

“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”

“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”

His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.

“Perfect match.”

“Excuse me?”

He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.

Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.

“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”

The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.

A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.

“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.

The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.

“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.

“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”

A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.

“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.

“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”

Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.

“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.

He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.

“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”

For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.

“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”

“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.

You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:

“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”

Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.

“Who’s a buffoon?”

The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.

“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.

“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”

As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:

“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”

“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”

“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”

Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.

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ghostgirl101 · 5 months

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Oliver Quick Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Watched this recently and got too many ideas because it's what I do 😀 if you've got any requests for the Saltburn crew then drop them in my inbox and I'll get round to them. Have fun reading- just know that there are obviously spoilers for the Saltburn movie here, so if you haven't watched it, zip to the cinema and come back 😎 or don't.

☓• It's hard to know where to start with Oliver... all I can say is that once you're in his sights, you're never getting out of them. Big never. Even if he has to wait years to get what he wants, he'll wait, and he will get it. And of course, the it we're talking about here is lucky you. So lucky you 🙃

☓• Say goodbye to your close friends and possibly your family if they're taking up too much of your time or happen to see through his harmless, quiet, normal act to something a lot darker and obsessive tainting his pure blue eyes every time they latch onto you. No one's managed to get in his way yet, and it stays that way.

☓• The first unknowing encounter with Oliver must have been somewhere around Oxford Uni, where you all go to and study. Maybe in the library, outside talking to friends - doing practically anything and making it look amazing and beautiful and something to be wanted above anything. He watches you a lot, a lot a lot, before you bump into each other, because the meeting has to be perfectly natural and it's his only chance to start things off on the right foot.

☓• Coincidences happen a lot and no one can be called out on them, because nothing seems to be wrong yet. You'll end up spending the majority of your time with him, maybe even without realising, whilst he finds out ways to know more about you and get closer to you. Oliver's not so good when it comes to talking about himself, telling you with one of his awkward but earnest half-smiles that he's not half as interesting, and so the conversation ends up steering back to you. From family life to friends, growing up, hobbies, favourite colour, tell him anything and everything. Because he won't forget a single thing.

☓• He's easy with where you want to go to hang out too, so long as he's there. You could just be talking with your friends in the nearby pub or at a party where the invite was extended to him as he's with you, or studying together at the library. Ignore the weird looks from Michael.

☓• But what Oliver prefers above all that is just being together and alone, maybe in your dorm room, or just out somewhere at a park or at the bridge, sitting and talking, opening yourself up more and more to him. This boy is an incredible listener. If your voice trails off when you become self-conscious of how much you're rambling, all you'll get in response is Oliver blinking out of his trance and giving you a calm smile and a shrug. "No, it's fine, I don't mind. Carry on."

☓• Number one supporter, naturally. Oliver tries to be the best friend and more, so hard, with you. He'll be anything you want and need him to be without you even having to mention it. Whatever club or team you're on, he'll give you a little wave and small grin from the sidelines... take a few pictures when you're not looking. For safekeeping.

☓• It can get more than a little frustrating for him when you're distracted by your other 'friends' at Oxford, even if it's something as small as looking over essay answers and revision notes with Farleigh. There's always a back-and-forth thing happening between those two, and so when Farleigh starts becoming friendly with you and outrightly mocking with Oliver, to you, all that will happen is Oliver giving him an unblinking, blank look that looks a touch too cold and repressive, before he ignores him. And that's all you'll ever know about it.

☓• If you happen to stick up for Oliver when someone brings up how different and odd he is, a bit awkward to talk to and a cheapskate or whatever, he'll never get over it. You stuck up for him. That just proves that he was right about you, from the second his dark gaze latched onto your unknowing self just a few weeks ago. He was right. You're... perfect.

☓• There's so much good about Oliver, that if you ever hear anything different, it's hard to actually believe it. It's just Farleigh causing trouble, or gossip that has gotten out of hand again, not actual hints of something deeper bubbling beneath the surface. Oliver would never watch you outside your dorm room at night, what are they on about? And when Oliver hears of them too, or gets the worries out of you when he instantly notices that something's up, he'll act as effortlessly, convincingly confused as you are. If there's the slightest bit of proof in the accusation, he'll cover it up with a flawless explanation that swerves away from him and onto someone else within a second, while still seeming without grudges towards anyone. "You shouldn't listen to them, they're just trying to get in your head. Or maybe they want you for themself or something. I mean, I can understand that. Completely."

☓• You will eventually notice just how clingy Oliver can get when he seems to be everywhere around you, and you might be looking for a moment to yourself. If you gently bring it up, he'll reluctantly go on the promise that you'll text him back, which gives him time to change tactics. He will go as far as saying someone in his family died, or as small as admitting that the isolation from everyone who is so different to him in this place makes him feel a bit broken up. Maybe he should leave? And you, being you, encourage him to stay on and hang out with you and your friends, and boom, his back in.

☓• It's so easy for Oliver to subtly manipulate his surroundings and its people. Everyone, except for you. With you, the manipulation comes in seemingly natural events, nothing too forward. Because what he likes the most is you coming to him with whatever, problems, thoughts, feelings. Then he's done his job, and everything else that will build up a beautiful, beautiful relationship, will slip into place for him.

☓• Again, everything has to be perfect, and it will be. Maybe your first kiss with him is on your birthday, or out somewhere nice as a treat with some other rich friends. Or it's just you two having a movie marathon or pulling an all-nighter. Every time, he'll inch closer with little sweet, honest lines spoken in a calm, low tone, his eyes locked with yours and scarcely blinking. "Do you know how loveable you are?" "I think that your smile is something to live for." "I never want to be without you."

☓• Oliver will edge closer and closer, holding hands, brushing your hair back from your face when you're reading with a tender touch, meeting your eye and not letting go until you smile in bashful amusement and look away. He'll meet you outside all your classes and bring you your favourite drinks and study notes that he got from his work, so that you never fail an exam. Oliver's a lifesaver, one of your closest friends, someone who's always there for you to be whatever you need whenever you need. A great comforter, supporter, study buddy, moral support, you name it. He created and adapted himself to be boyfriend material especially for you, and so it happens, and he's won, like he knew he did the second he saw you. Now he can be as clingy and overly affectionate and outwardly obsessive as he wants, all day, all night, tirelessly. And don't think he won't.

☓• Straight-up, he's a starer. And I mean starer when you think you're alone in your room, starer when you were with a fling or someone you might have been interested in before... before Oliver worked his magic behind the scenes. Now it's a lot easier to, when you're in a relationship, because he can pass off his staring as something romantic, which it kind of is, without the dangerous obsessiveness lacing it. You'll look up from your phone or wake up in the night to see Oliver's eyes on you in wonder and something else you can't quite place, before you smile and ask him what it is. It's always the same answer with the same soft, adoring smirk that manages to make your cheeks flush with colour and smile back. It's not 'nothing.' It's always, just, "You."

☓• Once he's got things how he wanted them, if anything tries to ruin it, they will have literal hell to pay. He did not come this far for nothing. It's an agonising process of waiting and being patient so he wouldn't scare you off, getting gradually and naturally closer to this point. So whether it's Farleigh telling his tales or playing off his tricks, or someone else pointing out the unobvious obvious, good luck to them, because one of his special coincidences will fall right onto their heads.

☓• And if, by a twisted turn of events, you walk into one of Oliver's schemes, and see flecks of his true, darker self and violent, delusional side unearthed from his usually calm and easy way, he'll beg you with racking tears and heaving breaths and literal vomit to stay. He'll do anything, just as he has been doing anything, for you. What he's saying and doing is suddenly terrifying, and whether or not you want to accept him as freely is your choice, but if not, Oliver won't go away. He'll wait some more if you manage to escape his grasp this time. See you in a few years as an adult, maybe. When you're vulnerable in different ways and water's gone under the bridge. He'll slip right back into your life like he was always meant to be there, with his earnest, devoting praise and comfort and support, and that's Oliver Quick's life come back together yet again, with you lost at its centre. Trapped.

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elllisaaa · 3 months

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LOST THE GAME - JAKE. S

SUMMARY : what was supposed to be the least interesting class of your semester turned out to be the most passionating one when you met jake sim and his tendency to tease. but two could play a game, right ?

-> pairing : college mate!jake x fem!reader

-> words count : 15k

-> genre : college au, smut

-> warnings : switch!jake x switch!reader, teasing, dirty talk, sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praising, dry humping, marking, hair pulling, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl', 'good boy' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, quick mention of choking, fingering, begging, riding, panties sniffing, jake is down bad for yn (yes, that's a warning), nipple play, jake is asking consent a lot and it's sexy.

+ the way i'm depicting jake does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : here we are, my not so little gift for you for valentine's day ! i hadn't planned something at first, but it turned out that i finished this not too long before so i decided to post it on this day. it's the first really long fic that i'm posting here, but i enjoy writing them so much ! shoot out to @xhdream that started it all by sending me a gif of jake during our christmas family gathering and messed with my mind 😭😔. this ended up being really self-indulgent but i hope you'll like it as much as i do !

-> masterlist | enha masterlist

PLAYLIST

🎵 lost the game by two feet

🎶 meddle about by chase atlantic

🎵 i'll make you love me by kat leon

🎶 more by i.m

🎵 it's not easy for you by misamo

🎶 more than friends by isabel la rosa

Leaving all your friends and family for college was not easy. Your freshman year was really hard, having to manage your classes and doing a part time job to be able to afford your rant, and being in a brand new city you didn’t know anything about, nor had any friends to help and support you. You felt on the edge of giving up just before your finals, but that was when you met your best friend, Yeji. She really was a gift, always smiley and willing to cheer you up. Without her, you really didn’t know if you could have continued university, or got your life back together at all.

But now, here you were, currently in your third year at college, happy and confident about your future. And you really didn’t want to mess it up, so you remained serious, and worked hard to have the grades you got. Even if for some people, psychology was not a “real” major, it was for you, and it was what you wanted to do for your whole life. And you sometimes wondered how they could say that when you had to take science classes. At first, you were not so excited to follow them, thinking that it would be just another thing you would have to study just for the exams and never remember again, but someone made you change your mind.

Jake was not in the same major as you, that was why you didn’t see him before the start of this semester but he immediately caught your eyes. Well, it would have been hard not to notice him, or you would’ve been blind, because he was really good looking. He was the cliché of the hot college fuckboy, the one so many rumors were spread about, the one who had supposedly hooked up with half of the campus.

Despite that, you were not one to have prejudices against people you didn’t know, so you gave him a chance, mainly because he was attractive and exactly your type, and also because he seemed to be the only other student to be invested in this class. Surprisingly, he was always participating, sometimes before you even had the chance to do so, and he was doing his work everytime. And so on, he became even more your type because smart people were automatically the most fuckable in your eyes.

However, you tried to not let your interest in him show. It seemed like he already had an ego, you were not here to fuel it even more. So you stuck to staring at him during your shared classes, under the excuse that you were only closely listening to his answers to your professor's questions. That was until he suddenly decided to sit down by your side on one random Thursday.

“- Is that seat taken, or can I ?”

You lifted your head, even if you had grown familiar to the sound of his voice by now, seeing Jake, waiting for your approval with a grin on his face. Well, he was asking kindly and really, you could not refuse to have your crush sit with you. You simply nobbed, taking off your bag from the chair so he could sit down.

“- Thanks !

- No problem.”

Regardless of the confidence you were trying to keep on, you were feeling incredibly nervous. It was the first time you and Jake were this close. Sure, you had talked to each other before, picking up on something one of you had said in class to add other information or to correct each other. But that was it, nothing more. So to suddenly have him so close to you was very strange, but at the same time, you were giddy, like a high-schooler confessing her love to her first crush.

“- Did you understand the paper we had to read for today ?”

Jake's voice straddled you as you were lost in your thoughts, but you quickly composed yourself again, doing your best to hold his intense gaze.

“- Yeah. Or at least, I think so, but I struggled a little bit at first. Why did you want to know ?

- Well, you’re the only one except me that seems to give a damn about this class, and you’re smart, so I thought that maybe you could help me, because I didn’t understand anything !”

You chuckled at the defeated tone he used for his last words, perfectly getting his disappointment of not assimilating a new thing immediately, it was frustrating. But at the same time, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of Jake having noticed you. And he was saying you were smart on top of that ? What started as a not so good day was turning into a much better one.

“- Of course, no problem. We have some time left before Mr. Lee arrives, so maybe we could go over the paper and you stop me every time there’s something you didn’t get ?

- Works for me ! Thank you Y/N.”

The way he said your name had you fighting demons not to blush and try to concentrate on bacteria and immune system instead of his bright smile and beautiful face. But it was not easy to stay focused when he brought his chair closer to yours so he could have a better view of the drawings you were making to materialize what was explained in the paper. You could feel Jake’s warmth through your clothes and it was so hard to resist the urge to turn your head and just look at him. Thanks to some magical forces surely, you got to the end of it when your professor entered the classroom, greeting his students.

“- It’s so much easier when you explain everything to me, you’re very good at that, you know ?”

And he was at it again with the compliments, and you were trying to repress a stupid smile from eating up your face once again, whispering when you answered him in order not disturb Mr. Lee, who had already started today’s lesson.

“- I’m glad I could help.”

Jake's response came in the way of a smile before the two of you started to take notes of what your professor was saying, not having much time to discuss throughout the class. These lectures were always very intense but also very interesting, so you didn’t mind the fast rhythm with which you were approaching each subject. You thought about asking Jake his number at the end of the class, just in case he had another problem with something related to this class of course ! A few years back, you wouldn’t even have dared to consider something like that, but right now you were thinking “why not ?” If anything, he would say no and end of the story. So as you were packing up your things, you started to get your phone out when you were interrupted by Jake once again.

“- I have a class now, but if I could have your number it would be very helpful, because there’s still some things I can’t get a grasp of, if you don’t mind of course !”

You smiled back, taking his phone and typing your number in the new contact he had created before handing the device back to him.

“- Actually, I was going to give it to you anyway. You’re pretty smart too, and you’re funny so it’s not a waste of time.”

Jake chuckled as he put his phone in his back pocket after checking the time. He was going to be late to his next class, but who cared when he finally got to talk to the girl he had a crush on since the beginning of the year ? Certainly not him.

“- I’ll make it worth it, promise ! Huh, I really have to go but I’ll text you later pretty.”

With a wink, he was gone and left you behind with a beating heart and a stupidly big grin stretching out your lips.

From this day on, Jake sat next to you every time you shared your science classes. And even if the seat was empty last week because Yeji was sick that day, she happily let the guy take her place with a knowing look on her face, wiggling her eyebrows every time he walked in and greeted you. You acted annoyed every time, but really, it was funny how supportive she was - sometimes, you worried that she was more excited about the whole situation than yourself.

“- Is it Jakey again ?”

You rolled your eyes as you picked up your phone from the kitchen counter where Yeji and you had spread all your work sheets and textbooks to study. It was Sunday, and you often reserved it to work together and then relax with a movie, while doing each other's skincare and gossiping.

When you first came to the city for college, you had rented a small apartment with another girl you didn’t know. At the end of your freshman year, she left and since Yeji was searching for a new place to stay because her last roommate was insufferable, you had proposed to her that you live together. She really was the best friend you could ask for, and also the best roommate. But sometimes, just sometimes, you wished she didn’t know you so well as she fake gaged when you laughed at the last text Jake had, indeed, sent to you. You wrote a quick answer before going back to your cognitive psychology assignment.

“- And what if it is him ? You’re jealous ?

- Of a man ? Never !”

Both of you laughed at her remark, not able to hold back yourselves after being focused for such a long time and having spent the whole afternoon studying.

“- No but seriously, what do you think of him ?”

You were not one to let other people direct the way you acted or lead you on to choices you wouldn’t have made by yourself but you valued Yeji’s opinion, and she always had something to say about your crushes. Sensing that the subject was no longer meaningless, your best friend put her pen down, thinking for some time about your question.

“- Well, you know all the rumors about him right ?”

You nodded. Of course you knew, especially since you started to talk with Jake two months ago, you paid a lot more attention to the conversations of other students about him. They were all saying that he was a typical frat boy, going to parties, not caring about going to school, and fooling around with every girl he found attractive. But you already knew that a part of that was not true. He was often sending you some parts of texts or lessons he didn’t understand for you to explain, he was really invested in what he was doing, and he had even told you that he was not here to skip classes.

“- And you also know that Lia is friends with his roommate Jay ?”

Again, you nobbed. You knew Lia too, because she was one of Yeji’s childhood friends. You were a little less close to her but she really was a very sweet girl, and you loved to spend time with her.

“- She told me that Jake was not how everyone is depicting him. Apparently, it’s only because he’s spending time with Heeseung and his frat, and because he hooked up with a random girl at a party during our freshman year. And from there, people created him a reputation, and he never really tried to deny it because, well, everyone would assume that based on his looks and who he’s hanging out with.

- I guess, yeah. I thought that too when I first met him. And that doesn’t surprise me, he cares too much about his studies to be a frat boy.”

Yeji laughed again, detaching her long, ginger, hair from the hair clip that was holding them in place.

“- I agree, he’s too smart too, and too sweet with you. He genuinely seems like a good guy, and not every guy out there gets your humor so…”

You threw a random highlighter in her direction, pretending to be vexed by her comment.

“- And I didn’t see you smile so much since that dick left you this summer, so I sadly have to validate him.”

Yeji let out a defeated sigh while shaking her head, making you smile again. It was true that you had a hard time because of your “ex”, if you could really label him like that. He was just a guy you met at a party just after your finals were over, and from there, you started to be in some kind of situationship, that was becoming serious for you, but not for him apparently since he left you over a single text and not even an apology. But you were fully over it now, and ready to welcome someone in your life - and bed - again.

“- I’m glad you’re thinking the same.”

She simply gave you a smile before stretching her arms over her head, repressing a yawn as she did so.

“- I’m thinking about wrapping up this study session and getting on to the movie.

- Oh my god, yes, thank you ! My brain stopped working one hour ago !”

You both started to tidy up the counter, putting your sheets back in your binder and your pens back in your case.

“- You order while I’m hopping in the shower ?

- No problem ! Pizza and sushi ?

- You know me so well !”

You giggled as Yeji disappeared in her room, closing the door behind her and letting you finish with your mess. When your phone received another notification, you picked it up again, not holding back your smile when you saw Jake’s contact name popping up this time.

jakey : wow ! working on a sunday ? you have a stronger will than me ! you : ahah only because i’m not doing it alone ! otherwise, i would lie in my bed all day, not doing anything lmao what are you doing ? jakey : [attachement : 1 image] just relaxing while watching a movie it’s pretty boring tho…

You were not expecting this photo to be a shirtless one of Jake, sprawled out on his bed, and looking at the camera with a pout on his face. You had to pick up your jaw from the floor and mentally stop yourself from drooling over his abs, and his chest, and his arms, and the gray sweatpants hanging low on his waist. Was that flirting ? It was, for sure. Why would he send you that if it wasn’t ? But how could you respond to that ? Sending a picture of the same type seemed a little too provocative, and you didn’t want to interpret the signs wrong. If he was doing this after only two months, what would he be willing to do in a few weeks ? You were curious to see how far he would go to seduce you.

jake : why are you not answering pretty ? too busy checking me out ? 😉 you : in your dreams. jake : oh yeah, don’t worry about that, my dreams are already filled with your cute face.

You didn’t dare ask him what he meant by that, busying your mind by ordering your dinner and trying to get the image of Jake’s chest out of your mind.

The whole task of not getting your hopes up revealed to be a lot more difficult than you thought it would be when the universe seemed to team up against you. Or at least, you saw it like that as your professor was listing the groups for the new project of the semester.

“- Y/N and Jake, I want you two together for this. Usually, I’d put you in a weaker group to help but I’m very curious to see what you can do when working hand in hand. And that’s all for today everyone, I’ll see you next week and don’t forget to tell me the angle your presentation will address.”

You couldn’t believe that Mr. Lee really did this. It was not that you were horrified by the idea of having to work with Jake, it was the contrary, really, but it also meant spending a lot of time together, because you wanted your presentation to be perfect. You would have to go to the library together, or go work at his dorm, or invite him to your apartment, and all that will certainly not help you to stop your little - or rather big - crush on him, and neither will it help you to stay focused.

“- You don’t seem so delighted by the news, pretty.”

His voice interrupted your thoughts, and you lifted your head to meet his pouty face, the one he always had on when he was trying to get your attention. It was cute. And his puppy eyes were too. And there, you were feeling all fuzzy inside once again.

“- Who would be delighted to know that we have a presentation that counts for half of the final note to do before the end of the month ?

- When you put it this way… But I was not really talking about that.”

You sighed as you stood up, checking the time because you had to join Lia and Yeji at your favourite café soon.

“- I know Jake. I have to go but I’ll text you later to let you know when I am free so we can start to work on that. Bye.”

Jake stood there, mouth slightly open as if he wanted to add something but couldn’t with how fast you left. All this made him wonder if he read the signs wrong or not. He didn’t imagine the way you were often staring at him. He didn’t miss the few times your eyes flicked down to his lips when he was talking to you. He didn’t imagine the way you were shivering every time he touched you, intentionally or not. He didn’t miss how you were always smiling when he was teasing you, even if you tried to look annoyed.

Or was it only pretending ? Jake didn’t know anymore. But you were not the type of girl to do that, right ? He watched you from afar since he saw you for the first time in this science class, noticing how kind you were with everyone, how funny you were, how pretty you looked, and he also noted how many boys tried to hit on you, and how many of them you sent away.

That was why he approached you as a friend. Because at least, even if he didn’t succeed in charming you, you could be friends. And it worked until now, you were getting closer and he even saw you blush one or two times when he made a flirty joke. So he didn’t understand why you were like that today. Maybe it was only a bad day for you, you seemed off and didn’t participate as much as usual. It should be that, yeah. That, or Jake was a total fool.

“- You know the rules Y/N ! You’re late, you pay !”

You sighed but got your wallet out. You were rarely late anyway, so it was not often that you had to pay for the three of you. Your two friends had already ordered your favourite drink and you made your way to the counter to pay before returning to your table and finally relaxing for the first time since you woke up.

“- You seem exhausted today.”

You nodded at Lia’s word, taking a sip of your caramel latte before answering her indirect question.

“- I am. I’ve been running all day ! I was late to my first class because my bus times changed and I didn’t know, so I had to wait for the next one and you know Mr Kim, he hates it when we are late and he literally humiliated me in front of the whole class. Then, I realized that I had forgotten the assignment that I had to hand back for one of my lectures, so I had to rush home to get it on my lunch time and couldn’t eat. And the cherry on top is that Mr Lee paired me up with Jake Sim for our next presentation.

- Wow ! That’s a lot, my dear !”

You nodded again, leaning against Yeji’s shoulder to seek some affection and comfort.

“- Well, all that sucks, but I don’t see how having to spend more time with your crush can be a bad thing ?

- It’s not ! That’s the worst part, I think that he thinks that I don’t want to work with him because I was so dry when I talked to him today, and he looked like a kicked puppy and now I feel guilty.”

Lia reached over to stroke your arm and try to make you feel a little bit better. She knew that you could spiral about the smallest thing you were saying or doing sometimes, overthinking every interaction you had with other people.

“- Just apologize next time, and that should be good. This is nothing that you can’t fix.

- Why are you always right ?”

The blonde shrugged before taking a sip of her own drink, while Yeji led the conversation to how her own day went. But you couldn’t stop thinking about how Jake’s smile fell when he sensed that you were not as enthusiastic as him to work together. You took your phone out, opting to send him a text now, even if you knew that he would not answer right away because he still had some other classes.

you : i am free this weekend and wednesday afternoon to work on the project. and sorry if i was too harsh earlier, i just had a really bad day, it was nothing against you.

You shut off your phone, not expecting a notification to light up the screen just seconds after your last message, trying to hold back a smile from stretching your lips.

jakey : this weekend seems good, but i’m going back to my parents so we’ll have to facetime 😉 don’t worry about that pretty, i figured it was not me you were mad at i’m here if you need to talk. you : i’m good now, but thank you, you’re sweet i’m staying here so call me when you have a moment. and stop texting while you’re in class, idiot !

As he answered you again just to tease you, the weight on your chest flew away. Jake really was a sweet guy, you just couldn’t believe that he was interested in you. He was popular around the campus, whether because of all the rumors about him - mostly false, but they were spreading fast - or because he was incredibly handsome, and a lot of girls were after him, numerous of whom were prettier than you. That was why you had so much trouble understanding why he chose to text you so much. It was not like you to doubt yourself like that, but for some reason, Jake was making you really nervous. Maybe because it was the first time in a while you were really interested in somebody, past just physical attraction, and you didn’t want to fuck it up.

You read Jake's last text again, the one in which he was telling you that he was going to call you in five minutes, just the time for him to gather all the things he needed to work, and you couldn’t stop biting your nails. There was no logical reason for you to be so stressed out about facetiming with him, especially since it was only to talk about a school project, but you were. You checked your appearance in the little mirror above your desk one more time, but didn’t really get the time to fix your hair, your phone ringing straddling you as you picked up the call immediately, setting up the device against your laptop so it would stay in place without you needing to hold it.

“- Hi pretty !

- Hi Jake, how you doing ?”

You tried to ease your mind by making small talk with him, but you were distracted every now and then by how veiny his hands were, or by how comfortable his thigh looked to sit on, pressing your own together to stop the warmth spreading in your lower half. It was really not the moment to think about that, even if it was not the first time nor would it be the last.

“- Did you have an idea of how we could talk about this in an original way ? Because I’m warning you, I don’t want this to be only a boring, classical presentation.”

Jake's deep voice as he chuckled sent your mind to other places you shouldn’t go while working on a science group project.

“- I should have known you’ll be like this. I’ll send you the research I’ve done so far and you tell me if you see something interesting.”

This was enough to get you to concentrate back on what you had to do, and as soon as you chose your angle, you started to work properly, sometimes making comments that made the other laugh. However, Jake was not able to focus on the article in front of him, too immersed in the contemplation of your figure to get anything done.

Why did you have to wear this fucking top ? The straps wouldn’t stop falling off from your shoulders, showing a little more skin of your cleavage everytime it did, before you’ll put them in place again. And he could see that you were not wearing a bra, your nipples poking through the material of your top, allowing him to think about how much he wanted to see you naked, how much he wished he could touch them, lick them, suck on them. Your hair were put up in a messy ponytail, and with your glasses on and the serious look on your face, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to fuck you from behind for some obscure reasons.

And well, it seemed like he got a little too entranced by his own thoughts because Jake could feel his cock twitch in his pants. Swearing under his breath, he turned around in his desk chair to grab a pillow from his bed and put it on his lap. He didn’t want you to notice that he was hard, the risk being that you would take him for a pervert, which he maybe was but he didn’t want you to think that of him. He was trying to be the perfect, sweet guy. He wanted to take you on proper dates, and offer you flowers before initiating anything sexual between the two of you, even if it was you he saw every time he was jerking off, even if he sometimes had to go to the bathroom after your shared classes because the vision of your thighs in a skirt was enough to make him pop a boner.

Sadly, the shuffling sounds he made while reaching for his pillow intrigued you enough for you to lift your head and look what Jake was doing, seeing him quickly put the cushion on his lap before going back to taking notes about the article. You weren’t thinking about something naughty for once, only up to tease him a little bit.

“- What’s with the pillow ? Are you hard or something ?”

Your smirk widened when you saw his ears grow red. It was the first time you were witnessing a blushing Jake, and well, the view was interesting and too funny to let it slide.

“- Don’t tell me you really are ?”

Jake didn’t dare to look at you anymore, his gaze lost in contemplating one of the posters on his walls, so much more interesting right ? How could he explain himself to you without saying anything disrespectful, because the thoughts he was having just before weren’t really ones a well-mannered and polite guy should have. All he wanted right now was to be swallowed by the floor and bury himself six feet under.

“- What were you thinking about ? Me ?”

At the way Jake lowered his head even more, you figured that it was, in fact, you that got him hard. And what was supposed to be a silly little joke turned into a whole lot more. The way your laugh died in your throat when you realized made Jake feel even more nervous that he had really made you uncomfortable and that you wouldn’t want to see his face ever again.

“- I-I am really sorry… Please, don’t think that I'm a creep Y/N ! It’s just… Fuck ! You’re just so hot with your glasses, and your top won’t stop showing your skin, and that’s so embarrassing but it turns me on how smart you are and you explain to me all these things like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever come across.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard, and it was apparently showing as Jake spared you a glance and turned away immediately, groaning about how stupid he was, and that you could insult him as much as you wanted if it made you feel better.

“- Jake, just stop and look at me.”

It took some seconds for him to do so. It was a good thing you didn’t decide to end the call and your friendship with him already, he was not going to talk again and push his luck. When his eyes finally landed on you, he gulped loudly, trying to stop himself from getting turned on even more by the intense look you gave him.

“- Show me.

- W-What !?

- Show me what I do to you. And maybe I’ll show you what you’re doing to me.”

It was Jake's turn to not believe his ears. He must have looked so dumb, with his mouth hanging open and blinking repeatedly without saying anything because you chuckled cutely at him, pushing your chair back a little. And this time, when you let the straps of your top fall down, it was done on purpose, encouraging Jake to throw away that damn pillow and allow you to take in the appealing view of his boner. He was wearing these grey sweatpants again, and you couldn’t help licking your lips when you imagined how big his dick would be.

“- I wanna see more, this is not enough for me to forgive you.”

Even if his heart was about to burst out of his chest, a little smirk started to spread on his face. He wasn’t in a position to negotiate, but he liked the game you were leading him into. And your wish was his command. Without a word, Jake got rid of his shirt, throwing the piece of clothing away before looking back at you, happy to find you biting your lips while checking him out.

“- Like what you see ?

- Don’t be so cocky, you still have to make it up to me.

- And what do you want, pretty ?”

You pretended to think about it, using it as an excuse to drool over his abs a little longer. Because yeah, Jake was insanely hot, and even if you didn’t want him to see how affected you were, your drenched panties should be enough of a clue.

“- I want to see you jerk off for me. And I want you to tell me all the things you’ve been thinking about doing to me.”

Jake immediately stood up from his desk chair, throwing his sweatpants and boxer away while a quiet “fuck” fell from his lips, bringing a smirk to your face. This was getting way more interesting than science. When he sat down again, you only needed to tilt your head to the side for him to start stroking his cock slowly, releasing a sigh that had you pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure you felt building up. Your eyes couldn’t leave his hard dick, wondering about how good he would fill you up, how good he would feel inside of you.

“- So ? Aren’t you going to say anything ?”

The sound of his hand around his cock was starting to resonate in his room, spreading his pre-cum onto his shaft and going faster. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about you wanting to know his fantasies about yourself, sitting there so prettily but still fully clothed, while he was jerking off for your eyes only.

“- I-I thought a lot about… About fucking you, especially when you’re wearing these damn skirts.

- What about my skirts ? Don’t you like them ?”

If he wasn’t already blushing, he was definitely right now, not only because of his confession, but mostly because your pouty lips had him thinking about sliding his cock between them and he felt close to cumming already just because of this, just because you were playing with him and he loved it a little too much.

“- Fuck ! I do, I do, but they make me want to eat you out so bad, you have no idea how hard it is to sit next to you when you have them on.”

Jake closed his eyes for a few seconds, missing your proud smile as you watched his face scrunch up in pleasure. Since he did nothing but listen to you – and make you even more wet – you decided to reward him by removing your tank top, letting him finally see your breast.

“- You’re so hot Y/N… I wanna touch you…

- But you’ll just have to watch for now, okay ?”

For now ? Jake didn’t want to dig on what you meant, too entranced by the sight of your hands coming up to play with your nipples like he dreamt about doing, forcing another moan out of his mouth. How bad he wished he was the one massaging your boobs right now, how bad he wanted them in his mouth and your hands tugging on his hair.

“- I want to see more of you, pretty, please…”

Your eyes shifted from his dick to his face, your mouth watering at his fucked out look zeroing on your hands on your chest and fingers pinching your nipples. But hearing Jake beg for you was too pleasing, you needed more of his pleas, more of his airy moans. It was like a drug you were slowly becoming addicted to.

“- Beg some more, and I’ll think about it.

- Please Y/N, please, it’s not fair, I want to see your pussy, been dreaming about it, please.”

The fact that he didn’t even hesitate before doing it made your head spin with want, clouding your mind with lust as you got rid of your clothes too and sat down in front of the camera again.

“- Shit ! You’re so fucking hot pretty, making me want to fuck you so bad.

- I really wished you were here Jake, wished you could be the one touching me like that.”

As you were talking, you spread your legs for him, your feet sitting on your desk so he had a full view of your soaked pussy and your little fingers playing with your clit.

“- Is it enough for you ? Or do you want even more ?”

The way Jake’s tongue poked out of his mouth to lick his lips had you thinking back to him eating you out, and how good that would feel. A soft whimper escaped you when you slipped two fingers into your hole, too excited to wait for his answer. The way he was lazily stroking his cock was driving you insane, and you didn’t care if you looked desperate for him anymore, because you were and all you wanted was him right now.

“- Would feel so much better if it was your fingers…

- You don’t know how much I want that… You’re so wet, you’re dripping everywhere baby, fuck ! I want to lick your pretty cunt so bad….”

Another moan rolled off your tongue, closing your eyes for a second before opening them again because you didn’t want to miss the show Jake was putting on for you, his hand moving way faster now that he got to witness your naked body and the sinful vision you offered him. Your fingers couldn’t reach that spot you knew he could have, knew that his long hands would be perfect for you.

“- You want that pretty ? Want me to eat your pussy ?

- Oh god, yes ! Please Jake, I need it, I need you…”

The way you were saying his name, full of lust and desire, had him coming close to the edge already. He wished he was with you right now, wished he could hear you scream it again and again, wished you would beg him more and more.

“- I need you too, need you to sit on my cock and ride me.”

He was sitting in the perfect position for you to do just that, and the image wouldn’t leave your mind. You abandoned your nipple to play with your clit, your thighs shaking as you approached your climax.

“- I’m so close, feels so good…

- Me too… Cum for me Y/N.”

This was all you needed for your orgasm to wash over you, clenching so hard around your fingers you could barely move them anymore, circling your clit until it felt too much. Jake had to bite his lips and quickly remind himself that he was not home alone to hold himself back from releasing a litany of filthy moans as he spilled all over his abs, covering them in his release that you wanted to lick off from his body so badly.

During a moment, the only sound was the one of your heavy breathing, trying to get a hold of what just happened. As you were about to say something, a knock against your door interrupted your thoughts, eyes widening in surprise. You rushed to end the call with Jake, not even taking the time for a goodbye before dressing up quickly and trying to not look like you just had the best orgasm of your life as you opened the door of your bedroom.

“- Are you alright ? I thought I heard you scream…”

You smiled innocently at your Yeji, hoping that she would not interrogate you further because your legs were still weak and trembling and your face was obviously flushed.

“- Oh, yeah, I just hit my toes against the bed, that’s why.”

Luckily, she seemed to accept your excuse and you plopped down on your bed after closing the door behind you. What the fuck just happened ? Did you really have sex over a facetime with Jake ? It was usually something you dreamt about but that never occurred in real life. But with the way he was blowing up your phone, there was no way this was not true.

If you thought that this would ease the tension between the two of you, you were definitely wrong. Because when you saw each other for the first time after this one call, you felt ten times more attracted to him than before, almost getting wet just seeing him smirk at you as you entered the classroom. Sure, you had texted each other during the week, but neither one of you dared to address the subject directly, too embarrassed and afraid that it would ruin everything.

But you couldn’t lie : you wore the shortest skirt you owned today on purpose, only because you wanted a reaction out of him. And a reaction you got. As soon as Jake took in your entire outfit, his gaze darkened, mouth opening just enough for his tongue to dart out and lick his lips as if he wanted to devour you. If you weren’t wet already, now, your panties were definitely soaked with the way he was eying you up and down.

“- Hi Jake ! How was your weekend ? Must have been great to see your parents.”

He didn’t expect you to strike up such a casual conversation with him, but his mind was already far away, staring at the way your skirt rode up your thighs when you sat down, revealing even more of your skin. Jake had to turn his gaze away from you for a few moments to focus back on how to form sentences and answer you.

“- It was cool, yeah. And how was yours ? Did you have fun ?

- Actually, it was very fun. Something interesting happened.”

The grin stretching out your lips didn’t go unnoticed, Jake’s eyes zeroing on them and wishing he could kiss you right now, wishing he could have you grinding down on his lap and making out with him. He was snapped out of his daydreaming when Mr.Lee entered the classroom loudly, as usual.

“- Hello everyone ! Today you’re gonna work on your projects, and I’ll come see where all of you are so I can help you if you need it.”

Working together turned out to be way more complicated than you thought it would. Jake wouldn’t stop subtly caressing your arms or your hands, coming way more closer to you than necessary when you had something to show him, his thigh pressed against yours underneath the table. But two could play a game, right ? Too bad you dropped your pen on the floor and had to get up to pick it up. Too bad your skirt was so short that when you bent over, Jake could catch a glimpse of your panties. Too bad the hand you landed on his thigh to get his attention was so close to his crotch.

By the end of the class, you were just dying to come back home and relieve the unbearable heat you were feeling, almost squirming in your chair. If he had you wrecked with only that, you didn’t dare to think of how good he would actually be able to ruin you. But what was infuriating was how he didn’t even seem to be affected by the whole situation, despite his leg bouncing up and down, and his lips swollen from biting them. Still, you wanted to get back at him. After all, it was his fault if your call took another turn, and it was his fault your panties were ruined right now.

With how fast you escaped the classroom, Jake didn’t expect you to ask him to meet up, especially in an area he knew was unknown by most students. His body was tingling in anticipation, wondering what you were going to do next. Maybe he loved this little game too much, and maybe it was risky because he almost popped a boner in class, but it was worth it if it was for you.

“- What do you want pretty ?

- Give me your hand.”

You could see that he was confused, but he did what you asked nevertheless, so you could place something in his palm, closing his fingers around what seemed to be a piece of fabric, which was a little damp.

“- You feel how wet you made me ? This is what you do to me Jake. Now, enjoy your next classes.”

He watched you go away, definitely hard this time when he realized you really gave him your panties, and that the material was, in fact, soaked in your juices. Behind you, you heard him swear loudly and rush to his class to not be late, a smirk spreading on your lips. It was his turn to suffer a little.

Jake didn’t even take the time to greet his roommate when he came home, tracing a beeline to his room and locking the door before he dropped his bag on the floor. He got out your panties that were stuffed in his pocket, the fabric still a little wet. You were the reason he didn’t pay attention to his last class of the day, not able to understand a single thing his professor was saying. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to jerk off with them, couldn’t stop thinking of you going home with nothing underneath your skirt.

That was enough to make him hard all over again. Quickly, Jake got rid of his jeans and underwear, laying down on his bed with a hand already wrapped around his painfully hard dick. Without an ounce of shame, he lifted your panties to his nose, inhaling your scent and immediately moaning. He was already addicted to this, to you, to the way you were playing with him.

Jake could already feel his tip leaking pre-cum, and he knew that he was not going to last long, especially after you had edged him all day. It was as if he could still feel your hand on his thigh, too close to his crotch for his sanity. And every time you touched his arm to have his attention, it was like your fingers were leaving a trail of fire behind them, a shiver running down his spine every time your warmth left him.

The smell of your juices was driving him insane, sticking his tongue out to lick it off the material. He sped up his movements unconsciously, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, incapable of holding back his moans anymore. He didn’t care if Jay could hear him or not, he didn’t care if what he was doing was disgusting, if he was a creep for loving it all. You already tasted like heaven like this, and he knew that as soon as you’d let him go down on you for real, he would never want to pull out from your pussy ever again.

Once he could taste nothing but his own saliva that had completely drenched your panties, he wrapped it around his cock, the friction feeling so much better than his own hands, but not coming close to what yours would feel, he knew it. His mind couldn’t stop drifting away to a sick scenario in which you were watching him do all that, in which you were telling him how disgusting he was, in which he was begging for you to touch him. The thought was enough to push him over the edge, moaning your name loudly as he came all over this stomach and your panties.

“- Fuck…”

Without a second thought, he reached for his pants on the floor, getting his phone out to take a picture of the mess he had made. The material was still wrapped around his cock, making sure you had a great view of his abs covered in his cum and his tip still leaking. As soon as he hit “send”, Jake plopped down on the sheets again, closing his eyes for a while. He knew he had to get up, take a shower and do his homework, but the only thing plaguing his mind was you. Only you.

Of course, the teasing didn’t stop there, neither of you being able to stop. You had sexted each other during classes, not paying any attention to the actual lesson, too busy telling the other the dirtiest things. It felt even better when Jake did it during your science class, blowing up your phone with messages filled with praises of how gorgeous you looked today, of how your outfit was suiting you perfectly, of how much he wished he could fuck you on your desk right now, of how much he just wanted to get out of here and show you how good he could make you feel.

You had not given up on your skirts and dresses, which were getting shorter and tighter as time went on. And Jake had not given up on putting his hand on your thigh, which was getting closer and closer to your core everytime you were sitting side by side. The flirting comments he whispered in your ears got more and more unhinged, and the pictures you sent to him got more and more revealing. Jake had started to save them in a locked file, but always making sure to send something back so it was fair - and not at all because he loved the idea of you drooling over his body, or touching yourself while looking at his nudes.

And even if Jake loved the game, he couldn’t wait for the moment he would finally have you. Because he was so close to breaking down the act when you sent him an audio message of you moaning his name, going on and on about how much you wished he was with you right now, about how much you needed him. It was late at night, and Jake was ready to go to sleep, but he was quick to slip his hand in his underwear, jerking off to the sound of your whines and begs that he listened to on repeat from this moment on. And he was seeing so clearly the sinful image of you fingering yourself that hadn’t left his mind since this video call, the same image that was imprinted in his memories.

He was almost ready to go out at 1am and come to your apartment, but he was too tired and mostly, he wanted to win, even if it was pointless because he knew that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. So he settled on sending you a video just when he was coming, while telling you how bad he wished you could be riding him right now, how bad he wished he could fill you up with his cum. And you replied with a close up of your wet pussy that ended up in his locked file.

It was also very fun to talk casually in front of everyone else, as if Jake wasn’t fucking you with his eyes, as if you hadn’t sent him another filthy text last night where you were calling him your good boy. The sexual tension between you and Jake was so high that neither Yeji or Jay could even bear to look your way without being disgusted - their words, not yours. And the way you were both always smiling, giggling and blushing everytime the other sent you something had your two friends desesperate for you to finally fuck each other and stop flirting in front of them - again, their exact words. You knew Yeji was happy for you and just liked to tease, but you were just as eager as her to get laid.

But you will not be the one to give up. You wanted Jake to surrender before you did. Why ? Just because it was much more fun that way. Hence why you were standing so close to Jungwon. And Jake was clearly not having it, watching the two of you from his seat in the classroom, jaw clenched and gaze burning a hole in your friend’s back. The way you were touching his arm and laughing at his jokes shouldn’t have made him jealous. After all, you were not his, you were not his girlfriend, and he didn’t even kiss you yet. But still, it didn’t stop him from wanting to swat Jungwon away from you when he hugged you.

Your innocent smile as you sat next to him and asked him how his day went so far did not help. He could see right through you, could see that you did that on purpose. And this time, it worked. Jake didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want this to stop, but he had to do it or he would go insane. While you were cautiously taking notes, he took his phone out, accustomed to texting you during class by now. During a little break, you looked at your phone and grinned seeing a new message from Jake, asking you to join him in the same corridor you gave him your panties a few weeks before. You had to bite your lips to not let a big smile invade your whole face, because you knew very well what it meant, your body tingling with excitement.

At this point, Jake had no self control anymore. All he wanted was you. All he needed was you. And he was not going to survive if he didn’t actually have you in the next few minutes. However, a small part of him was anxious, overwhelming him with the doubt that maybe, just maybe, you really only wanted the game, and not him. He should have heard your footsteps resonating in the empty hallway, but he was into his thoughts and only did acknowledge your presence when you came into his view, not letting him utter a word before you grabbed him by his jacket and kissed him. His brain stopped working, wide eyed and not moving until you let him go.

“- Are you okay ?”

Jake shook his head at you, before reaching to grab your waist, pushing you against the nearest wall, lips only inches away from yours.

“- No… You’ve been driving me crazy since the first day Y/N, I want you.

- Then take me.”

That was all he needed to lean in and kiss you again, harder, messier as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You moaned against his lips, tugging him closer to you by his jacket and he took the hint, pushing his body impossibly close to yours. The way he was kissing you, as if he had an insatiable hunger for you, had you wet in seconds, and you could feel his boner pressing against your thigh, an obvious proof that you were just as desperate for this to happen.

Neither one of you was thinking about the fact that you were in a hallway, and that anyone could walk in on you, heavily making out. It didn’t matter to Jake, too lost in the taste of your lips and tongue against his to care about anything else. He finally had you all for himself, finally had you where he wanted, finally had a taste of you. And he already knew that he was going to get addicted, that he wouldn’t want anyone after you because it was like you were made for him. Eventually, you needed to breathe and had to detach yourself from his lips, Jake chasing yours and letting a quiet whine escape him when you started to grind your hips against his.

“- Fuck… Do you feel how bad I need you pretty ?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself with making sentences, not when he was holding your gaze and all you could see in his eyes was lust and desire. This look alone made you want to drop on your knees for him right now, and the way he started to pepper your neck with his kisses didn’t help either, taking a hold of his hair and moving faster against him.

“- I need you too Jake… Need you to use me…

- Don’t say that if you don’t want to get fucked for everyone to see.”

His voice had dropped lower, his hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck where you knew for sure he had already left some hickeys. And he didn’t feel guilty at all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, even if you technically weren’t. Jake knew that if he didn’t leave now, he would never have the strength to do so.

“- I have to go pretty…

- I know…”

You knew but you kissed him again anyway, hoping that the taste of his lips against yours would linger for as long as possible. When Jake finally had the courage to stop you, he was already ten minutes late for his next class and cock hard as a rock in his pants, but who cared if he got to have you all needy and desperate for him - as if he wasn’t just as needy and desperate for you.

“- Come over at mine tonight, okay ? I’ll kick Jay out, and I’ll be all yours pretty.

- Okay, text me later ?

- I will.”

Jake pressed one last kiss on your forehead before he started to run for his class, praying that it would be enough for him to calm down and stop thinking about all the things he was going to do to you.

Jake was probably more nervous right now than he had ever been in his entire life, and he had had many situations to be anxious about. However, the fact that you were going to come over in less than five minutes made his palms sweat and his heart beat faster. He didn’t really know why he was feeling so panicked, because you obviously showed him on numerous occasions how much you were yearning for him too, there was no way you would stand him. But if he did something wrong ? If it was not what you had expected and you decided that you didn’t want to see him again after that ?

This last idea in particular was running in his head. Because he didn’t want to have you just for one night, he didn’t want to fuck you and then let you walk away as if he wasn’t crazy over you, as if you didn’t make him feel shy everytime you smiled at him. But the more he was thinking about it, the more his heart ached at the scenario. So he stuck to trying to distract himself on his phone until you arrived.

He didn’t really do anything in particular, didn’t litter the whole place with rose petals and candles, but everything was cleaned perfectly and he even cooked so you had something to eat if you happened to be hungry. It was strange to be suddenly so anxious about meeting up with you. Because he was not nervous when he texted you all his fantasies about you, he was not nervous when he sent you pics and videos of his dick, he was not even nervous when he made out with you in this corridor later. But now, he could feel his hands shaking as he tried his best to open the door for you without looking like a complete idiot. But how was he supposed to stay calm and collected when you were standing at his door, wearing a little black dress that took his breath away.

“- Are you going to let me in or not ?”

Jake finally snapped out of his haze hearing your teasing tone, and he had to mentally restrain himself from letting his eyes wander all around your silhouette. And immediately, he forgot all about being anxious, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you inside, closing the door and pushing you against it quickly. Your whole body felt on fire from his hands on your waist alone.

“- I’ve waited so long for this, pretty, wanted you since the first day.”

Your own hands came to play with his hair, bringing his face closer to yours, grinning as he tried to focus on your eyes and lips at the same time.

“- Yeah ? Wanna show me how much ?

- I’m going to make you feel so good, make you scream my name for all the neighbors to hear.”

You licked your lips, your gaze locking with each other. Slowly, Jake’s face got closer to yours, one of his hands leaving your waist to rest on your cheek, tilting your head up so he could kiss you. He wanted all this to be perfect, wanted to take his time with you, wanted to hold you close to him and satisfy every one of your needs. But as soon as he got another taste of you, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more, all the teasing from these past months reaching its climax as he devoured you, his tongue passionately dancing with yours.

You couldn’t hide anymore the effect he had on you, the slightest brush of his thigh against yours having you sighing in his mouth. But you needed more, needed to feel more of him, more of his skin against yours. That was why you let your hands drop from his neck to the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers underneath the material, finally able to touch the beautiful abs you could only see in pictures and videos.

Jake’s eyes landed on the hickeys he left earlier, smirking at the fact that your dress didn’t hide them at all. And he made it his mission to cover the other side of your neck as well, his kisses trailing from the corner of your mouth, along your jawline and finally landing on the sensitive skin that he immediately started licking and nipping at. He was used to hearing your little whimpers of pleasure, but it was even more addicting to hear them when he was the one provoking them, even better when he could feel your hands tugging on his hair, even better when he could grip your ass at the same time.

“- Jake… I need you…

- Mh ? But you have me pretty…”

You could feel his grin against the skin of your neck as he kept sucking on it, his hand slipping underneath your dress to feel your bare skin. He could be as cocky as he wanted, in the end he was getting even more hard just by kneading at the plush flesh of your thighs. And you knew that, and you wouldn’t let his arrogance be. One of your hands came up to grab his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eyes while the other slid down to his crotch, squeezing his hard on enough for Jake to let out a gasp of both surprise and pleasure.

“- Don’t get so confident baby, you know how good I am at edging you and you don’t want that now, do you ?

- No…”

His voice was barely above a whisper, lips parted, breathing heavily and eyes wide open. You were sometimes getting more assertive in your texts, but to really experience it was different. He loved when you were begging him, but if you wanted him to play in your fantasy and dominate him, you could bet that he would be the best sub ever.

“- Good boy. Take me to your room.”

That was all Jake needed to carry you through his apartment, managing to get to his bed while kissing you again, and again, and again. He laid you down on his sheets, unaware of how hot you thought he was for being able to do that so effortlessly. You wanted to get on top of him and worship him all night. But for now, you simply watched him discarding his shirt and sweatpants on the floor, biting your lips at the sight.

“- Come here.”

And he did it, caging you in with his arms before going back to kissing you while you let your hands roam around his body, touching up every inch of skin you could reach - his back, his arms, his abs, everything. You needed to have his skin against yours, to really feel him. His own fingers were sliding underneath your dress, caressing your thighs, your ass, your lower back. But all these clothes were getting annoying, he wanted to see you, have your whole body in display for his gaze only. He needed to see in person what you had shown him so many times in pictures and videos.

“- Can I take these off ?”

You simply nodded, a sigh of relief coming out of your mouth when Jake helped you get rid of everything you were wearing, starting from your jacket that you didn’t even have the time to discard because he immediately jumped on you. Then, he threw away your little boots and your socks, and finally your dress, revealing the black, laced lingerie set you had on. Another smirk played on your lips when you saw shock as well as lust play in his eyes.

“- You like it ?”

His hands were almost shaking as he put them back on your body, grazing the skin with his fingers slowly. If he liked it ? He could feel his cock twitching at the view alone. You were like a sinful goddess, and you were here for him only, sprawled out on his bed, waiting for him to make you feel good.

“- Fuck, yes, you’re so hot pretty… Can I touch you ?”

You smiled at him, finding his carefulness even more attractive. As an answer, you took his hands in your own, guiding them to your breast, letting him massage it over your bra as he looked at you like you casted a spell on him. And truth be told, you might have done just that because he soon found himself unable to keep his hands for himself. In the span of a few seconds, Jake had pushed your boobs out of the coffin of your bra, his lips coming down to play with one of your nipples while his fingers were giving attention to the other.

Your hands quickly came back down to grab his hair, whines leaving your mouth every time his own closed around your nipple. Your mind was already clouded with pleasure and desire, having waited for too long for exactly that to happen, and you didn’t have any patience left : you wanted his cock, and you wanted it now. In one swift movement - and because Jake didn’t expect you to do that - you managed to get him on his back where you were laying seconds before, straddling his lap. Immediately, he found your waist again, his big hands tugging you closer to his cock, where he needed you.

“- If you wanted to be on top, you could’ve just said that, princess.”

You wanted to kiss that stupid, proud grin out of his face, but instead you decided to strip him from his underwear, finally getting to see his cock for real. And it was even more pretty, even more bigger, even more perfect for you.

“- I just need your cock, I don’t care how, I just need it.”

How eager you were to touch him too had Jake groaning and releasing a moan as soon as you started to stroke his cock. He loved the fact that you simply took what you wanted from him, and he was ready to let you use him in any way you wished if that made you happy. However, all the times he imagined how your hand would feel around his dick couldn’t compare to how it really was, to how good it really was.

“- Do whatever you want to me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to lower your head and be at the same level as his cock, sticking out your tongue immediately and coming to lick his flushed tip. The sight was unholy, tempting him to push the rest of his shaft in between your lips right now. Jake couldn’t even recall all the times he closed his eyes and thought about your mouth closing around his dick instead of his hands. And now you were really there, spitting on it and spreading your saliva before taking him in your mouth.

He couldn’t help but throw his head back, his hands coming down to take a hold of your hair, following the movement of your head. The feeling of having you suck his dick couldn’t compare to anything he had fantasized about before. And if you weren’t so busy trying to fit his big cock in your throat, you would have teased him because he looked so fucked out already and you hadn’t done anything yet. Little by little, you managed to fit all of him down your throat, and the moan he let out at you hollowing your cheeks, making you even more wet if possible.

“- Fuck ! Your mouth feels so warm, so good…”

Even when you started to bob your head up and down, he didn’t look down at your face, but you wanted his full attention, wanted to see him lose all his composure. Your hands were resting against his thighs, and you started to graze his skin with your nails, effectively getting him to open his eyes and focus on you again. Another moan left his lips just from seeing you like this.

“- Please, don’t stop…”

And you didn’t, feeling his grip on your hair tightening as you took him all the way down once more. If Jake wasn’t trying to not lose his mind over how well you were taking him, he would have loved to wipe the smug expression out of your face. But for now, all he could do was moan and whine and look at you through hooded eyes, loving how much of a mess you were, with a mix of saliva and pre-cum dribbling from the corner of your lips. He couldn’t resist anymore the urge to thrust his cock up in your mouth, closing his eyes again at the feeling of your tight throat around him.

“- Wanna cum in your mouth so bad pretty, can I ? Please, please, let me…”

You hummed in agreement, far too fucked out yourself to do anything else than taking what he was giving to you. At this point, he was simply using you for his own pleasure but you just let him because you loved it, loved how he claimed you by ruining your throat.

“- Shit Y/N ! Gonna fill you up, yeah ?”

A moan escaped you, the vibration sending Jake over the edge, his hips halting their movement, buried deep inside of your warm mouth and spilling his load right there, your eyes watering as you tried to swallow it all. Jake felt on cloud nine, and he knew that he would not need anyone else for the rest of his life because you were definitely made for him, perfect for him. You got one second to breathe when Jake pulled on your hair, taking you away from his cock and bringing you up to his lips, kissing you deeply and tasting himself on your tongue, loving the nasty mix of both your saliva and his cum. When he finally let you go, you couldn’t help but zeroing again on his red, swollen lips that he was biting while looking intently at you.

“- You did so well for me, pretty, such a good girl.”

His forehead was pressed against yours, cupping your face, thumbs whipping away the tears who had rolled down your cheeks. You felt even more turned on by how thoughtful he was, by his praises, by his sweet gestures despite being so rough with you.

“- Need you Jake…

- Want me to return the favor ?

- Yes, please…”

You felt so desperate for any kind of touch, your body tingling with anticipation as Jake switched position and laid you down on the bed again. He’ll get you to sit on his face another time, when his mind will be clear enough, when he’ll have the patience and self control to make you cum at least two times. He quickly got rid of your bra, even if you looked heavenly in them. But the sight of your naked body was even more appealing. Soon, his hands were all over you again, roaming around your skin and making you shiver. His lips found purchase on your neck again, littering it with more of his kisses and marks.

“- Don’t tease, please, I want you so bad…”

A single swear escaped Jake’s lips as he helped you out of your panties, bringing them to his nose and making a show out of sniffing them and groaning at the intoxicating scent, allowing you to picture how he looked when he had jerked off with your ruined underwear. Then, he threw them away somewhere in his room, not caring where it landed and grabbing you by your thighs to bring you close to his face, holding them wide open for him. The view of your bare and wet pussy had him getting hard all over again.

“- Such a pretty cunt baby, bet you taste just as sweet.”

His praises had you shying away from his dark gaze, but you were not able to hold back your little whimpers. Jake chuckled lightly before diving straight into your wet folds, having had enough of teasing you when he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him. The second he licked up your wetness, it was over for him. He could be as cocky as he wanted but not when he felt his cock throbbing only at the taste of your pussy, not when you were invading all his senses as he buried his face between your plush thighs, sucking harshly on your clit.

Every moan that came out of your lips only spurred him on to continue, to go harder. When he felt you squirming around, he made sure to grip your thighs and keep them in place for him to have better access to your cunt. The way his skillful tongue was taking turns between playing with your clit, licking up your folds and going inside had you losing your mind already, both hands coming down to tug on his hair as if you wanted to keep him there forever.

“- Fuck ! Jake…”

He opened his eyes again at hearing your cries of his name, diving in your lustful gaze. Your parted lips allowed you to whine out everytime his mouth was on you, your cheeks were dusted pink because of the unbearable heat of your body and your hair was a tangled mess, thanks to Jake’s hands earlier. But to him, you never looked better, an heavenly sight for only him to witness.

“- Feels good pretty ?”

You nodded along, a quiet whimper echoing through the room at the loss of contact with his wet muscle.

“- Yes ! Yes, so good…”

Jake knew that, but to hear you say it had a smirk playing on his lips, and you couldn’t even be mad about it because he was looking insanely hot doing it. You could feel the pad of his fingers creeping up the skin between your knees and hips, so slowly it made shivers come alive on your whole body. And when he was almost touching your wet folds, he started all over again with your other leg, this time going as far as debuting at your ankle, and coming up even more lazily.

“- Please…

- Please what, pretty ?

- You know what I’m talking about !”

Your pouting face was too cute for Jake to not want to tease you more. He loved it when you made him go crazy, loved when you were getting him hard in the most inappropriate situations because you sent him a picture of your boobs. But it was also enjoyable to have you in the palm of his hand, dying for him to touch you. He rested his hands on the insides of your thighs, so close to where you needed him and yet so far away.

“- Hum, I don’t think so baby, you need to use your words if you want something.”

The grin on his face got even wider when he witnessed the way your hole clenched around nothing at his demanding tone, at his deep, low voice. He suspected that you had a thing for it since you were always biting your lips when he facetimed you early in the morning or late at night with his hoarse voice.

“- Come on, don’t get shy on me now, you told me a lot more worse before.”

You did. You definitely did with all the filthy texts you exchanged, and all the photos, videos and audios you sent, and your panties which were still sitting in one of his drawers like the ultimate proof of how naughty you were.

“- Want your fingers…

- Here we go. That wasn't so difficult, princess, was it ?”

You shook your head no as Jake dived back into your cunt, his lips finding their spot back on your clit, while his hand finally reached your wet folds. His touch was as light as a feather, but still enough to tear a noise out of you, still enough to make you crave more. All it took was a slight tug on the strands of hair you were still gripping and suddenly, you could feel one of his fingers entering you slowly, so as to not hurt you.

“- Good ?”

You nodded energetically, releasing a sigh of relief to have something filling your empty pussy, and you didn’t even need to tell Jake for him to understand that you wanted more, inserting another finger while still playing with your clit with his tongue. And when he started to pump his fingers in and out, you knew that you wouldn’t last long, especially not when he seemed to have figured out exactly how to make you lose your mind. You couldn't stop the noises from coming out of your mouth anymore, pushing Jake's head even closer to your core if that was even possible, grinding on his face as pleasure coursed through your veins and the knot in your stomach snapped.

Your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and you almost didn't feel his gentle kisses on your inner thighs to help you come down off your high. What you did feel though was him pulling out his fingers and bringing them to your lips. He smiled sweetly at your obedience, watching you through his lashes as you opened your mouth and let him bury them inside, even moaning around his fingers just like you did around his dick.

“- So good for me, fuck, you're so pretty…”

He wanted to lick off your lips the string of saliva connecting them to his fingers, wanted to make out with you and your pussy for the rest of his life. Silence came back in his room, only broken by your heavy breathings, looking into each other's eyes as if you could read your minds.

“- You’re gonna fuck me or not ?”

Your teasing smirk and the challenging tone of your voice brought a grin on his face, which widened at the strangled moan you let out when he grabbed your hips and forced you to turn around, getting you on your knees, ass up and pushing your head down his pillow. He was doing with his hands everything he did with his words : ordering you around, telling you how to place the camera so he had the best view of your dripping cunt, not letting you cum before he did. Without letting you have any more time to think, Jake was pushing the tip of his cock between your folds, sliding right in with how wet you were. You couldn’t see him from your position, but you could hear his deep groan as you clenched around him.

“- All you need is a little bit of dick to shut your big mouth uh ?”

You wanted to protest, to say no, to answer something that would have made him shut up, but all that came out of your lips was a cry of his name as he thrusted all the way in. If he wasn’t holding your hips up, you would’ve collapsed, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure in your body at feeling so full suddenly.

“- Yeah, that’s it, just a slut who needs to be fucked.”

As much as Jake wanted to sound composed, his voice was shaking, and the moan that left him just after was really far from composed. The feeling of your tight, warm, velvety walls had him wondering why he waited so long before fucking you because it had to be what heaven felt like. Slowly, he pulled his cock out, only to thrust back inside roughly, the sound of your whimpers mingling with his deep groans.

“- Fuck ! You’re perfect for my cock, pretty little pussy.”

At this point, you could only whine in his pillow, mumbling on and on about how good he felt, about how you had wanted this for so long. And Jake wanted to be cocky about it, wanted to tease you for being so desperate for his cock, but he wasn’t doing any better, barely resisting the urge of painting your walls white on the spot. You had told him so many times over text and even during your calls how much you wanted him to fuck you raw, how much you needed him to fill you up to the brim, it was the only thing he could think about right now.

“- You want me to fill you up with my cum ? Is that what you want ?”

You moaned in response, your brain too mushy to think about anything else than the way the tip of his cock was hitting your sweet spot over and over. But that didn’t seem to satisfy him as he pulled on your hair, yanking your head back. Another noise fell out of your lips at his rough actions and you could feel the smirk on his lips when they brushed against your ear while he was talking.

“- Words pretty.

- Yes, fuck ! I want your cum Jake, want it all, please !”

- Such a good little slut, shit !”

You felt your eyes watering again with the increasing speed of Jake’s thrusts, the rush of pleasure through your body too good to resist anymore. Your orgasm washed over you before you could even register it, leaving you a moaning and incoherent mess in his hold. The feeling of your cunt getting even more tight was enough for Jake to cum too, spilling his load inside of you with a throaty groan.

You were tired, but still, the tingling sensation in your core was there. You wanted more of his cock, more of his moans, more of his hands on you, more of him. A quiet whine fell from your lips when Jake started kissing your back up and down, his hands caressing your hips to soothe the skin he had marked. And you knew all of this was supposed to be sweet and caring, but all it did was turn you on even more, your cunt squeezing his cock that was still buried inside. You felt some of his cum spilling out and sliding down your thighs, followed closely by a swear from Jake.

“- You’re getting me hard again pretty…”

You turned your head to look at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, lips swollen and red from his kisses, and hair a mess because of his hands. And Jake could swear it was the most divine you’ve ever looked - when he had just ruined you.

“- Let me ride you then.

- Fuck, yes.”

You chuckled at his eagerness when he pulled out from your leaking cunt, trying not to drool at the sight as he plopped down on his bed, grabbing your thighs and bringing you on his lap. But you couldn’t really make fun of him when you had dreamt about this for just as long. You traced along the marks that already started to blossom on his skin, grinning proudly at your work and loving how sensitive Jake was, taking a deep breath as you took his cock in your hand, brushing the tip against your entrance.

“- Y/N… Please…”

The way the word came so easily to him paired with his whine of your name convinced you to not make him wait any longer and to sink on his dick instead, both of you moaning at the feeling. It felt so much deeper this way, and you knew only from the photos that he was big, but you were only acknowledging just how much now.

“- Feels so good Jake, love your big cock…”

He desperately wanted to answer something, wanted to tell you how delicious you were, but you took his breath away when you started rocking your hips back and forth. And suddenly, the only thing he was able to think about was you. His hands were on your waist, but he didn’t have enough consciousness left to even help you bounce up and down, simply staring at you, mesmerized.

A flood of dirty words was coming out of your mouth, praising him and his dick, telling him how good he felt, how handsome he was. And Jake loved the attention, loved to feel your hands dangerously close to his neck, close enough for him to want your fingers wrapped around his throat, close enough for you to purposely restrict his breathing a little without really choking him. Only the squelching of your mixed juices and the ones of your cries of pleasure could be heard in the room, both of you too fucked out to care about anything else than your release.

“- Can I cum inside again, pretty, please ? Please, let me…

- Yes, want it so bad !”

Jake closed his eyes as he felt his orgasm approaching, lifting his hips to meet your thrusts. He was only able to do it a few times before his cock twitched, cumming deep inside. He kept you down on his lap until he felt on the verge of passing out. The erotic moans and whimpers he let out triggered your own climax, and everything was even more intense because of the slight overstimulation. You grinned your hips against him a few more times before your arms and legs gave out and you collapsed on top of him, his arms immediately wrapping around your sweaty body.

You closed your eyes for a moment, and you were almost ready to fall asleep when Jake moved you off of him and stood up. You whined and grabbed him by his wrist, trying to pull him back to the bed with you.

“- I’m just going to take something to clean us up pretty, I’ll be quick, promise.”

Jake smiled fondly at your pouty lips before kissing them and running to the bathroom to find a towel. He rapidly cleaned your skin, delicately whipping it down and handed you one of his shirts to cover up when he saw you shiver. He discarded the towel on the floor, not having the energy to do anything else than going to sleep with you in his arms right now. He slipped under the covers after having put on some shorts.

You directly snuggled up to him, hiding your face in his neck and breathing his scent in. And Jake couldn’t help the big smile stretching out his lips when he tightened his hold around your waist and distinctly heard you hum against his skin.

“- Y/N ?”

You lifted your head when he broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, taking in his soft smile, his shiny eyes and his disheveled hairs. Maybe he had looked more put together before, but to you, he was the most beautiful like this.

“- Will you be my girlfriend ?”

And you couldn’t help but reciprocate his smile and shake your head. Sometimes, he was very silly. Sometimes, he could be considered childish. But he was able to bring back sunshine when your days were filled with gray clouds, and he could make you laugh anytime you felt down. Your hands came up to cup his face, delicately brushing your thumbs against his cheekbones.

“- You know, you’re very charming Jake Sim, it’s hard to resist you.”

This time, it was him who hid in your neck, holding you even tighter if it was possible. And you giggled heartedly, a sound that Jake would never get sick of hearing. And maybe he had lost your game, but he had won something even more precious.

BONUS :

You picked up your phone when getting out of the store, holding a little plastic bag with everything you needed to cook a delicious breakfast for you and Jake. Speaking of whom, you had a bunch of messages from him, asking where you were, and if you had ran away. Texts saying how sorry he was if he was too pushy last night, that he would let you as much time as you wanted if it was what you needed. And endless apologies, over and over. You only answered with a quick message letting him know that you would be back quickly.

Meanwhile, Jake was really panicking. When he woke up and felt the space beside him empty and that your clothes weren’t littering the floor of his bedroom anymore, all remnants of sleepiness left his body, immediately looking around the apartment to see if you were anywhere. It was stupid, he knew it, if you had left, it was certainly for a good reason, but he couldn’t help asking himself if maybe you had come to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be with him. He sat down on one of the kitchen stools, biting his nails while waiting for you to say something else but you didn’t, and stress took over him again.

When you pushed the door open, you were only met with Jake's worried look waiting for you in the kitchen. He was only wearing the same pair of gray sweatpants as last night and you couldn’t stop your mind from going back to how good it all felt, but the object of your fantasies stopped your thoughts from going too far.

“- Where were you !?

- I was at the store down the street, to buy us breakfast.”

You lifted your bag and dropped it on the kitchen counter before making your way over to Jake until you could run your fingers through his hair. The hands of the boy came up to rest on your waist, only noticing now that you were wearing his clothes, his heart beating faster at the view.

“- Didn’t you see my note ?”

You looked around and saw that it was still where you had left it, immediately showing it to Jake who was getting more and more embarrassed for getting so worked up over something so stupid.

“- I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe you didn’t mean what you said last night and that you realized that this morning and decided to leave…”

Jake hesitantly looked up at your face to find you smiling fondly at him. You leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, and another one, and another one, until you had peppered his whole face with kisses and made him giggle shyly.

“- You’re an idiot if you think you’re going to get away from me so easily, I’m not letting you go.

- Good, because I don’t want you to.”

-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my post.

-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword

enha masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @iraisswiftie

#enhypen #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enha #enha fics #enha x reader #enha smut #jake sim #jake smut #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #college au #eli: lost the game

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joelmillerisapunk · 2 months

Text

a sweet arrangement

sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,374

Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin

Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy

You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.

After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."

Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:

"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."

Feeling intrigued, you reply:

"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”

The response comes quickly.

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"

You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”

You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”

Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.

But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."

You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."

Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."

You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”

You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."

Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”

You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"

Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”

You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."

As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached

You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"

Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.

Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."

With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.

The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."

"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."

"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."

"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."

"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."

Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.

"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."

"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"

Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."

"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."

As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.

"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.

Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.

You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.

Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.

"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.

You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.

Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.

Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.

Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.

Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."

He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

“You may."

Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"

“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.

"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.

You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.

He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.

Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."

Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.

"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.

Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."

"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”

You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”

Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”

You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.

Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.

Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.

Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.

You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.

You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.

You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."

Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."

Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."

You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.

"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."

Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."

---

Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #daddy!joel miller #sugardaddy!joel miller

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kiwisbell · 5 months

Text

Candy Girl [joel miller]

The before and after. Or, Joel fucks his friend's daughter for the first time.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ [mdni]

tags/warnings: daddy kink, baker!reader, age gap (20s/40s), (sort of) dbf!joel, daddy dom!joel, soft!joel, angst, self-loathing, waxing poetic about eating pussy, unprotected piv (wrap that shit up like a pastry), creampie, cream pies, dirty talk, pet names, forbidden romance, tw for occasional stylistic omission of quotation marks, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: ~ 6k

read on ao3!

a/n: hi, all!! please, as always, mind the tags for this fic - it's quite a departure from what i typically write, but daddy joel has set up shop in my brain and he won't leave. if this isn't for you, that's cool - you don't have to read it. i hope you'll be kind, and as always, i hope you enjoy!! xoxo

thank you HUGELY to my dear mya @cavillscurls for the absolutely stunning moodboard!!! i love you and i'm obsessed with you and you're crazy talented 🫶 and thank you endlessly to my parents sam and el @tieronecrush and @northernbluess for being AMAZING betas and always supporting me and my silly fics!!

CANDY GIRL

What have I done, he thinks, parting your dewy folds with two fingers and sliding his tongue through the glistening mess between your thighs, to deserve this?

He certainly can’t think of some good-enough deed to warrant him being here, tucked warmly in this apex, kindling a fire, rubbing his hands over the red of the flame, breathing sighs and gasps and groans into the sweet-smelling flesh of your thighs as if he were destined to arrive here. As if it were a mere quirk of fate, and now everything is gently settling into motion.

Your fingers are curled in his hair and your chest—bare, smattered with a faint sheen of sweat and reflecting moonlight, illicit—is heaving. You have no instinct to steer him. Your hand knows no guiding push or pull. Your back is bowing off the mattress and your mouth is emitting needy little whines and whimpers and pleas for mercy, more, please, Daddy.

And he’s acquiescing, toppling slowly into that heady pull of sticky wet warmth between your thighs, and all he can think is that you smell like cherries.

And you are messy. Fuck, you’re dripping onto his chin as he licks through you, languishing in the prickling taste as if he's guiding his tongue along the salt rim of a glass. His fingers absently dimple your thighs, bruising, forcing them to fall open, part wider, for him.

Let me in, baby girl.

Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. My pretty girl.

So goddamn beautiful like this.

You just relax, baby, and let me in. C’mon, now.

You obey every muffled order like it’s law, letting him shoulder his way between your legs, his hand pressing firm on your belly, pinning you. The answering mewl he hears from your parted lips is the sweet slide of your strawberry icing along his taste buds. He buries his tongue between your wet folds and holds you tighter, dizzied with the smell and the taste and the feel of finally taking what he wants. What you've given him.

Joel licks self-indulgently through your slit until your pretty cunt is slathered in his spit and glistens with your own juices. When he sees your clit, puffy and fucking needy and shining at him like a goddamn pearl, he licks his lips.

Look at her. She’s fuckin’ cryin’ for me, baby girl. You need your Daddy to kiss it better?

You whine, grasping his locks, still never quite urging or pushing, but begging: Daddy, I’ll do anything. Please, I’ll do anything.

Shh, sweetheart. Don’t have to do anything. Just keep ‘em open for me. I’ll make it good. Hear me?

A frantic nod. A reflexive squeeze of the hand on your belly. Eyes, watery and butter-soft in the darkness—wrong, risk—meet his own.

Yes, Daddy.

It didn't begin this way.

Some of the edges are blurred with time. He vaguely recalls the time before you—mornings alone at the breakfast table, intermittent calls to Sarah all the way in College Station, long days on the job site because he had nothing else to come home to—and he’s bitter. It tastes nothing like the after: strawberry icing, vanilla perfume, cherries.

It must have begun when Chris slapped him on the back after the scaffolding on the Queen Street job was taken down and said, “Couple of us are grabbing coffees at the Morning Star. You should come along, man. Get outta the house.”

The Morning Star. A slightly weathered pink awning and a varnished oak interior, a couple small tables (occupied), a flurry of activity in front of and behind the counter. A glass display case brimming with cakes and croissants and macarons. Glass vases filled with pink roses whose stems have been neatly trimmed. A pretty girl working behind the counter, tending to customers with an irradiating smile, a tender hand, the blinding glint of a bracelet, a pair of earrings, glowing.

“What can I get for you this morning?” you asked him, like it was some secret spilling from the torso, a heart lurching from its cage, spread out on the ground.

Petal-pink flowers painted on your fingernails. The aching attentiveness of your stare. Ekphrastic turns of phrases pasted to the wall behind the counter, in the form of a mural, crowd-sourced poems and letters and works of art. Lived-in, loved. The smell of cherries as you approached.

And then it was Chris, clapping Joel on the shoulder, a jolt of good-natured violence turning to torrent as he said, “The usual for me, honey.”

It's been wrong since that moment. Maybe it's been wrong all along. That doesn't stop him from ending up here. And it doesn't stop you from following.

On your back, in Joel’s bed, your legs spread wide to accommodate his broad shoulders, welcoming the face-warming intrusion of his mouth between your slick folds. Bold in the way you curl your pretty polished fingers in his greying locks—he’s too old, much too old for you—and receptive in your soft moans and your uttered hexes of yesyesyes.

Bewitched, he flattens his tongue against your pulsing clit and latches his lips around it, his eyes fixed on the way your head falls back, the length of your throat exposed, the evidence of your beating heart laid bare for him in the tremble of your pulse.

He sucks on your clit until your legs begin to shake, and it’s the telltale squeeze of your thighs around his shoulders, the way you reflexively kick his back with your heel. But he’s pulling away, crushing his nose in the flesh of your thigh, nipping your soft skin, and the cry that leaves your mouth carves a tremor down his spine.

Your tight little hole flutters with the need to be filled, to take him inside you, to make him wholly yours, the way he already is, the way you can never know.

So he slides his tongue over your clit and lathers you in his spit and digs his fingertips into your thighs as if he owns you—because he never can.

The flickering burn of regret and shame soothes when he's between your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you come so hard that you weep—leg kicking out, shackled by a firm hand around your ankle, back arching, fingers grasping, flexing, at whatever you can touch. You pour into him, molten gold, recast in his likeness, and he doesn't deserve this but he will take it.

Instinctively, he pushes deeper, lapping your release from your messy hole, his nose pressed against your oversensitive clit—and he can’t resist, has never been able to, gently coaxing you through it, Poor baby, so goddamn needy for Daddy, sweetheart. Taste so fuckin’ sweet.

You’re whining, finally pushing at his head as the pleasure notches too high, and he presses a soft kiss to your clit before dragging his lips up your belly, between your tits, pulling you upright to sit you in his lap. You grin lazily and drop your forehead against his.

Fuck, he's so proud. He smooths his hand down the crown of your head and skates his fingers down your sweat-slick spine.

You tired, baby?

You nod, and he nips at your pouting bottom lip.

Hmm, but you ain't a quitter. You can give me another, can't you? You wanna be good for me.

He whispers it all against the curve of your throat, into your collarbones, fitting his rough palm against your lower back and pulling your body flush to his. He sweats through all his layers and bleeds his warmth into you, but you don't care, grinding down on his lap, sliding your wet pussy along the hard length in his jeans.

Your hand is slippery at the back of his neck and your eyes are lidded, sleepy, near-black, as you take what you need because you're a greedy girl when it comes down to it, and he's holding your bloody beating heart in his palms.

I’ll be so good, Daddy.

He knows. God, he knows—his lips find your temple, hair matted with sweat, and he can feel your tits pressing up against his chest, the erratic melody your heart sings to him, for him, through him. And he doesn’t deserve this.

Gonna need to take me out, baby girl. Go on, now.

You scramble, reaching between your bodies and unbuttoning his jeans, your hand teasing down the waistband of his boxers. Joel groans when you squeeze him, his teeth catching on your earlobe, nibbling from your jaw to your chin. He watches your manicured hand with its pretty pink polish wrap snugly around the base of his cock—you give him a firm, slow stroke, and he curses at the sight of your oh-so eager gaze.

Shit, baby. You're grinding your hips, smearing your wetness along his length, and he kneads your hip like dough while you grasp his shoulder, your head lolling. He bares his teeth, growling and snapping like a dog at the hot, slick slide of your cunt, his eyes a pendulum between the joining of your bodies and the heavy gaze you give him. That’s it, that’s fuckin’ it, take what you need.

Your legs are trembling, too weak to hold yourself upright, and he knows, as always, exactly what it is you want.

You’ve always been spoiled, because he’s let it happen.

“Just a coffee,” he said, his third consecutive day in the Morning Star. “Please.”

He felt the twist of your lips in his ribcage. “I promise we have more than just coffee.”

“‘s good coffee,” he said. “Why spoil a good thing?”

He liked your pale pink hat and apron and the colour of your nails. He liked the way you feathered your fingertips over the till while you waited patiently for orders, the way you dealt so kindly with indecisiveness, the way your heart-shaped pendant glimmered when the sun dipped low in the western sky.

He only knows it glows like that because you let him stay one night, long after close, to fix the hinge on the front door.

He’d known the Morning Star for a month. He knew it better than he knew you.

“You don’t have to do this, Joel.”

An anxious shifting of your weight from one foot to the other, an intermittent four-fingered tap of your nails on the countertop, a soft weariness blurring the edges of your irises, as you tried to tell him you were fine, you could call your dad in the morning, please don’t worry about me.

The gentle in-and-out of your chest as you breathed, the golden near-evening light trickling the sun into the whites of your eyes, where it belonged. When you inhaled, he exhaled, the rhythmic pulse of life dancing between you, twirling carelessly on the edge of something neither of you could explain.

“I wanna help,” he said. “And you should let me.”

You sighed, little of the charging bull and more of the huffing kitten, and his stomach lurched painfully. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to rest his hand at the crown of your head, soothe the tension in your shoulders with a measured press of his fingertips, unearth the blood-flecked bones that heralded emotions he could not yet name. Later, he would know them intimately; later, he would set his teeth in the white marrow and lick the blood from his chops.

He wanted to ask all of his questions with his fingers, not his mouth, let you answer them the way you saw fit, giving that silent, haptic space the power it needed to pry open the parts of your life he could only guess at.

But he did not touch you.

Then, a time firmly lodged in the hazy somewhere of before-and-after, he could only pretend. And he could fix the door.

Now, he’s gazing in disbelief at the way your tight little hole wrenches open around the weeping tip of his heavy cock, his sweaty body sliding along yours as you hastily shove the buttons of his flannel out of their slits and shuck off his shirt. Skin-to-skin, he feels your pulse ever stronger, licking and sucking at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His palm is flat between your shoulder blades as he eases you open, helping you take his big cock.

Daddy…

I know, baby girl, I know. Just a little more. That’s it—keep holdin’ onto me, baby.

Petting you like a domesticated cat, fitting his fingers in the grooves between your ribs, feeling his own heartbeat settle into the rhythm of yours. You grasp his shoulder, the nape of his neck, your lips parting against his forehead, pressing feverish kisses to the space where his greying curls stick to his skin.

You can take me, sweet girl. My baby. So good for me—

—the way you always have been.

“When my mom left, she gave the bakery to me.” Guiding the pink icing onto the small fluffy cakes, you moved seamlessly. Second nature, like laying mortar and brick. Your hands were speckled with flour and frosting.

The vanilla cupcakes, robed in white paper, were a commission for a young girl’s sixth birthday. “Pink was Sarah’s favourite, too,” he’d said when he walked in that morning—perhaps too needy for a reason to connect. Blindly tossing a fishing line into a murky lake.

But you still glowed when you had beamed up at him: “And now? She still a pink lover?”

“Haven't asked in a while,” he’d said, “but I’d reckon so.”

“She’s smart.” You had slid the black coffee across the counter and placed a cupcake next to it. Joel frowned.

“What's this?”

You had lifted your brows, your eyes telegraphing a challenge. He had sunk neck-deep into your emboldened gaze. “This is a cupcake.”

“Smartass,” he’d huffed. “You got a reason for givin’ me a cupcake?”

You’d gently pushed them closer to him and given him that blinding, tempting grin, and how could he ever hope to decline you when you looked at him like that?

“I value your opinion, Joel,” you’d told him, “and if you don’t eat it, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

He'd taken the cupcake and sunk his teeth into its pillowy flesh right there in front of you.

“And your dad?” asked Joel, on his knees under the counter, replacing the latch on the display door’s hinge. “He help you out a lot?”

An intrusive figure, playing unwitting God in the budding flower bed, picking petals before they were dead. He would always inflate the distance between you, assert his right to decide who you wanted, dated, fucked—he would always be Joel’s judge and jury.

The executioner’s axe he’d take up himself.

You topped off a row of cupcakes with little candied cherries. “He couldn't afford to quit, so I’m running the place. So much for school.”

Joel didn't like that. He didn’t like the way you let it all slide gently down your spine. There was a quiet defiance in the way you spoke—some simmering anger you buried deep in the earth where the colours weren't bright and your heart wasn't so naked. He could feel its veins as if holding it in his palm, the gentle ba-dum, ba-dum of a vulnerable organ so acquainted with disappointment.

“What do you want to study?” he asked.

“Don’t know. Never got the chance to think about it.”

Never got the chance to find yourself. To learn. To grow. You had simply stepped into another’s body, a ghost, occupied endlessly with the next task and the next and then one more. You should've been spending your early twenties partying and studying and crying your eyes out over idiot boys who didn’t know how good they had it. You shouldn't have to be here, decorating cupcakes for a six-year-old while some old man fixed yet another broken hinge, latch, bulb.

“I became a dad pretty young,” said Joel. “Thought I was gonna lose my whole life, all my opportunities, not that I had any.”

He did not deserve the empathetic shimmer in your waterline. “Joel, that's not true—”

“But,” he said with a faint groan as he rose, “I got to make a life of my own, with my kid, and I was happy.”

“You were happy?” you said wearily. “You aren't anymore?”

“I’m…”

He caught your eye and felt the plates far beneath his feet dislodge. Quantum shift. You held his gaze as if you were waiting for some truth to crawl from his sockets—like he was your answer. And Joel did not know what to do with that, but if you would keep looking at him this way, he would tell you any false truths you wanted to hear.

“I’m lonely,” he said at last. Joel reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. A shiver coursed through your heart which lay in his palm, warm crimson blood trickling down his wrists. “And you shouldn't have to be. You’ve got so much life ahead of you, sweetheart.”

Some glacial melt keeled the weight of your head toward him, and your cheek was resting in the pool of his palm. Joel did not care for the hand of God whose fingers would inevitably squeeze the life from whatever this was. The jigsaw fit of your bodies felt so right in this incomprehensible sliver between before and after.

“You're not old, Joel,” you said softly.

“Too old for you.”

He didn't know why he said it, but it made you smile.

“You keep lying to me, Mr. Miller, and I’m not going to trust you anymore.” A wry twist of your lips. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Is this flirting? he thought to himself, so fucking out of practice that the concept felt altogether foreign. But you were giving him that foxlike look and his hand was still cupping your cheek and he could feel the flutter of your pulse, and he didn’t want to stop.

“No, baby. I don’t want that.”

Flesh meets flesh. Your hips drop, and you’re sitting so prettily on his cock, the whole of him buried inside you, stretching your capacities, shifting the dichotomy of right and wrong. He stares up at you—lips parted, eyes lidded, heart beating JoelJoelJoel—and pleasure pinballs down each knob of his spine. He’s locked in the tidal push-and-pull with your body, gravity sucking him into you, or sucking you down onto him. It doesn't matter.

This is the after, and you're drunkenly nudging his nose with yours, trying to kiss him, and he's taking you. Running with the diamond. Sliding his tongue into your mouth, tasting cherries and frosting and giving you a piece of what he's already taken from you. You're sighing and moaning and greedily opening your mouth into him to swallow down your own taste.

His hand slides up your spine to the sticky nape of your neck as he presses you to him, joined by every joint, every pound of flesh.

And when he begins to move, to grind up into you and draw gooey, cloying gasps from your mouth, Joel thinks he briefly sees white.

Jesus. Been waitin’ so goddamn long for this. You're so fuckin’ soft, baby girl. So fuckin’ beautiful.

His teeth in your throat, around your earlobe, scraping your jaw, pleasure pinching, recapitulating, recovering only to start again. Your name on his tongue, passing from his mouth to yours, the anchor of your hand around his neck, the other on his shoulder, reciprocal re-stabilising.

He needs you just as much as you need him, and he shows you in the way he pulls you firmly to him, because he cannot bring himself to whisper it into the barely-there space between your bodies.

“Joel, I’m sorry to call you so early, but I’m out of options, and the party starts in two hours, and my delivery guy flaked, and—”

“Honey, slow down. Lemme wake up, okay? I’m comin’ to you.”

“Oh, God, just forget I said anything. Go back to sleep. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He still remembers the break in your voice, the fragile warble of your resolve cleaving down the middle. He remembers the sting in his own chest like it was his wound, not yours. He was awake before the sun began to climb.

You had to personally drive the cake you’d made for a ten-year-old’s birthday party all the way across town now that your delivery service had fallen through. You didn’t even have a car; you took the bus everywhere, which Joel had chewed his tongue to pieces over for months. Things could happen in the dark. Public transport was no different. But your own father didn’t seem to take issue with it, so how could Joel?

“Don’t say a word,” he told you when you hopped up into his truck and opened your mouth to apologise. “I don’t mind. You know damn well I don’t mind.”

“You should mind,” you said, instinctively picking a piece of lint from his flannel with that miserable little pout on your face. “All I’ve ever done is ask you for things.”

“And if I like doin’ things for you?”

“Then I’ll put you on my payroll,” you countered.

Joel shook his head fondly. You cleaned when you were anxious; grooming and picking at him like a monkey should not have surprised him. “Well, I got a birthday comin’ up, if you wanna thank me.”

“Yeah?” You bit your lip and some of the heaviness sitting on your shoulders lifted, the promise of getting to repay him for his altruism at last eliciting the smile he wanted. “What would you like?”

You take me so well, baby girl. Goddamn meant for me.

The hot, wet slide of your cunt up and down the length of his steel-hard cock has him doubling over, mouthing sloppily at your tits, sucking and nibbling on your stiff nipples as you cry and whimper: Oh, Daddy, please… fuck, that feels… I can’t—

He’s blinking hard to squeeze the bleeding edges of fantasy away—because this is real, and he cannot know if he will ever have this again. I know you can. You can take me.

A nod, frantic and sick with desire, slips against his temple. I can take it. Please—let me be your good girl. I’m good, good for you.

I know you are, baby girl. So good for Daddy.

“Joel!”

He had never heard his own name infused with such thrill. It settled in the pool of his gut and oozed out past his ribs.

You beckoned him to the counter and placed a steaming mug between the pair of you. The umber liquid sloshed gently in the cup. “It’s a macchiato. And don’t worry”—you caught him before the gash between his brows could deepen worriedly—“it’s nothing like that sugar heap you'll get at a Starbucks. Two shots of espresso, balanced with the milk foam.”

Joel tried to smile, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Milk… foam.”

“I know you're a coffee purist, Joel, but hear me out.” You scurried to the large black boards on the back wall and flipped one over to reveal the bright white writing—stark, vibrant, a proclamation you should’ve had no business making, not when it was so bold as this.

NEW, it read in a pretty, looping font. THE MILLER.

His heart leapt to his throat. And there you were, gesturing to the board with his name—Joel’s name—on it, and he was lifting the confounding liquid to his lips.

Some of the foam accumulated in his moustache as he tentatively sipped and rolled the flavour over his tongue. It wasn't… bad. Not at all. A little too sweet where he preferred the bitter drag of a dark roast. A few too many frills. But—

“It’s good,” he said. Your answering smile decided it for him. He would never go back to black coffee.

Fuck, baby, that's it. Keep on ridin’ me just like that. Oh, Jesus—

The slow, rhythmic slap of your thighs against his as you lock your arms around his neck and lift yourself up and down on his dick. Your head lolling around your shoulders, your brows drawn up in the middle. The squelch of your creamy cunt as you take him to the hilt and bring your hips down in measured, grinding motions.

You’re getting yourself off, too, your clit rubbing against the hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel groans, Fuckin’ hell. Christ, that’s good. That’s it, that’s—

“Think I’m gettin’ fat on all these sweets, baby.”

He’d begun to come into the bakery on Saturday mornings, too, even though he didn’t work. With Sarah no longer in Austin and a dreadfully empty house whose groans and creaks only kept him up all hours, he had little to do but work, maintain the lawns, and, well…

Sat together at the table by the window, you shared a leftover slice of rich cherry pie. The awning outside fluttered gently in the breeze, cutlery and ceramic softly colliding as folks indulged in your treats. You beamed at Joel and reached out to swipe some foamed milk from his moustache.

“I like you this way,” you said, your thumb coasting along his jawline, your eyes like jewels. The pendant on your throat dipped as you swallowed, settling in the hollow like a perching bird.

Joel, white-knuckling his fork, felt his cock grow hard in his boxers, a heavy weight against his leg. The rapid shuttering of your eyes left him feeling inexplicably panicked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“No,” said Joel, his hand covering your knee beneath the table. You were wearing a little skirt that day. The silky fabric shifted under the coarse texture of the pads of his fingers and he wondered if the softness would be akin to the flesh of your thighs, your belly, your tits (sitting so pretty in that plain T-shirt: pink, of course). “No, you didn’t… You know I…”

And what could he say?

You know I’ve wanted to slip my hand down each one of those pretty skirts you wear since the first day I saw you. You know I take my cock in my hand and jerk off in the shower and I picture your lips around it. You know you’ve fucking infected me. You know I’m poisoned. You know I ain’t good enough. Youknowyouknowyouknow I can never have you.

“Joel, man, I’ve been calling your cell.”

His hand smacked the underside of the table in its hasty retreat as Chris rounded the corner and clapped Joel on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo. You mind if I have a bite?”

And because you were so goddamn sweet, because you were a smart girl and knew how to play it cool, you gave your father your fork with a big smile and said, “All yours. I should get back. Thanks for the taste test, Joel.”

Chris easily occupied your seat at the table and Joel, adjusting his pants discreetly, was struck by how wrong this had been. To sit with you, sharing a pie, touching, wanting—

He was fucked. And he didn’t care. He only wanted more.

“Cowboys kick off next Sunday,” said Chris through a mouthful of baked cherries. The warm, cloying scent reminded Joel of your perfume. “You want to come over for dinner? We’ll order takeout, grab some beers.”

Joel swallowed, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. He felt the phantom touch of your thumb lingering just above his Cupid’s bow. “Yeah, man. Be fun.”

Chris grinned over the pie—now his, no lingers yours and Joel’s. “Hope you don’t mind that I invited my kid, too. She needs the break.”

You’re close, baby. Can fuckin’ feel it. Feel you squeezin’ me.

Thighs trembling, muscles gooey, you struggle to lift yourself up, and it's Joel who scoops you up with a hand on your ass and lies you on your back, never once pulling out. He doesn't think he can. How did the first man to discover fire ever snuff it out?

He bends over you and thrusts deep, punching a sob out of your throat. Joel groans, nipping your chin as you toss your head back, his mouth trailing down the hollow of your throat, latching around one of your sore nipples, already abused by his attention. You rake your fingers through his tousled greying locks and lift your legs up around his hips as he fucks you slow, hard, deep enough that your heart begins to bruise.

Joel hisses when he feels your fingernails scratching down his spine, between his shoulder blades, pulling him close to you. He dulls his pain in your flesh, open-mouthed kisses soothing the biting bruises he's left on your throat.

Your cunt rhythmically pulses around his cock and Joel grunts, driving deeper, hand fisting your hair, and Daddy, I’m so close—!

Friday night. Joel’s birthday.

He’d spent it on the job site, laying brick, then at home, cracking open a cold beer and calling Sarah, whose gift hadn't arrived yet. She sang him “Happy Birthday” from her dorm room and Joel smiled. All things considered, it wasn't a shitty day. Just…

Lonely.

And you—

You were at his door at ten o’clock, shrouded in night in a way he'd never seen you. Not dressed in pink but black: sweatpants and a tight little tank top that made him swallow his tongue. You were holding a goddamn cake.

You'd had a stressful day. He could tell. Eyes a little sunken, shoulders a little rounded, but you were still smiling, still holding up that cake—chocolate, circled with candied cherries, of course—and singing a weary “Surprise!”

Joel laughed—in shock, maybe—and rubbed his hand over his beard. “Jesus, baby,” he said. “C’mon in; it’s cold out.”

He helped you secure the cake in the refrigerator and offered you dinner: leftover pad thai and a beer. You accepted the former with a grumbling stomach and politely declined the latter. Of course, you were a wine girl.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” you told him, sitting across the couch while reruns of Happy Days idly played on the television. “Shit goes down at the Morning Star when you're not there.”

Joel shook his head. “I run a tight ship. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m strung-out, Joel, as ever. But fine.” Your conciliatory smile was so fucking cheeky he had half a mind to put you over his knee. “I hope your birthday wasn't a disappointment.”

“Couldn't have been,” he said. “You brought me a cake.”

You beamed. And the cord wrapped around both of your bodies jerked tighter. Joel was hiding his erection with the takeout container, too humiliated to let you see the hard band of his cock in his jeans. You'd run. You'd think he was a freak, a perv, a sleaze.

He was all three, of course. Didn't stop him from wanting—

His cock driving deep inside you, achingly slow, back screaming for relief. Daddy, please, I’m… nnngh, please let me come! Daddy, I’ll do anything, please!

Shhh, baby girl. He rises to his haunches and dips his hand between your joined bodies, rubbing your slick little pearl in fast circles. Your eyes roll back and your head collided with the pillow once more. Thaaat’s it, baby. You gonna come for Daddy? Be a good girl for me?

“Joel,” you said softly, your food forgotten on the table, your body inching closer to his, now two feet apart at best. Your eyes buttery in the darkness, lips dewy with some pinkish gloss you always wore, gloss he knew tasted like cherries. He licked his lips.

His hands flexed. “Yeah.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you said, bridging the gap, placing your hand on his knee, pink nails and soft skin and vanilla perfume. Joel sets his container aside, swallowing hard.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You were tentative at first, scooting closer, your hand gingerly exploring the length of his strong thigh, against the grain of the denim.

“Baby,” said Joel, more a long-bated exhale than a word at all. Gritting his teeth, hands at his sides, he watched in disbelief as you explored him, your manicured hand gently palming the hard length in his jeans. The moan he let out surprised himself.

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips, your arms winding around his neck, perfumecherrieslipgloss—

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Joel’s hands, no longer balled into fists, flattened against your arms and travelled their length, exploring your contours, dipping his palms into the curves of your shoulder blades, lodging himself firmly in the after with you.

You shivered, and he liked it.

“You need someone to touch you, too, baby girl.”

Not a question. You nodded anyway.

“Words,” he demanded.

Your lips parted and suddenly your noses were brushing, the pupils of your heavy eyes expanding, taking all of him in.

“I need you to touch me, Joel.”

“I know,” he said, one hand smoothing down the crown of your head, the other trailing featherlight up your spine. “I’m gonna kiss you, baby.”

You nodded again, a little feverish, pulling yourself closer to him, your thighs squeezing his. “Please.”

The after began with you, the way it will end with you. And he's kissing you now, too, swallowing the sounds of your orgasm as you hold him so tightly to you there's no escape. Not that he wants to leave. Not that he finally has this.

He's breathing life into your climax and burning it bright, hot, endless—that’s my good girl, coming so much for me, I know it's a lot, baby girl, just keep holdin’ me, that’s it, sweetheart.

And he's coming, too, grasping your hips so hard they'll bruise, nipping your earlobe and your jaw and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, spiralling out of control, squeezed so tight by your hot, wet pussy. He comes with a pinch of pain in his lower back, groaning your name into you, pitching up into a near-whine as you milk him, guide him, coax him.

Fuck, fuck… goddamn—

Daddy, I need your cum. Please come inside me.

I will, baby girl, I will… Jesus—

It's so warm and slick where his cock begins to pulse inside you that he couldn't pull out if he wanted to. He empties himself, absolves himself, no longer a sinning man but one cleansed. Your body begs for it, your cunt pulling every drop from him, letting him make a mess of your used hole. Joel grinds absently until it's too much, until he’s sensitive and softening and trying not to collapse on top of you.

Your lip gloss is smudged. He licks his lips and tastes cherries.

“You okay, baby?”

You wince as he pulls out of you, globs of cum pooling at your hole and dripping onto the bed sheets. “Mhm.” You pull him closer, asking for a kiss he happily gives you.

“I feel good. I feel happy.”

He grins into your throat, littering meagre kisses in the junction there. “Did so well for me,” he mumbles.

“Tell me something,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair.

He purrs at the satiating scratch of your nails, his head resting on your chest. “Mmm.”

“Do you really like the Miller Macchiato, or are you just ordering it to make me happy?”

Joel chuckles, playfully taking your nipple between his teeth. “It's grown on me.”

From here, where he can feel the thrum of your settling heart reverberate through his skull, Joel gently tucks the beating organ back between your ribs for safekeeping. Here, in the clear-blue space of after, he doesn't need to hold it to know he's got it. He only needs to lower his ear to your chest and hear it sing his name.

tagging some friends who showed interest in the wip!!: @casa-boiardi @swiftispunk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cool-iguana @morning-star-joy @party-hearses @5oh5 (i love you all 🫶)

#tw: daddy kink #kiwisbell's fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #daddy!joel

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