#'he would not fucking do that' is a constant saying in my mind

[vieoeil-riae]

yourself and I

steb/gn!reader

warnings: masturbation, caught masturbating (steb), hand jobs, eye contact, praise kink, submissive!steb, aspects of nonhuman genitalia (a lot more precome), porn with plot, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, selectively mute!steb, sign language (BSL), steb the bf hater as a treat, 18+ MDNI, 4.4k words

synopsis: You find familiar help when spiraling rent prices bite you, it sends Steb spiraling into guilty realisations of his own.

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Rent in Piltover was always extortionate. An arm and a leg, as well as your firstborn child would just about get you a dingy flat in the worst spot imaginable. You’d grumbled over it relentlessly, slowly being driven mad by flat after flat that you considered as being ‘alright’ ending up well out of your price range.

You’d confided in your childhood friend of course, silent, seemingly unbothered by everything, but an amazing listener once you looked just an inch past his quietness. God was it a relief, relationship drama; philosophical tangents; ranting about rent prices; even the most vulnerable secrets were safe in Steb’s capable hands.

It was only natural that years of sticking together and staying by his side — especially when people tried to oust him for his appearance and apparent dislike for talking — would foster the safe feelings between you. He was a haven of understanding.

“I’ve lost my flat, I’m losing my boyfriend, I’m so cold,” You grumbled, nearly yelling as your hands moved in time with your words — years of watching Steb sign to you baked into your habits, “and I have no fucking money!”

The two of you had been walking back from a hole-in-the-wall pub, somewhere where the food was cheap and the atmosphere was cozy. You’d fought to pay your share of the bill, insisting on not troubling Steb, and were promptly reminded that neither of you would ever be in debt with each other with several firm hand gestures. In short, he paid.

His ears had swivelled down at your words, not from the volume, but because he was concerned. He’d taken you out mostly as a way to console you when you’d shown up at his door with a tight lid on your emotions, but a sheen of tears clinging to your lash line.

Two weeks to find another place, was what you told him, and his frills had flared — a sharp twinge of his eyebrow evidence of the way he felt deeply irritated on your behalf.

Your boyfriend was another topic he knew intimately well. Too well. He didn’t like him, to say the least. Self-centred, lazy, stupid. A myriad of insults towards that man could be dredged from his mind, but not shared; not out of respect for him but for the sake of not upsetting you too much. You could do better, without question, he wasn’t against you losing him if he was being honest.

Steb had draped his coat over you despite the chill that brushed over his skin and walked you all the way back home, quietly and logically rolling around ideas on how to help.

The next day, you were surprised by the sight of your best friend standing in your doorway well past dark when you finally came home from work, ears pricking at the sound of your footsteps. 

You could always stay with him, if you wanted?

And who were you to say no, you’d agreed quickly to sharing his space — a look of relief washing over your face. He really would’ve asked sooner if he knew that was the expression you would’ve made.

At the same time, maybe he shouldn’t have asked at all. 

It was only natural that years of being so close had led him to be… partial to you. It made sense because to him, you’d always been ‘good’ in every way in his eyes; even the ugly parts, because they were yours, and you were beautiful, full stop. No, he’s not being biased, you just were — it was objective.

It had been a lingering thought in the back of his mind for years, coated in the plausible deniability of simple familiarity and friendship until the feeling’s cloak was lifted by the new, constant proximity to you. 

You were everywhere all of a sudden. Your clothes were in his laundry hamper; your favourite foods were littered about the kitchen cupboards; he could smell you on the couch cushions — his frills fluttered as they nearly tasted the scent of your damp skin after you showered.

When exactly his feelings had become more than friendly, he wasn’t sure, maybe they’d always been that way, but it was starting to drive him mad.

You’d tell him about arguments you and your boyfriend had more and more frequently, his heart clenching at the thought of you being shouted at, cock woefully jumping at the thought of you shouting back. It was a guilty feeling, mind split between feeling the lewd ache of it and watching the curl of your lips, not paying the attention he ought to.

You’d wear pyjamas around the house, his heart growing warm and fuzzy at your comfort, biting the inside of his cheek when he eyed the sliver of skin revealed when you reached for anything on a high shelf. He blinked and caught the thoughts by the neck, you weren’t a piece of meat. But god, the stretch of your skin looked heavenly.

You’d touch him even more — from little brushes of your hands on his hips to gently shuffle him out the way to melting into his arms on the couch after a long day — his heart throbbed at the closeness, so did the rest of him. He prayed you never noticed the way his breathing picked up.

Steb tended to do the washing, a task off your back, a good distraction from your wonderfully consuming presence until he found himself blushing around your underwear and feeling like a pervert just for touching them, more so when he caught himself thinking much too hard about where the fabric had been pressed all day. He groaned quietly.

Fresh out of the shower, you looked like temptation; water still dripping down your collar bones and beyond until it finally met your towel. His eyes traced the droplets when he was sure you weren’t paying attention. You brushed your teeth together, he’d watch the way you’d gag brushing your tongue. Every action, completely innocuous until his mind decided it wasn’t.

It was wrong, so very wrong, to… sexualise you. You were his friend, not an object — you were spoken for as well. A confusing mix of possessiveness and a deep desire to hole up in a cave for several months swirled in his chest every time he thought about that. He couldn’t have you and his mind refused to help him stick to that, so he lived with a clenched jaw.

Guilt followed the way he enjoyed domestic moments with you, and it was getting ridiculous. It felt like he was barely treading water when all he was doing was washing the dishes while you dried them, two trains of thought blaring as he stared at stray water trickling down your bare forearms. Your hands carefully wiped the water off of a knife, your hand pulling the dishcloth up and down so smoothly, Steb blinked hard and tried to swallow the feeling in his throat.

It was like his birthday came early the day you’d finally had it with your boyfriend.

You’d stormed in, cursing up a maelstrom of swears and insults under your breath, collecting up trinkets and books and several hoodies before dumping them into a ratty bag. He watched you carefully, frozen in his place, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lukewarm cup of tea in his hands.

Admittedly you were, crudely put, hot when you were pissed, but admiringly eyeing the sharp way you moved around his flat came second to his concern for you. Steb rounded the counter, crouching a few feet in front of you so you could see his hands ask what had happened.

You’d seethed, the angry scrunch of your brow just a little less appealing when directed at him.

“You, with me. Now.” You’d gestured to the door with a harsh jab of your thumb, leaving no room for argument, though there wouldn’t have been a need for one anyway — he very much didn’t mind doing what you told him to.

He’d trailed you all the way to your boyfriend’s house and waited just at the gate while you pounded on the door. His ears pricked towards the conversation, admittedly (and guiltily) quite nosy about the ensuing spat. The door creaked open and god, how did a guy like that ever catch the eye of someone like you? Maybe he was being too judgemental…

“Your fish doesn’t like me.” Your boyfriend muttered, throwing an irritated glance over your shoulder at Steb.

“No, he doesn’t, and I don’t either.” You dropped the bag on the threshold, not flinching at the sound of something inside snapping. “Take your shit and don’t talk to me again, prick.”

You turned on your heel without another word. It was petty, maybe, but Steb used the last few moments he had before being dragged off to send a thinly veiled, judging glance at your now-ex-boyfriend — the almost stoic, but not quite, look sending your ex into a fit.

More softly, you’d confided in him later that night the words that brought everything to a close:

“‘Too much.’” You’d paraphrased to him, sat with your knees tucked to your chest on the window sill next to him. You looked so ethereal in the moonlight, his heart broke at the thought of you — someone he thought so dearly of — being treated with such dismissal.

He held you tightly, tracing kinder words into your back as he let your tears silently wet the scruffy collar of his well-worn jumper. You breathed in the smell of him, fresh but kind of salty like the sea breeze, until you relaxed entirely — enjoying the feel of his chest against yours, not knowing he was doing the same.

It became harder to distract himself from you after that, there was one less layer standing between him and giving in, one less layer of guilt when images of your nude body flashed through his mind, or how you’d feel; your hands, your lips, your mouth. It was like the blush on his cheeks never went away when you were around.

Though fantasising about you would be perverse, he got off, his palms and sheets a slick mess with the exertion, just trying to get rid of the aching before you got home. His wandering thoughts kept taking him back to you.

What would you sound like? Feel like? He knew from your rants how you liked to lavish your partner with affection, would you do that for him? He fought the image of your hands on him, giving himself to you, losing when he could almost feel your hands replacing his, saturating his senses with a burning pleasure.

His ears burned, hearing echoes of your words spin around his head. You called him beautiful and meant it, you called him a good man too — maybe you’d rescind that if you knew what his palms were doing, but the memory of your half-lidded, content eyes searching his gazing fondly into his made him sigh and arch into the feeling of his hands.

When you looked at him it was like the veil of his isolated existence dropped, like you were in his head and knew every thought like it was your own. You understood him, cut him slack he’d never give himself, but would you still offer him that if you knew? His heart clenched at the possibility you would, heady and electric bolts of want panging through his core.

He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, thumb stroking over the wet tip of his cock, trying to drown himself in the sensation — brows pinched in focus. If he just got off then maybe he could look you in the eye without the risk of you seeing how badly he wanted you.

He didn’t notice you’d come home, though.

You’d been excited about leaving work early, finally knowing what it was like to feel excited about the person waiting for you when you got back. Maybe it was rude to have a thing for your best friend who kindly let you stay with him, rude to play with how you remembered small moments and reimagine them so intimately.

But it was Steb of all people, kind, sweet Steb. Resisting the pull felt more impossible than ever. Maybe it was rude to be looking for him in the guys you dated, it was definitely why the last try failed — stoicism wasn’t dickheadedness when it was Steb, Steb was just calm to the untrained eye. 

You’d finally admitted to yourself that the man you wanted was the one sharing a flat with you. You just didn’t want to ruin what you already had, you doubted he’d leave you forever but the thought of a new gap between you made your heart ache. 

So you flustered awfully when you’d quietly walked past Steb’s bedroom. The slick sounds escaping through the crack in the door were obvious, especially with the lewd sliver of him you could see through it. You ached, you probably weren’t the cause of that and by all means ought to stop looking.

But you, basally, were greedy. Nature halted you in place, staring at Steb desperately stroking his cock.

It was pretty, he was pretty, you wanted to touch him, find all the little faces he could make. Maybe noises too, wouldn’t that be delicious? You were caught up, breathing heavy, unable to look away — tunnel vision set on the way his pre-come glistened in the low light because god, there was so much of it.

He yelped, snapping you out of the spiral you found yourself in, eyes locking with his through the crack. Getting him to make a noise that loud was a feat in and of its own, you couldn’t help but wonder if you could get him to make a similar one another way.

Maybe it was bad that he throbbed at the thought of you coming in, but the thought of you touching him was the only thing that sent a pang of heat through his gut for months, sent his frills fluttering. Shame, mild fear, and unrelenting desire coalesced in a fizzing way that made his cock jump between his slick palms.

You spoke before you thought, interrupting the way his still sticky hands came up to frantically sign apologies at you. “Can I help?”

Far less suave than you wanted, it came out desperate. You had the decency to look mildly surprised at your own words, especially when Steb’s jaw dropped; an intense blush coating him all the way to his shoulders, a shiver running down his back.

You had to control yourself when he cautiously nodded, shedding your jacket in the hall outside, gripping the door far too tight as you stalked towards him. Guilt weighed heavily in his eyes, you were familiar with the look, he blamed himself for a lot of things, but you wanted it gone.

“What’s with the face?” You questioned lowly, leaning over his bare body. It felt unfair, but the down-turn of his ears and now flattened frills sent a wave of satisfaction through you. “Imagining something bad?”

You watched his eyes widen, a caught look that bordered on panic splaying across his features as he turned to look away, but you weren’t having it. You pinched his chin between your fingers, turning his burning face back to you.

His index finger pointed towards you, your breath caught in your throat. He saw your surprise and started to fumble apologies, shaking fingers just barely cooperative enough to twist into the right words. You snorted lightly, the situation hitting you. 

You leaned in.

“I imagine you, too.” You whispered against the shell of his ear, breath ghosting the sensitive tips through a smile and you felt his own breathing hitch against your neck. Your breath nearly burned, the world seemed to stop entirely at your words. The image of you touching yourself, his name falling from your lips, burrowed its way into his mind. Did you feel like he did, carnal, utterly perverse but as sharp as a live wire ready to snap?

He shivered against you, the thin, sensitive skin of his collar bones brushing against the material of your shirt.

You pulled back with a smirk, “why’d you stop?”

He blushed impossibly hotter as you knelt on the bed in front of him, eyeing him hungrily. You knew why, there was no way you didn’t, but you loved to tease him, prod him, make his hands spill his thoughts. You did it for conversation, to get in his head, you were doing it to force his hand and make him say what he wanted. A lewd twist, a new face of your affection.

‘You.’ His index finger pointed at your chest again.

“You can keep going, I’m not stopping you.” You shrugged off your shirt, the planes of your body revealed softer than your words. Steb was transfixed, finally seeing your skin a new light after all the years between you, not simply imagining it. You hummed. “But you’re considerate, aren’t you?”

He swallowed, pride blooming in his chest despite not knowing where you were going. 

“You always think about what other people are thinking, what they could think. You don’t want to scare me off, is that it?” You probed, drawing in closer, never looking away from his eyes even when your hand found purchase on his thigh. Warmth flooded his chest, his ears twitched, and almost guiltily, he looked away from you as if he were afraid of how well you could read him.

“You can’t scare me off,” you whispered into his ear, hand trailing up the inside of his thigh — the delicate kisses of your fingertips making his cock twitch, “you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you.”

Your hand missed his cock, caressing his pelvis and drifting up as you continued to talk. “Wanna know something, Steb?”

He nodded shakily, shivering as your hands skimmed his sensitive sides.

“I think I’ve been looking for you for a long time. I look for your eyes when I’m interested in other people, do you know what I’m saying?” Your fingers brushed his nipple, pinching enough to make him draw a sharp breath before dancing up his chest. He shook his head and you cupped the back of his neck. “I’ve been looking for you this whole time.”

You cupped his jaw, “I wanted you the whole time, because of course I did, how could I not?”

He could feel the weight of your stare, the honesty of your want, as well as the way his frills pulsed along his cheekbones. You wanting him seemed almost incomprehensible, but he wouldn’t deny you; the pooling of anxiety in his gut turned warm, nearly salivating at the thought of finally getting what he had always wanted.

He watched you carefully as you leaned in again, knee wedged between his thighs, barely brushing his throbbing cock. 

“May I?” You asked sweetly, eyes darting to his lips and back up again. You, so willing to act, waited for him — you always cared. When his lips met yours it was like a jigsaw had fallen into place, the warmth of your lips against his, sweet and real, made everything make more sense.

You pulled away, murmuring adoringly. “You’re so soft, I like that, I like you.”

Kiss-drunk, you dove in for more, pressing Steb towards his pillows. Your hand brushed the seam where his fins met his scalp and he shivered into the hot press of your bodies, hips bucking his cock into your thigh. You spoke against his lips, calling him all sorts of pretty words, your other hand trying to memorise the feel of every inch of skin it could find.

You hand found the base of his cock, hard and slick, and you hummed happily into his mouth. You withdrew far enough to get a good look at his eyes, admiring the misty, deep blue of his blown-out pupils. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.” Steb whispered, quiet and sort of raspy with disuse, but the keening pitch, the almost-broken quiver made his desire so evident. His hand moved with his word out of habit, the back of his fingers brushing the underside of your jaw as his flat hand moved down from his chin, and changed direction to cup your jaw.

“God, you’re so good to me, you’re so good.” You breathed, hand wrapping around his shaft, squeezing lightly and reveling in the way it made his shoulders jump. He was right to have imagined your hands feeling better, the lack of his control made the sensation taste sweeter, the feel of your hand giving his cock and experimental pump — careful of the frills — burn hotter.

“Fuck, you’re wet as hell, how long were you at it before I got home?” He let out the quietest whine at the strain in your authoritative voice, rutting into the twist of your hands over his cock frills. “You know, it’s kinda hot to think about you getting off on me. How long have you been pent up?”

Steb’s eyes rolled back, third eyelids stuttering over his foggy pupils as a needy thrum passed through his body. You watched his muscles twitch, his head roll to the side slightly, before you took his chin between your fingers and forced his eyes back to yours. “Don’t look away from me now, sweetheart, isn’t this what you wanted? What you’ve been wanting for a long while?”

A strangled noise caught in the back of his throat at the hungry way you looked at him, eyes dark and lidded and there was a pull to arch into you, showing you everything he could. He could goad you just as well, there was a sharp, intoxicating kick to watching you react to him; no wide, greedy pupils or heaving shoulders at the sight of his writhing were lost on him.

There was a swell of lewd pride in his chest and groin knowing he could make you like this, a thought just as enjoyable as the feeling of being under your hands. And it was nice to give you what you wanted, to scratch an itch deep in you with his body — there was an element of you using him like that that made the frills on his cock flutter.

He hissed at the feeling of you changing pace, watched your eyes trail down to his flushed cock and the sensitive frills decorating it, your fingers ghosting the very edges of them — sparks dancing along the trail your fingertips made. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” You asked, more of a statement than anything, but your voice sounded so clear. Steb’s stomach tensed at your words, a wave of excitement cresting over his shoulders — it was like he could feel your words. 

Your hands flattened his frills on the next downstroke, putting garbled words and heavy breathing in his throat, humping into your hand as his hands — frantic — grasped your bare shoulders. The heat of your skin below his palms added to the tense burning climbing its way up his spine.

“Mm, yeah, hold on like that. You don’t know how much I like it when you touch me.” You softly spoke over the vulgar sound of your hand pumping his cock. He was swimming in feeling, every honeyed word you uttered stuffed cotton on his head. Sweetly, in loving contrast to the lecherous rub of your hand, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t know how much I’ve started to enjoy coming home.”

Steb shivered, eyes fluttering shut at your words and squeezing harder at the wave of sensitivity they brought. 

“It’s because you’re here.” You whispered into his skin, worshipful and adoring in each syllable. You smiled, pleased, at the feeling of his hips bucking with more instinct — chasing his peak in your hands. 

You stole the sense from his mind, kissing away his doubts as cascading reassurances of how much you wanted him, wanted this, and loved seeing him come apart fell from your lips. You brushed your lips over the frills of his cheekbones, bursts of you dancing on the edge of his mind in a way he could never describe, but couldn’t get enough of.

Your eyes looked endless when you pulled away, a shudder passing through his taught body at the way you regarded him so deeply. You didn’t go far, never stopping your hands, only enough to see his eyes. His leaking tip throbbed.

“I love you.” You told him quietly, almost bashful despite your sensuous touch. Tender, so tender and intentional, you meant what you said. The debauched, glazed look in your eyes sending a shiver through his spine — turning the pooling heat in his gut fizzing with the approaching peak of ecstasy.

“Don’t hold back, Steb.” You ordered softly, aware of the violent jerk of his hips, the choked whine he made when you matched his bucking; the hand stroking his cock hitting every sensitive ridge, the other lost to the bare stretches of skin it could reach.

He jolted, hissing as he came, curling towards you; unintentionally rough, your teeth clacking as he kissed you, frenzied, urging, trying to feel more of you. Your hand worked until he twinged away from your touch, you let him, still caught up in the thrill of watching him writhe because of you.

He panted, eyes refocusing on yours, a gently searching expression crossing his brows. You licked off some of the slick, white come from your hand, snorting at the surprised, then flustered, face he pulled.

“What?” You giggled, fondly eyeing your work. Steb really did look pretty splayed out like that, frills still fluttering with the aftershock, cheeks hued with effort.

He pointed to himself, then pulled a face that seemed to be part of an internal debate you weren’t privy to; like he was looking for permission somewhere. His ears flushed and flicked down.

Steb’s hands crossed flat across the skin just below his collar bones, then pointed a slightly shaky finger towards you. 

‘I love you.’

Your eyes widened in shock of the obvious, and any impulsive words were smothered on your lips by a heartfelt kiss as his pointed finger turned into a hand reaching to cup the back of your neck. Uncontrollably, insuppressible, you smiled into it, heart jumping at the feeling.

“Took us long enough, huh?” You teased, making Steb chuckle quietly. You were pulled in, bare torso to bare torso, and kept close to his skin — feeling the beat of his heart against yours.

A/N: lol died for a bit sorry about that, anyways merry christmas! (half of you have probably read this already 💀)

banner cr: @/anitalenia

[moonchild701]

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Mistletoe Mischief

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Summary: Mistletoe shenanigans

Pairing: Dabi/Gen Reader

Content Warning: Fluff, Kissing, Light Crack(?), SFW

Word Count: 1k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 11th part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Under the Mistletoe

My Masterlist

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It's Christmas Eve, and the League decides to celebrate.

A small thing really, it's just them after all. Kurogiri and Compress are on drinks, Spinner and Dabi on snacks, Toga, Magne and Twice on cleaning and decorations, and Shigaraki is sulking and pretending he doesn't want any part of it all, while you set up the Christmas tree you managed to get.

After hours of decorating and setting up the bar with a variety of drinks and snacks, it's all ready. You pop one of the large candy canes in your mouth, suckling on the end of it to try to make it into a sharp, festive weapon as you add the last few candies to the tree.

The air is warm and cozy for a villain base, but it's to be expected with this bunch. You feel a familiar waft of heat behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Dabi there, as expected. Your heartrate increases, but you ignore it.

"Is all of this really necessary?" He drawls, hands stuffed into his pockets. You thought Shigaraki was the only Grinch, but it seems he has company.

You stand up to face him, popping the candy cane out of your mouth to point the slowly sharpening end at him. "Yes, because it's Christmas, and some of us happen to like joy."

He holds his hands up in surrender, muttering, "Noted.", and you roll your eyes, popping the cane back into your mouth, the curved end dangling out.

You see him eye the candy in your mouth, so you offer a new one from the bowl. He shakes his head, but by the glint in his eyes, you know he's up to something.

You're proven right when he steps into your space and grabs you chin between his fingers, tilting your head up, and you freeze in confused shock as he brings his face close to yours.

Something in your brain glitches when his gaze locks onto yours as he takes the other end of your candy cane between his teeth, snapping a piece off.

You're frozen to the spot even as he releases you and pulls back, only coming to when he hums lowly. "Sweet.", he says, smirking cheekily at your dumbfounded expression before sauntering away.

Your heart is racing and you're warm all over.

That was just unfair.

He's hot, you know, but boy is he annoying sometimes. You don't know what you want to do more, kiss him or smack him.

Huffing, you go back to decorating, trying to will your mind to stop replaying the moment over and over again, and pretending that you didn't wish for more.

You don't see the way his eyes linger on you, on your lips around the candy, from across the room.

*****

Who put Toga on decorating duty? How could you forget, that the one thing that is a constant with her, is the concept of love, and that she would use any opportunity to enforce it?

How did you not see when she snuck the frankly concerningly large bundle of mistletoe into the bar, much less onto the roof?

When the fuck did she get up there to do it??

It's a healthy green, tied off with a pretty red bow, and you're standing directly under it.

You didn't mean to, because you didn't even know it was there until it was too late, with you only knowing because of the high pitched squeal Toga let out, because apparently, she's been watching it like a Hawk to catch her first victim.

And that victim is you.

"Well, Merry Christmas to me.", comes the familiar smokey voice of Dabi, and you feel yourself flush, but unable to drag your eyes away from the bush that might just solve the problem of your pining.

'Will he kiss me this time?' You think to yourself, hoping against hope that that is the case.

When he comes close enough for you to feel his warmth, you manage to drag your gaze to him.

Azure eyes are soft on you, with a simmering heat behind them, shining so pretty and so bright in the surrounding Christmas lights.

Hoots and hollers ring throughout the bar, mostly from Toga, Twice and Magne, the menaces. "WELL?! KISS! IT'S TRADITION!!" came Toga's excited screech.

Smirking lazily, teasingly, he calls over his shoulder, “You don’t have to kiss someone just because of tradition.”

You feel your heart thunder in your chest, but you relax your posture, fold your arms over your chest, mustering all your confidence and say, eyebrow raised, “So you don’t want to?”

He huffs a laugh, stepping under the mistletoe with you. "Well I never said that."

Finally deciding that there are much better ways to occupy your mouths, he grabs your waist, pulling you to him, and kisses you.

He tastes of smoke and peppermint, and you fall a little more in love with him as you melt into his touch, bringing your hands up to cup his scarred cheeks.

A round of wolf whistles and cheers sound out around the room, and you pull away from the kiss to hide your face in his chest in embarrassment,  having completely forgotten that you have an audience. You hear him chuckle lowly in your ear, the ass.

"Aww, I'm so happy for them" Twice says, sighing happily, before switching, "Hey, so you're actually going to enjoy Christmas this year instead of being a Grinch?"

Dabi barks out a laugh, hugging you tightly. "Definitely.", he replies, and you smile a sappy little thing, tilting your face up again.

He looks down at you, soft and adoring,  and leans back in to kiss you. Smiling into the kiss, he whispers against your lips, "Merry Christmas, Dolly."

Surrounded by your friends, your family, with the man you love in your arms, it's a very Merry Christmas indeed.

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[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

No because I have such a visceral reaction to fanfictions that have the characters do something that they would never do. “He would not fucking say that,” actually causes a genuine physical ailment in my body. The world is caving in on me. I feel sick

[abnormallycreative]

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[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[isamoa]

“ WHAT GETS THEM HARD! ”

jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.

ᰔ、summary. jjk scenarios on how their dicks get hard ofc

ᰔ、tags. (ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso), nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, sexting, masturbation, etc.

ᰔ、a/n. these are just my silly depictions. if u dont agree idgaf lol

SATORU GOJO has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive. his pants definitely start feeling a little tighter at the sight of you eating a popsicle or something. specifically in public. he would have no shame in it either—casually forming a smirk on his face and dropping a snarky innuendo about the way you’re eating. “can you suck me off like that when we get home?” he’d mumble from across the table, his eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses, a smirk plastered on his lips; wet from the constant licking of his tongue. your eyes widen, a small ‘pop’ sounding from your mouth when you took the frozen sweet out to gasp at the man in front of you. “gojo! are you serious?” you’d yell in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “you’re right,” he’d sigh, standing up from his chair to reveal the very prominent and very obvious bulge in his pants. “we should just do it now.”

SUGURU GETO on the other hand is a polite man. like satoru, he’s a real freak in the sheets—but not as shamelessly. the littlest things can get him hard for sure, but unintentionally seeing your undergarments would really get him going. like an accidental peek at your panties from under your skirt, or a shirt thats a little too see-through showing off the print on your bra. he wouldn’t say anything of course, not right away. you would just be minding your own business one minute and then he’s dragging you towards the bedroom the next. “sugu- what are you-?” you would ask in a confusing tone, craning your head to look at the said man who was now behind you—pushing your stomach up against the countertop; a single hand brought up to grope your breast while the other laid flat against your hip. “your bra is showing.” he’d let you know blankly; an attempt to distract you while his hand slid it’s way into your pants. you would look down in response to his comment, noticing that your bra was in-fact showing like he said. unfortunately for him, you also already noticed the hardon pressed against your back.

TOJI FUSHIGURO gets hard from eating pussy. simple as that. he will get embarrassingly sloppy—juices coating his face and dripping down his chin, loving every second of it while his cock slowly grows harder. emphasis on grows. and if you think for a second that he does it for your pleasure, think again. this man will eat you out purely for his enjoyment only. his eyes are closed and his hands are squeezing at your thighs—legs thrashing uncontrollably from the uncomfortable pressure in his pants that’s about to come undone. “toji- let me help you.” you’d beg with a whimper, dragging your hand from the top of his head down to his cheek when you noticed the constant shuffling of his legs and the crease in his eyebrow. he’d laugh darkly, the breathy snicker creating a hum between your core that made a whine escape from your lips. “im fine mama,” he’ll say cockily, pulling a hand away from your leg to undo his zipper. “ill cum soon, you don’t gotta do ‘nun.”

CHOSO is a needy guy. his face will turn red at a simple flirty text—but send him a slutty pic and he might just cream his pants. fully naked or dressed in lingerie, his favorite or not, he will definitely feel some pressure down below. he might ignore you for a while, uncertain on how he should reply; if he’s even able to. “fuck- couldn’t wait till i got home, could you?” he’d whine quietly, trying his best to keep his voice down from the bathroom of his office job; one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other rushed to unbuckle his belt. “sorry cho,” you’d apologize from the other line, voice rather faint as you posed for another picture to send him. “when are you coming?” you ask doubtfully just as his phone vibrates with another notification from your contact. “now- im comin’ now baby.” he replies with a huff, phone almost slipping from his ear. “really!?” you try to clarify—much more excited than the first time. “no, i mean im cumming. right now.”

[bi-writes]

Ooo ooo ooo know what I think Simon in MOB would love?? a fashion show after he picks up his girl from shopping. I mean she seems like the kinda of girl to show off what she got, cuz simply she’s just so excited and he’s just so grateful for a show from his little love

mail-order bride (18+)

it's always raining lately. the weather has been cooling as the winter months get closer, and the rain has been a constant reminder of the days coming that would be spent inside.

simon didn't mind spending time inside. he liked being inside, in his house, away from others. when he was home, it was just you there. thing 1 and thing 2 occasionally appear, but it's you that takes up the space in the kitchen watching your dough rise impatiently, you that takes up that corner spot on the couch with your favorite knit blanket with a terrible movie on. the sight of that, he'll never get over it--he'll never get used to the pretty girl that lives in his house and wears his ring and sleeps in his bed and says his last name when they ask her, "your name, ma'am?"

his phone buzzes in his pocket as he ducks his head to get into his truck. he pulls it out, sighing, starting up the car when he reads your message.

all done! waiting at the corner.

when he turns onto the main street, he sees you standing at the corner with your umbrella, waving at him with a big smile. he can't help the one that blooms under his mask; fuck, he's beaming whenever he looks at you.

he puts the car in park, coming out to greet you. you hop on your toes as he comes around the car, and he dips his head under the umbrella as you stand high on your toes and kiss him over his mask.

"simon--"

"missed ya."

"it's only been a few hours--"

"'s too cold ta be out 'ere, baby, let's get ya inside."

you hum as he smooths his hands over your jaw, giving you another kiss through the mask before picking up the shopping bags that you're holding. he takes the umbrella from you, holding it as he guides you off the curb and into the passenger side of the car. he smacks your ass gently as you hop up, and you squeak when you sit down, giggling as you push at his chest.

"simon!"

"wot? wot did i do?"

"you're a dog, i swear."

"dunno wot y'mean, baby, tha's my wife in my car, and she looks bloody lovely."

you bite your lip, shaking your head.

"get in the car, simon, jeez..." you whisper, but your mind is running, and simon is looking way too good in this leather bomber jacket get-up he decided to pull out today. fuck, his arms have never looked so big, have they? has he been working out more?

just as he leans in for more, you put a hand on his chest, smiling down at him.

"slow, down, simon..." you touch your nose to his. "i got a surprise for you. let's go home, hmm?"

simon always skirts over the speed-limit, but you hold his hand extra tight as he swerves a little more than usual on the way home.

when you make it inside the warmth of your house, simon helps you take your jacket and boots off, hanging everything by the door and ripping his mask off so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck and kiss you there, his words muffled as he tries to talk between kisses, as if not kissing you might deprive him of something as necessary as breath.

"wot's the surprise?" he whispers, and you turn around to face him, giggling as he cups your cheeks and kisses you firmly, on the mouth, feverish and eager. "taste like chocolate, buy some sweets while ya were out, did ya?"

"simon--"

"fuckin' hell, don't say my name like tha'," simon groans, backing you up until you hit the wall with a gentle thud. his hand slips into your hair to cushion it, his hand taking the weight of the wall as he kisses you again, harder this time. "so pretty, tell me--"

"simon!" you laugh, "just go sit down...sit, you're so impatient--"

he can't sit still. his knee is bouncing as he sits on the couch, and he sucks on his teeth as he watches the door of your bedroom. it's closed, and he can hear you moving around behind it. a few moments later, you open the door just slightly, poking your head out with a sheepish smile.

"ready, simon?"

"fuckin' hell, ready since the day i was born."

you swing open the door, bouncing into the living room. simon raises his fist to his mouth, biting on it, and he curses under his breath when he sees you wearing the most adorable dress he's ever seen.

it won't see the light of day for a few months since it's nearing winter, but you could wear it at home all you like (he hopes you wear it every fucking day).

it's cherry red. big fluffy skirt, made up of many layers. it's made of linen, with a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves, and it is perfectly tailored to you. simon closes his eyes for a moment, fuckin' get it together, mate, and when he opens them again, you're standing there in the living room, very sheepish, hands behind your back.

"do...do you like it?" you ask. "i...they had this dress there when i went a couple weeks ago, but none of them fit, so i...i asked if we could take my measurements, and..."

"jesus fuckin' christ," simon breathes, leaning his head back against the couch. "baby, please stop talkin'. just for a minute, olright?"

"oh...okay."

simon takes a deep breath. he raises his palms to his eyes, and he rubs them hard. he keeps his eyes closed as he shifts his hips, smoothing a big palm down his stomach before taking a look at you again. he groans a little when he sees you again, standing there all shy, timid, nervous.

"give me a spin, luv," simon murmurs. you take the hem of your skirt and do a small twirl for him, spinning on your toes in the living room. simon clenches his jaw as he watches the skirt flutter a little, the layers underneath swishing and then falling over your thighs again. simon adores a good skirt; it's his favorite thing in the world to put his hands up them, to fondle the lace or cotton of your panties underneath it, to watch your chest rise and fall in panting breaths when he takes you apart with his fingers. he's in love with the way your breasts will fill the neckline of your dress, practically spill over when you bend at the hip and present yourself for him.

christ, he needs to fuck you.

simon cups himself through his jeans, and he relishes in the way your eyes widen. he unbuckles his belt, popping the button and shoving his jeans down until they sit just low enough that he can take himself out. your knees buckle a little as you watch him, your lips parting as you stare at the way he spits into his hand and spreads his wet palm over the tip of him.

"simon," you whisper, your hands wringing together as he tilts his head to the side and smooths his hand down his length. he grunts, shaking his head.

"pull y'r dress down," he murmurs, and you grow warm all over. your toes curl a bit; he's so big, tip nice and wet and pink. the girth of him shocks you, but it's always felt so nice in your mouth. you know how good it'll feel inside you, when you sit on him finally, when he-- "pull it down, baby."

you swallow hard, slipping the sleeves down your shoulders a little. you push it down just a little, just until your tits fall over the neckline and spill out. simon groans loud, his hand moving just a little faster, his head shaking a little more.

"come 'ere, baby," he says lowly, patting his lap. "come 'ere, let me put my mouth on ya."

you walk over shakily, making your way to him. you put your hands on the back of the couch before you settle with both knees on either side of him. as soon as your tits dangle in his face, he's leaning up and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you gasp, arching your back, and even with your skirt covering your laps, you can still hear the wet slap, slap, slap of simon's wet palm frantically pumping his cock.

"fuck--fuck," simon croaks, letting your go. there's a bit of drool pooling along the side of his mouth, and he swallows it down before nodding towards you. "sit back, sweet'art, let me see--"

you put one palm on his knee, leaning back, and use your other hand to gather up your skirt and lift it. simon sucks on his teeth as he sees your cunt, wet panties sticking to it, and he moves his hand a little faster.

"please cum, simon," you beg, your fingers pushing your panties aside. his face falters a little, his hand moving just a little sloppier, and you whimper. "please--please give it to me--"

he lets out a low breath as he cums, aiming at your cunt and watching as he paints your folds. you use your fingers to spread it, dipping your fingers inside yourself with a whine before moving them against your clit gently. simon uses his other hand to grip your hip, drawing you just close enough that he can smooth his cock through your folds, spreading your slick and his own cum and making a mess between your thighs. he chuckles, hearing you cry out, and you meet his eyes with tears.

"just the tip," you beg, moving your fingers along your clit faster. simon grins, so mean, licking his lips. he makes no move to help you, but he doesn't put himself back in his pants, either. "simon, j-just the tip--c-can i have just the tip?"

"oh, just the tip, luvvie?" simon murmurs. "think ya can take it? just tha'?"

"please--!"

your fingers are in a frenzy. it's so close, you can feel it, that beautiful mountain, you're climbing it, clawing your way up, and you just need a little more.

"simon!"

you nearly fall backwards. if it wasn't for his hand gripping your hip, you would've, but he catches you easily, his brows furrowing together as the tip of him slips inside of you nice and easy. your hips jerk a bit, rolling as you use just that much of him inside of you to bring yourself closer and closer and closer--

"fuck," simon breathes when he feels you cum. you tighten, sucking him in just a little more as you spill around him. globs of sticky slick pool along his cock, and you use a shaky hand to grip him gently and keep him there. even with just the tip, it feels so nice to be connected to him, to have him inside you, even just a little. your brain feels fuzzy and warm, your legs feeling blissfully weak as your spine melts a little into his hand just enough. he leans you forward until you're resting on his chest, and you squeak when he slips out of you. simon wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close, and your eyes flutter shut as you mouth at his neck absentmindedly.

"can't wait for it," you whisper against his skin. he's hot there, a little sweaty, and you lick timidly up his jaw to taste him. he grips your hair tight, smiling, and he pulls you back just a little so he can look into your eyes.

"and wot are y'gonna wear when i finally have ya, aye?"

you smile back, giggling soft.

"absolutely nothing, of course."

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (06)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content fluff, suggestive (sorry...) unresolved tension, a slight panic attack (nothing too serious!), confrontation, lil angst?!?!

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 05 ! 06 ¡ 07

rafecameron

WY@ - brent faiyaz 

liked by sarahcameron, ryanontop and 1,982 others

rafecameron Doing shit I really shouldn't do for real 🤷🏼‍♂️

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It’s been three days since you last kissed Rafe, and yet, you still couldn’t get the thought out of your head, reminiscing over the memory each time you strived to distract your mind from it. 

Waking up the next morning was like a punch to your stomach, your hopes of it being a dream instantly destroyed with the harsh reality of kissing Rafe. You ended up practically locking yourself in your room, too afraid Rafe might say something, address the said kiss and stupid mistake of reaching for his face in the first place. 

To your surprise, Rafe did not bring it up, greeting you with a sheepish grin once you joined them downstairs. It puzzled your brain, as it filled with a million questions over why he didn’t make an effort to bring it up. It was slightly disappointing, even if it was a mistake, he had every right to sort out the situation, pull you to the side and remind you how wrong it was to kiss him, knowing well aware that he was forbidden to the touch. 

But he didn’t, and if he did hint it, you definitely chose to look past it, brushing it off everytime you found yourself alone with him, choosing to avoid the situation and feign ignorance to the way your heart would stupidly flutter.  

Now, three days have passed, and things are, well, they’re normal. Your friends were surfing, while you sunbathed on the shore, not in the mood to get yourself wet. Rafe, of course, never left Ryan’s side, messing around with your brother to get him riled up, knowing how mad he easily got. 

Their giggles echoed through the distance, tugging a faint smile on your lips as you admired from afar, squinting your eyes due to the bright sun beaming through your skin, blocking your vision even with the pair of sunglasses you had on. 

Your arms plopped up against the towel beneath you, supporting your body from giving out, even after maintaining the same position for over a while now. The smile on your lips faltered at the sight of Rafe exiting the water, straightening up when you noticed him strolling in your direction. 

Heat flushed your face as you caught sight of his bare chest, waterdrops running along the sunkissed flesh, leading down to his drenched shorts, as they hung low around his hips. Your throat ran dry when your gaze halted just beneath his bellybutton, the trail of hair leading to under the fabric of his bottoms leaving little to the imagination. It drove you crazy, eager to see where it guides, head wandering with sinful thoughts every time you caught sight of it. 

You cleared your throat, busying yourself with something else, fearing Rafe would catch you practically thirsting over him. The latter however, didn’t say much, dusting the sand off the towel beside yours, before he sprawled himself next to you, crossing his legs to mimic your position. 

“Why aren’t you joining the rest?” Rafe questioned, cutting through the comfortable silence. 

“Not in the mood.” You replied, keeping your answer short, afraid your voice would crack if you further spoke. 

“‘S that so?” He shot back, nudging your foot with his knee. “You’re boring.” 

“Boring?!” You muttered with defense, offended by the remark. “Take that back.” 

“Hmm…” he trailed off, squinting one of his eyes, blinded by the scorching sun. “No.” 

“You’re such an idiot.” You scoffed, stifling out a laugh. “Are you not going back in the water?”

“I am,” he exclaimed, now turned in your direction. “Can I borrow these real quick?”

“Borrow what?–” Your question was cut short, as Rafe’s hand came in view, not giving you a chance to process his action as he snatched the sunglasses off, causing you to yelp with surprise. “What the hell?!”

“Oh, these are nice.” He mumbled, adjusting them around the bridge of his nose. “A bit small, but ‘s fine.” 

“You’re stretching them out!” You gasped, reaching for them back, merely for the boy to dodge your hand, tilting his head down with a mischievous grin smeared all over. “C’mon, Rafe, don’t be like this.” 

“Like what?” He cocked his head to the side, observing you through his now tinted vision. 

“Rafe!!” You cried out, fully sitting up now. “I spent my hard earned money on these, I’ll kill you if they break.”

“Your hard earned money?” He repeated, further teasing you with his comments. 

“Okay, my dad got them for me, but–” you started, growing a bit embarrassed at the admission. 

“I’ll give them back,” he hummed, taking them off and folding them in place. “Only if you join me, though.” 

“I’m not going in the water.” You refused, dismissing his attempt with a nod of disbelief. 

“Why not?!” He cooed, “Come on, it'll be fun.” 

“Are you crazy?” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “I’m not getting my hair wet.” 

“Please?” He further pleaded, jutting his lips into a pout. “Ryan left, who am I gonna be with, now that he’s gone?”

Your head shifted back to the water, merely to confirm his statement. And true to his words, Ryan was no longer in sight, having probably disappeared back into the house in the short while you and Rafe were arguing. 

“Hang out with the rest.” You shot back, addressing your friends, as they messed around with each other. “They’ll keep you company.” 

“Have you seen them?” Rafe’s face twisted with disgust, his lips forming into a frown. “They’re eating each other’s faces, God knows what they’re doing in that water.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” You replied, disregarding his statement, and looking past the last sentence he muttered. You saw your chance, and took it, contemplating before you snatched the pair of glasses from his hold, muffling your next words with haste. “I’ll kill you next time you steal my stuff.” 

“Is that a yes?” Rafe perked up with excitement, taking your silence as a yes before he shot up, instantly offering you a hand. “Let’s go.” 

“What?” You angled your head back, locking your gaze with his, slightly taken aback by the hand he offered. “I don’t recall agreeing to this…”

“Well, you’re obligated to join me now; don’t give me false hope then back down when I urge you to do it.” He started, his words somehow foreshadowing a deeper meaning to the teasing statement. Rafe bent down, just enough to take his hand in yours before he pulled you up, a screech of surprise rattling out of your throat. 

“Rafe!” You chanted with disbelief, stumbling over your own feet in the process of running, unable to catch up with Rafe, who hurried his way to the water. “Slow down!”

He replied with a chuckle, a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins as the water touched your feet, engulfing your legs with each step you took, halting when it was just above your knees. 

“Wait– fuck, it’s cold.” You started, hands grabbing Rafe’s forearm for support, a mere attempt to stop him. And it did, with the boy pausing to steal a glimpse in your direction. “Let me get used to the water temperature.” 

“You’ll get used to it in no time.” He rolled his eyes, though he slowed down his pace, walking leisurely for you to adjust to the cold. 

Rafe chuckled as a wave came crashing against your bare torso, stiffening in your spot as a shiver ran down your spine, causing goosebumps to break out across your arms. A deep sigh tumbled past your parted lips, finger nails practically digging into Rafe’s arms everytime a wave would hit. 

Your friends greeted you from afar, not questioning the fact that you were alone with Rafe, a big distance separating you from the rest. Deep down, you speculated the fact that they knew, choosing to avoid the topic every time Sarah would ask about Rafe, or whether there was any progress in whatever you had; which you’d dismiss, telling her it was nothing. 

“Can we stop here?” You questioned, when the water barely reached your chin, now standing on your tippy toes to keep yourself steady with the flowing water. 

“Here?” Rafe repeated, brows knitting with confusion. “Why, are you scared?” 

“Slightly, yeah.” You admitted, pursing your lips into a thin line to avoid water from entering your mouth. “This is the deepest I’ve been without a life jacket.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Rafe’s expression coiled with concern. 

You nodded, angling your head up, not risking how rocky the waves get. 

“Don’t worry,” Rafe suddenly spoke, earning your attention when his arm sneaked around your waist, ceasing some of the distance separating you from him. “I got you.” 

“Nope, that’s it, I’m getting out.” You muttered, turning in his arms, in an attempt to walk back out, merely for Rafe to tighten his hold around you, with your back now pressing firmly to his broad chest. 

Your breath caught in your throat, suddenly very aware of his presence, and the mess you got yourself into. For some reason, this felt oddly intimate, despite the boy’s pure intentions, striving to convince you to continue on with him, in spite of you refusing to. 

“I’ll hold you.” His voice dropped barely above a whisper, turning you back around, all while keeping himself steady. “Don’t be scared.”

“But I am scared,” you replied, emphasizing the ‘am’ in the process. “Sure, I know how to swim, but what if you get a cramp, and I try to save you, then both of us drown?” 

“Come on, I’ll be your life jacket.” He grinned, deliberately dragging you deeper into the water. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You uttered, eyes widening when your feet could no longer reach the ground. “My parents will kill you if something happens to me, I swear to god.” 

“Then I’d have to get rid of both of us.” He joked, halting when you were far enough from the shore, stilling you with the arm sturdy around your waist. “How is that? Wanna go deeper?” 

“No!” You quickly shot back, hands flying to his shoulders, holding onto them to keep yourself from sinking. “This is good.” 

“If you say so.” He chuckled, ignoring the way his pulse quickened when your hands made contact with the skin around his shoulders, your nails lightly dragging over the flesh. He rubbed soothing circles to your side, the gesture a mere attempt to ease you up. “Relax, nothing is gonna happen to you.” 

“I’m relaxed.” You lied through your teeth, avoiding Rafe’s gaze, and instead admiring the view surrounding the rocky path leading to the mountains. “It’s so pretty from here.”

“It is.” Rafe mumbled, attention fixed on you. “Super pretty.”

Your lips tugged into a smile at his words, head shifting back in his direction, where he was shamelessly staring at you, not even failing to hide it. You dusted your face with your fingers, flashing Rafe a confused look, as to question why his gaze burned through you. 

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, coming to a halt when he shook his head. “Then what is it?” 

“Nothing,” he stifled out a laugh, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re jus’ pretty.” 

“What?” You choked through a breath, growing flustered from the sudden compliment. “What was that for?” 

“What?” Rafe’s tongue darted out, coating his lips with a glossy layer of spit. “I said, you’re pretty. Is that not allowed?” 

“Shut up.” You shoved his shoulder, laughing off your embarrassment, though your ears burned with heat. 

“You know,” Rafe swallowed, admiring your surroundings. “I heard there were sharks in this area.” 

“What? Where?” You shouted, heartbeat quickening as panic settled in. “Don’t fuck with me, Rafe!”

“I thought you liked sharks.” His voice lowered with suspicion, eyebrows arching in a teasing manner. 

“Not as they’re about to fucking eat me.” You replied, fully ceasing the distance as you wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck, pressing your chest close to his. “Get me out of here.” 

Rafe took your horror as a chance, the hand on your waist trailing up your back, until it settled just beneath your bikini top. “Relax, it was a joke.” 

Your head turned to face him, ready to scold him before you noticed how close he was, nose tulling to brush over yours. A shaky exhale stuttered out of your throat, shivers running down your spine when you caught Rafe’s gaze flickering to your lips, the action so subtle, you would’ve looked past it if he wasn’t mere inches away. 

Rafe’s lips slightly parted, tongue fidgeting with the roof of his mouth, fingers squeezing around your side, striving to hold himself back, and not kiss you right then in there. You were close, a little too close for comfort, he wanted nothing but to fuck the barrier Ryan created for you two, dive in and hope for the best. 

His thoughts were interrupted when you shoved his shoulders, eyebrows furrowing as your lips jut into a pout, one evidently displaying your distress. “That wasn’t funny! Why would you joke about that?!” 

“Chill, I’m messing with you.” Rafe snickered, eyes glued to your face, well aware he’d betray himself if he let his gaze wander past your neck. 

“By telling me I’ll get eaten to death by sharks?!” You huffed, pausing as you angled your head to the side. “Wait– how’d you know I like sharks?”

“I have my ways.” He cooed, pupils dilating with glint. 

“Mhm, yeah right.” You rolled your eyes, figuring it was either Sarah, or your brother. “Let’s head back.” 

“But we just got here!” Rafe protested. 

“I don’t trust you.” You defensively shot back, shuffling around in his hold. 

Rafe chuckled, abiding to your order. He swam back, with you clinging to him for dear life, not daring to risk it and let go. Though, of course, that wasn’t the end, as Rafe suddenly froze, groaning while his face twisted in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” You immediately asked, concern washing over your expression. 

“I think– fuck.” He groaned, arms loosening around your waist. “I think my leg is cramping.”

“Wait what?” You frowned at his statement, eyes widening with shock when his figure disappeared out of sight, suddenly struggling to level himself with you. “Are you serious, oh my god, should I call for help?!” 

You nearly submerged under water when your arms reached for the latter, struggling to drag him up as he sailed down, your hold the only thing keeping him from sinking further into the deep sea. 

Wasn’t it easy to drag weights in the water? So, why was it so difficult to get Rafe to the surface?

“Don’t fucking drown on me, Rafe, please.” You muttered with frustration, heart welling with fear, as your vision blurred, the corner of your eyes brimmed with tears. “Somebody help! Please! It’s an eme–”

Your words cut short when Rafe came in sight, water splashing everywhere with the force of him exiting the water. Your mouth gaped to speak, met with utter silence in return, observing as Rafe chuckled at your reaction, feigning ignorance to your panicked state. 

“Did that get you?” He erupted into a fit of giggles, wiping the water from his eyes. 

“Are you serious?” Your tone washed with disbelief, heartbeat so loud you could hear it thumping through your ears. “Why would you joke about that?”

“Take a joke, it’s not that serious.” He stated, the smile smeared on his lips fading when he noticed how upset you visibly looked. 

“A joke is supposed to be funny, dickhead.” You fluttered your eyes, unable to manage the tears rolling down your face. “What if something actually happened to you?” 

“Wait, are you crying?” His breath hitched as he let realization sink in, chest swelling with discomfort at the consequences of his actions. You weakly punched his torso, fleeing from the touch when Rafe attempted to inch closer to you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His hands cupped your face, resting just above the curve of your jaw as his thumb wiped away your tears, now mixed with salt-water. He repeatedly rubbed his finger over your cheeks, striving to calm you down with the subtle gesture. 

“It won’t happen again,” he started, tilting your head with the hands engulfing your face. “I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously.” 

“Whatever,” you dismissed his apology, though deep down it softened your heart. “It still wasn’t funny, I was scared you’d actually die.” 

Rafe’s lips twitched into a smile at your statement, unable to contain the laughter bubbling through his chest. You looked absolutely adorable, leaving him speechless as his action spoke for his affection. He moved forward, leveling your head down before he ceased the distance between you two, and capturing your lips in a soft peck that lasted a near of five seconds.  

Your body stiffened at the gesture, so taken aback you almost choked on your own spit in the process. The plush of his lips brushing over yours felt like feathers, as the warmness of his mouth engulfed your skin. It made you yearn for time to stop, enjoy this while it lasted, even if it was for a short moment. 

“There, it’s completely my fault.” He whispered once he pulled back, face mere inches away from yours, you could feel his breath fanning over your nose. “Does that make up for it?” 

Your gaze seeked his blue eyes through the small distance separating you, finger nails lightly grazing over his arms. Silence heaved the air, as the atmosphere filled with unresolved tension you’ve both been avoiding for the past few days, weeks, even. 

Rafe kissed you, and it’s not some stupid joke to get you riled up, or mess around for a reaction out of you. He did it because he wanted to, completely looking over the fact that you were his best friend’s sister, let alone someone he craved in the dimness of the night, somewhere hidden, where no one would judge him for it.  

Rafe has been dying to confront you about the kiss, turning into a giddy mess every time he would reminisce over the memory of your lips softly brushing over the corner of his mouth. And though it was small, barely a peck, it drove him insane. 

That night, Rafe chose to ignore the guilt rising through his chest as he got off to the thought of you; being able to touch you though he knew you were far out of his reach, not for his gaze to admire. His chest burned with forbidden desire, growing aroused every time he caught you in none but your sheer sleeping shorts, covering nothing and leaving little to the imagination. 

“You know,” Rafe muttered through a ragged breath, “About that ni–”

The palm of your hand instantly found Rafe’s mouth, covering it before he could further speak. You knew exactly what he was planning to say, but you weren’t ready. Not right now, still flustered by the kiss he so casually planted to your lips. 

Addressing the kiss from three nights ago in the middle of the water, mind you, in an area secluded from everyone else? Yeah, no. That wasn’t quite what you had in mind, Rafe left you no choice but to shut him out. 

“Hmm?” You hummed, trying to change the topic.

“What?” Rafe muffled, lips barely moving due to your hand covering his mouth.

“We should leave,” you fluttered your eyes at him, “The sun is setting.”

“Right,” he spoke, eyes shifting down to your digits yet engulfing his chin. “You can let go of me now.”

“Oh,” you swiftly retrieved your hand, clearing your throat as you turned around to avoid meeting his gaze. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Rafe scoffed, following in your steps as you struggled to swim back, breaking into a grin when your arms pushed through the water, slightly splashing the latter with the gesture. “Here, let me help you.” 

“I’m good!” You dismissed the suggestion, letting out a sigh of relief when your feet eventually reached the ground, ultimately approaching a safer zone. “I can handle myself.”

Rafe’s giggles seeped through the silence, watching with a glint of amusement as you aimed for the shore, running your way back to the house when you did so. You gave him no chance to confront you about the situation, though the suspense was killing you, it was just not the right time, nor a good place to do it. 

Freaking out felt like an understatement for your emotions, letting out a silent scream as soon as you approached your room. Fuck, this wasn’t the first time you’ve been kissed, so why did it feel like you were in middle school, sneaking around the playground to kiss your crush? 

It was humiliating, to say the least. Rafe kissed you, and it did nothing but make you grow more fond of him, increasing your affection for him. Butterflies seeped through your stomach, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips, letting yourself go now that you’re alone. 

Your shower filled with giddiness, as you sang along to the lyrics playing in the background, too caught up with the act to realize you’ve spent the majority of the evening in there. You continued getting ready, doing your skincare, and technically everything you would do on an everything-shower day. 

A loud ping caught your attention as your gaze trailed down to your phone, eyebrows knitting with puzzlement when it continued buzzing with notifications. You adjusted the pearl necklace around your neck, fastening your pace when curiosity got the best of you, as you instantly aimed for your phone, heart skipping a beat when you read the contact name of the sender. 

It was from Rafe, multiple messages, at that. 

rafe 👍: Hey

rafe 👍: Come eat

rafe 👍: We got takeout 🥡 

A laugh bubbled out of your throat at the emoji, the invitation silly, yet tempting. 

You: im not hungry! go ahead and eat without me :)

rafe 👍: No

You: boy… wdym no 

rafe 👍: Come down and eat

Your eyes quirked with suspicion, puzzled over why he was insisting despite you refusing. 

You: did you poison my food

You: why are you insisting…

rafe 👍: Damn… I can't even invite you to eat without you making me out to be a dick

You: i mean you are what you eat 😇

rafe 👍:😐 Quit it

You: mb boo

You: is this a date

Rafe’s bubble appeared and disappeared off the screen, the amount of time he took concerning you for a moment. 

rafe 👍: Could be one

rafe 👍: Only if you want it to be

Your fingers hesitantly hovered over the keyboard, staring at the message, as if doing that would make the keen in his statement disappear. You swallowed around your dry throat, setting your phone down, merely to process your emotions. 

A date. 

He can’t say shit like this and expect you not to like him. 

At this point, he was playing with your feelings, and that thought alone had your heart breaking to pieces. It’s only been a month, and yet, you were this infatuated with him. Bearing to cross the line for Rafe spoke to you like no other, breaking the unspoken boundaries you set for each other. 

You don’t know when it started, from lingering gazes turned into subtle touches, eventually oscillated to heated moments smeared with desire. Wanting each other, not being able to do anything about it because it was wrong. It all fuzzed up your brain. 

Rafe was testing you, with each time he threw a hint in your direction. Hell, he should know not to confuse you, as he already went down the rabbit hole of why he couldn't date you, with Ryan warning him every time he’d joke about being into you. 

Enjoying it wouldn't hurt, right? Choosing to push the guilt down and let your heart bloom with joy every time Rafe is around was okay, right? Because it’s human nature, how were you supposed to ignore him when his mere presence was so tempting, making you nothing but crave him more. 

Guilt was temporary, but regretting this? It was going to haunt you forever, tulling you with decisions you hesitated to commit, afraid they would hurt others, fully abandoning how you felt. Those were your emotions, though, your needs, you had every right to take the risk. 

With that, you typed a playful ‘shut up’ back, before heading downstairs, instantly letting puzzlement settle in when you spotted only JJ and Kiara, sitting along with Rafe, who perked up at the sound of your steps.

“Where’s the others?” You questioned, wrapping Kiara in a swift embrace, before you seated yourself next to her. 

“John B and Sarah went out for dinner, and I saw Ryan leave with your dad.” She explained, chewing down the mouthful of food. “I have no idea where Pope and Cleo are, though.” 

“Oh, they said they’re grabbing booze.” JJ stifled out a laugh, eyebrows quirking in a teasing meaning. 

“For what?!” You asked, offering Rafe a tight-lipped smile when he passed you your plate. 

“Shut up, JJ.” Kiara rolled her eyes, fixing her attention back on you. “He’s messing, don’t listen to him.” 

“I’m not lying–” his words cut short when Kiara kicked his knee, the gesture earning a breathy grunt out of the latter. “What was that for?” 

“To keep your mouth shut.” The girl replied, forcing a fake beam across her lips. 

Rafe snorted as they continued bickering throughout the whole time you joined them. He flashed you an apologetic smile, not aware of the chaos awaiting you two. Fortunately, JJ and Kiara excused themselves once they were done, informing you they’d be chilling by the shore for the night, leaving you all alone with Rafe.

The air heaved with tension, the atmosphere filling with unspoken confessions you both oughted to address. Rafe’s been full, using the food as an excuse to enjoy your presence for a little longer. 

“‘You ignorin’ me?” Rafe started, scraping his fork against the veggie pieces splayed on the plate. 

“What?” You shot back, frowning at the sudden assumption. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, it’s just that,” he tilted his head to the side, putting the utensil in his hold down. “You seem uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’m not.” You mimicked, playfully rolling your eyes. “Besides, we don’t even speak for me to ignore you.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded his head, gaze glued to his arm plopped on the table. “You’d rather kiss me instead.”

“What?” A choked cough barely exits your throat, eyes widening with shock over Rafe’s statement. That caught you off guard, even more when Rafe maintained a blank expression, offering you a glass of water to down the rest of your food. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, “Do you need more water?” 

“Why would you bring that up?” You brushed off his concern, his words echoing over and over in the back of your brain. 

“You kissed me,” he repeated himself, stating the obvious. “Did you not?” 

“I did, but–” you stammered, face flushing with heat. “I didn’t mean to?–”

“You grabbed my face, leaned forward, then proceeded to kiss me.” He muttered, reminiscing back to the memory. “What about that did you not mean?” 

“It was a mistake!” You hurried to respond, stumbling over your own words in the process. “I was drunk, out of my mind–”

“Oh, so it’s a mistake?” He snorted, straightening up in his seat. “You go around kissing people when you’re drunk?” 

“Okay, why are you being a dick?” Your nose scrunched with frustration, exploding in the latter’s face. “And if I do? Then what, you’re gonna do something about it?”

“I’m trying to make sense of the situation here,” he shot back, his arm moving in front of his chest. “I’m not fucking around, okay? I’ve been dying to speak to you, but you never gave me a chance to explain myself.” 

“What’s there to explain, Rafe?” Your voice lowered in tone, taken aback by how fast the conversation took a turn. “I’m like Sarah, huh? Then you go n’ fuckin’ kiss me?”

“Why are you switching the–”

“No, let’s discuss the incident from earlier, since we’re fucking talking.” You cut him off, jaw clenching to prevent yourself from breaking down. “You keep pulling these stunts on me– first in the grocery store, then in the car, and earlier in the water– what is it that you want? You know Ryan won’t be happy if he found out, so why do you keep– why do you keep fucking confusing me, Rafe?” 

“I–” Rafe’s words caught in his throat, hands clenching into fists. 

“Forget it.” You clicked your teeth, grabbing your phone as you stood to your feet, streaking your way past Rafe, with the intentions of reaching the stairs. 

Rafe called out your name, voice breaking with despair. “Where are you going?”

The way your name rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat, letting your eyes force shut as you feigned glancing back, afraid you’d give in if you caught sight of his expression. 

You entered one of the guest bathrooms, locking the door behind you before you immediately dialed Cleo’s number, impatiently clicking your fingers over the phone as you waited for the girl to pick up. 

A sigh of relief escaped your throat when she did, a bit of shuffling going on her end. 

“Hey Cleo,” you muttered through a breath, taking a deep inhale, as your thumb pressed to your bottom lip. “I– sorry, I know you’re out with Pope, I jus’ really needed to talk to someone and I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Cleo spoke, interrupting your rambling. “Take a deep breath, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, though she couldn’t see you, obliging to her orders. “Sorry, fuck–”

“Why are you apologizing, girl?” She shot back, attempting to soothe away your worries. “Now slowly, tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“I kind of, uhm…” you trailed off, fidgeting with the ring hugging your finger. “I fucked up, Cleo. I got ahead of myself, and ruined everything.” 

“No you didn’t.” Cleo assured, “What happened? Don’t panic, okay? Everything will be alright.” 

“Alright, I didn’t mean to keep this from you, I thought it would be a fleeing moment, but I guess not?–” You hesitated, nervously biting your lip as you prepared yourself for the confession. “I kissed Rafe, and while it was somewhat, he tried to confront me about it, and I panicked!” 

“Okay, woah, woah.” Cleo uttered, disbelief visible through her tone. “When did that happen?” 

“Three days ago, after the party.” You huffed, angling your head back with a pout. “I’m such an idiot, why am I acting like something happened between us? I lashed out on him and stormed off, what if he regrets it?” 

“Well, you’re the one who kissed him.” Cleo clarified, “Why would he regret it?” 

“Actually– something sort of happened earlier…” you mumbled, clearing your throat. 

“Don’t tell me he fucking kissed you, Bug.” Cleo took a guess, making you freeze in your spot, not denying her suspicions. “He did? What the hell, and you didn’t say anything?” 

“Listen, I barely got time to process it, I was planning on telling you eventually.” A sigh stuttered out of your throat, crying out loud. “I’m so dumb, why did I get mad at him? It’s not even his fault!” 

“Calm down, baby, it will be alright.” Cleo secured, “I’m sure he understands, this is probably bothering him as well.” 

“What if he thinks I’m childish?” You questioned, “I felt so guilty, Cleo, I don’t want his friendship with Ryan to fall apart ‘cause of me.” 

“That won’t happen, trust me.” Cleo advised, her tone soft. “It’s obvious that you’re both attracted to each other, Ryan will have to accept it, he can’t interfere jus’ cause he doesn’t want you dating his friends.” 

“But he’s right,” your shoulders relaxed with disappointment, already imagining the scenery Ryan would put out. “And Rafe doesn’t like me, trust, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he doesn’t.” 

“Ninety-nine?” Cleo cooed, earning a chuckle out of you. “Okay, come on, have you seen him? Pope told me about what happened on the way back, don’t tell me this man is not head over heels for you.” 

“Why’s Pope snitching?!” You scoffed, sniffling as you rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe he might like me, he keeps dropping hints, but I don’t know?” 

“What hints?” Cleo’s tone glinted with curiosity, waiting for you to further speak. 

“He texted me earlier, and I was messing around but instead of brushing it off he went with the flow?” You explained, your words coming off as a question. “Maybe I’m misreading the situation, but let’s say he did like me, then what? What do we do, will we keep things a secret because of Ryan?” 

“Why are you thinking about that?” Cleo giggled, ridiculed by how much you were overthinking this. “Enjoy it, okay? You like him, go for it, don’t hold back.” 

“And if he doesn’t like me?” You stifled out a laugh, leisurely fluttering your eyes shut. “I don’t know, it started off as a joke, but I’m starting to for real like him, Cleo. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.” 

“Okay, there you go, you got your answer.” Cleo chanted, making you shake your head. “Now, I don’t mean to be nosy, but it’s your fault for mentioning it.” 

“God, what is it?” You rolled your eyes, already expecting what she was about to say.

“What did he say in those messages?” She asked, earning a chuckle out of you, as you moved the phone from your ear, already pulling up Rafe’s contact. 

You screenshotted the conversation, Cleo’s voice muffling through the speakers of your phone, her words fully incoherent. “Hold on, I can’t hear you.

Cleo remained silent, waited while you cropped the screenshot, before bringing the phone back to your ear. “Alright, what did you say?” 

“I said hurry up!” She chimed back. 

“Okay, someone’s curious.” You teased, pressing on the photo icon, before you selected the image and sent it over, waiting for Cleo to receive it. “There.” 

“You sent it?” She asked, humming as she pulled up your messages. “I don’t see anything.” 

“What? But I sen– oh.” you halted as you let realization kick in, immediately reaching for your phone, hoping your suspicions might be wrong. “Fuck, Cleo, I sent it to Rafe.”

An audible gasp escaped Cleo’s lips at the statement, words going unnoticed as Rafe’s text bubble appeared on the screen, not giving you a chance to delete it before he saw it. 

rafe 👍: ???

“Oh my God, he saw it.” You whispered, “Wait, let me go back to my room.” 

You creaked the door open, instantly shutting it when Rafe came in sight, heart thumping loud with panic. Your eyes widened a bit, when footsteps echoed through your ears, knowing the owner behind the noises.  

“He’s heading upstairs,” you informed Cleo in a hushed tone, “What do I do?” 

“Where are you?” She asked.

“I’m in the upstairs bathroom, the one down the hallway.” 

“Okay, wait ‘till he leaves, then go back to your room.” 

You nodded, even if the girl couldn’t see you, too nauseous to comprehend normal words out. Hell, that probably weirded him out, what will he think now? 

However, despite how nervous you grew, Cleo stayed on call, assuring you that it would be alright, even though you knew deep down, it wasn’t. 

“Alright, I’ll go now, it’s quiet,” You sighed, breath shaky with anxiousness. “We’ll talk when you’re back, I’m sorry for taking up your time.” 

“Are you sure?” Cleo questioned with concern, “I can stay on call until we’re back, I don’t mind.” 

“No it’s okay,” you insisted, “Besides, I’m tired, I’ll see about this tomorrow, it’s too much to process right now.” 

“Alright,” Cleo exhaled, “Let me know if you need anything, we’ll be back in a bit.” 

You bid your goodbyes, putting your phone down as you aimed for the door, peaking your head out to check whether the coast was clear. Your shoulders relaxed when Rafe was nowhere in sight, tippy toeing your way back to your room, making sure to be as careful as physically possible. 

Barely escaping the situation, your heart sank to your stomach when you unlatched the doorknob, now greeted with Rafe seated on the edge of your bed, perking up when you made your presence known. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled, feeling your throat run dry. 

You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, unable to bear the embarrassment of facing Rafe, now a few feet away from you. 

“You know…” He trailed off, getting up with a groan. “I was plannin’ to give you space, talk things out when you’re ready, but…”

Your fingers clutched to the doorknob when Rafe walked in your direction, towering over you and cornering you against the door, as it leisurely closed within each step you took back. 

“God, you’re killing me.” He whispered, gulping as his gaze flickered to your parted lips, coated with a faint layer of spit.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, hesitating before pressing his hand to your hip, his hold burning holes through your flesh. Your eyes remained on his face, watching as his expression changed into something serious, stirring up your insides with a rush of adrenaline.

You stiffened under the touch, slightly taken aback by the bold move, even as your body leaned into it, chasing after the sensation of his fingers marking your skin. , 

“You know how much you’re affecting me, don’t you?” He hushed out, digits dragging up your side, and tumbling just beneath the material, his touch welcoming the warmness of your skin. “The amount of times I had to control myself, and respect the boundaries I set with Ryan.” 

“Rafe.” Your tone lowered to match his, an inaudible gasp exiting your parted lips when he pinned you to the door, fingers squeezing the plush of your flesh. “What are you doing?” 

Rafe stuck to answering with his actions, bringing his other hand to your face, and taking the curve of your jaw in between his fingers. His thumb pressed to your chin, using it to angle your head up, striving to study your face up close. 

“You’re breathtaking, you know that?” He whispered, smearing your glossed lips with his thumb, the gesture causing you to part your mouth in a sigh. “God, you know how difficult it was? Telling myself you’re off limits; when you’re all I think about, twenty-four, seven; always on mind.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” You exhaled through your mouth, vision going blurry as Rafe leaned his forehead against yours, his hot breath fanning above the bridge of your nose. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Rafe.” 

“I was barely holding myself back,” He muttered, trailing light, open-mouthed kisses to your lips. “It’s your,” a kiss, “fault,” and another, “for tempting,” he paused, “me.”

That was the only sign you needed as you moved forward, letting your guilt wash with new found desire when you captured Rafe’s lips in an eager kiss you’ve both been dying for.

Rafe’s arms sneaked to your sides, locking you in place as he ceased the distance separating you two, though that felt impossible, as he licked and nipped at your lips, suddenly feeling drunk on your sweetness. 

You tasted amazing, way better than what Rafe had imagined, leaving him craving more as he angled your head to the side, with the intent of deepening the kiss. 

In that moment, you didn’t care whether this was a dream, or reality. In fact, you wanted to wake up the next morning with the same giddiness filling your insides, Rafe being the reason behind it. 

You wanted Rafe, the kiss merely proving the yearn tulling your insides, till you no longer were able to bear it. 

Fuck it, you chose to take the risk, let yourself enjoy this while it lasts, knowing that eventually, you’d need to put an end to it; hence Rafe is off limits.

a/n all support is v much appreciated! pulling my hair out i forgot how to write. SORRY ik i didnt do the kiss justice but i just wanted to get the kiss out of the way... dont get bored of me yet i promise theres so much more to squeeze in the next four chapters theyre just entering their situationship era 🙈 ALSO IK I SAID THERE WILL BE TEXTS BUT I LIED next one 100% though!!! anyways yeah i hope you enjoyed, lmk ur thoughts!!!

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[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[coquettepascal]

frosted kisses

pt. ii to texas sweet

summary: after some serious distance, a nightmarish evening at the miller household leaves you and joel closer than before.

tags: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, fingering, pulling out, missionary, almost oral, joel is a consent king, gentle!joel, soft!joel, proud dad joel returns, tommy is here, so are sarah and ellie, don't ask how old they are i really can't tell you, tension, sexual tension, kind of angst(?), realistic sex, reader is in a panic as usual, but joel is really sweet, kissing, neck kisses, biting, scratching, mention of joel's dad gut (yum), joel in a wifepleaser, use of darlin' and baby and honey, one use of good girl, praise kink (a little), takes place during july (texas sweet was in june)

a/n: thank you to my biggest cheerleaders @mochamadeleines and @pascalssbabyy <3 also thank you to everyone for being so patient for this sequel. i hope you all enjoy !! :]

texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

wc: 7.6k (sorry :3)

It is way too hot outside to be doing anything but laying in an ice bath, yet here you are leaving at 9am for your shift. The walk to the bus stop isn’t bad, but it does mean you have to walk by Joel’s house.

Joel.

He never followed through on that promise of taking you out for dinner, but it’s only been a month since that night. The two of you had been friendly in passing, since it’s hard to avoid one another, but you can see the avoidance in his eyes. A little while ago you looked up when “neighbours day” was, remembering how he said to let him know. But, it turns out that’s all the way in May, and it’s currently July… So. 

So you’ve been avoiding each other a little. That’s fine, it was a weird situation for the two of you to find yourselves in. You stared at Joel’s grey-blue truck when it rolled back down the street that night, the headlights flashing yellow on your walls. The hand resting on your chin still smelled like him, like his dick. 

Honestly, everything on you smelled like him for a little while, your shirt especially, but also your skin. Joel wouldn’t leave you alone, even though he physically was. Watching him from your window started to become an obsession, seeing the sweat soak through his t-shirt when he’d mow the lawn on the weekends. You couldn’t stop watching him, remembering how needy he was.

Your achy need for him was a constant at night, only competing for dominance over your mind by wondering how needy Joel was.

Nothing could drive the memory of his whimpers and groans out of your mind, the throb of his cock in your hand, and the way his hands twitched and grasped at nothing when he came. It would attack you at random times throughout the day, especially when you were on the bus coming home from work. Most of your days are boring, repetitive. The same texts from your mom, the same job, the same… everything. Joel was the most exciting thing for you, but that was short lived. It was just one evening.

It’s kind of fucked up how you just have to move on, sweaty palmed every morning as you pass by Joel’s house. It isn’t even like he’s home when you walk by, he starts work at around 8am. You would know because Tommy’s truck is noisy as all hell, it works great as a last minute alarm. 

Or at least he isn’t usually home. 

“Mornin’ darlin,” calls Joel as you step off your porch. 

His voice is just as warm and sweet as ever, like the sun today if it were kinder, but there’s an extra cheerful lilt in it. Turning your head, you see Joel still in his pajamas. It’s a weekday, so that’s odd, but what’s more odd is that he’s hanging balloons outside. 

A light grey wife pleaser stretches around his torso, showing off his thick arms and shoulders. This is not something you’ve seen Joel wear before, but he must have slept in it if the plaid pajama pants are anything to go by. 

It’s the polite thing to do to go over there and say hello, right? That’s what your mom would want you to do, to be neighborly. You’re not going over there to check him out. That would be crazy.

Crossing the grass from your house to his is easy, but spit is all caught in your throat by the time you get over to him. Jesus, are you drooling? 

“Hi Joel,” you manage to reply to his greeting as he tapes another balloon up to the overhang of his garage, “what are the balloons for?”

He grunts as he twists to fix the tape, the balloon nearly falling on his head. The way he’s stretching up is making the wife pleaser stretch up, exposing the skin of his waist. Your fingers twitch, wanting to touch there again. It makes your mind spin, thinking about how your hands have been there, that he knows what it’s like to have you on him. An explicit secret that neither of you share. You wish he was facing the other way so you could see his tummy, the plushness of it was so comfy against your arm.

“S’for Sarah,” he finally responds, turning to face you. 

And oh… oh that’s why he’s so damn happy. He had talked about it in passing a few times during the small talk you had made. Sarah’s birthday was in July and she planned on coming home for it, Joel was so bright everytime he talked about it. His smile is so much bigger when he talks about his daughters.

“Is she coming home today?” You ask, shifting on your feet. Joel nods, tearing off another piece of tape with his teeth.

“Uh-huh, pickin’ her up around noon. We’re doin’ a dinner tonight,” he says. You can see how his eyes are a little unfocused, excited. He sticks the tape to the knot of the balloon and starts to continue his sentence, but is cut off by the front door opening.

The sound catches your attention, your eyes flicking to the door. You didn’t see his truck in the driveway, but there’s Tommy Miller in all his glory.

You won’t lie to yourself, the Miller family clearly has good genetics. Tommy’s got these gorgeous waves in his black hair, and a charming smile too. But, he isn’t nearly as soft as Joel is. Not a player, but Joel’s been worn in by 2 daughters and a divorce, like a well loved plushie. Tommy hasn’t been worn in by anything, in fact he’s known for wearing things out. As much as you’ve heard the whispers at neighborhood events, the other Miller brother has never interested you. Tommy, of course, has shown interest in you once or twice. A few bottles in and he’ll talk to anything.

Today though, Tommy is behaving. He flashes you a kind smile, and nods.

“Hey neighbor-girl,” he greets.

You almost snort. You know Tommy knows your name, but he’s being weird. Did Joel tell him? Probably not. Do brothers share that sort of information? You’re getting sweaty again–

“Saw the flowers y’bought Ole Joel,” Tommy grins, “thought maybe his ex’d dropped by.”

Oh. Oh thank god. Thank god the flowers gave it away.

Joel snorts and then scowls at Tommy, shaking his head. He mutters something about you “having a name,” and suddenly all you can hear is the blood in your veins. A hot rush flies over you, but you’re flushed from the sun anyways. What difference will a blush make? It’s not that obvious. 

Distracted with your anxiety around the two, you barely realize that Tommy is scolding Joel now.

“S’nice girl gave you flowers and y’ain’t even invited her to the dinner tonight?” Tommy scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. Your eyes flash to his arms and Jesus does being brothers mean you’re both built as fuck? 

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice tight, “I was midway through a conversation with’er. Was just about to.”

They exchange a look you can’t really decipher. Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel curls his lip in response. Then, Tommy turns on his heel and goes back in the house.

The heat outside is already uncomfortable, but now you feel awkward. You didn’t realize that Joel would invite you to something. Maybe he didn’t even want to, he just didn’t want to look like an asshat in front of Tommy. Joel looks sheepish in his pajamas, downturned frown neutralizing to a softer smile. He breathes in to speak, but now you don’t want his invite.

“Joel,” you say quietly, “you don’t have to invite me. I’d hate to intrude on your family time with Sarah.” 

You really thought that you’d want to speak to Joel after all this time, but this feels humiliating. A pity invite to his daughter’s birthday dinner? It’s not what you expected, or wanted. As much as you’d like to see Sarah, something about it feels wrong. What would you say?

“Hey, it's been awhile. How’s college been? Good! Aw, I’m glad. Yeah last time I saw your dad I jerked him off. Oh, you’re in STEM?”

No, that’s not what you want. He looks like he’s going to protest, but you have to shut him down. You’ve never really spoken to his other daughter, Ellie. It feels like a nightmare waiting to happen.

“I’m just your neighbor,” you wave your hand, as if you could make this go away.

Joel’s brows furrow, his mustache curling back downwards with his frown. Skittishly, his eyes flick away.

“I… I’d like it if y’came. Even if we’re just neighbors,” Joel says. He seems embarrassed about inviting you, a red hue glowing beneath the sweat on his neck. 

Alone, in front of the garage, it feels like he’s under you again. Why is he so shy? So bashful? Something in you is frustrated. You’ve been waiting for a month for any scraps, anything more than neighborly chit-chat, and now you have to turn him down. Doesn’t he realize you’ve been waiting for him? 

You don’t want to be just neighbors with this Joel, you want more. You want to know him more than just as “hot-single-dad-next-door.”

You want to know him the way you did when you were behind him on the couch.

But… Maybe this is Joel. You saw the pictures all over his house, and he runs a company with his brother. Family is clearly everything to him, and even if this isn’t a dinner-date like he promised, this is something more. It’s closer for him, this is his own version of pulling you in.

Besides, your mom would want you to say yes. It’s polite, right?

You concede to Joel’s wishes, as much as you want something else. He smiles really big when you agree, a shy “okay” leaving you. It’s not like you could ignore him anyways, not with the way his wife pleaser is stretched around him so… pleasingly.

He tells you that there’s a colour theme of black and blue, since Sarah wants everyone to match in the pictures. Joel starts to blab about what a good photographer she is, but you actually shut him down this time, so as to not miss your bus.

—

Somehow, standing on Joel’s porch is a lot worse than last time. You don’t have a bunch of flowers for your neighborly crush, or a set of hands to ease his back. All you have is the guilt in your gut for showing up at his daughter’s birthday dinner. 

It took you almost 45 minutes to pick an outfit. He mentioned blue and black, but didn’t mention what shade of blue. Everything you had felt either too dressy, or was literally pajamas. Eventually you found something that worked, but now you’re in your own head. Will Joel think this is nice? Does Joel even think you’re pretty in the first place? You can’t remember, your mind is blanking. 

Jesus, chill out. You’re going over for dinner, and this isn’t even about you. 

Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you knock.

“I’ll get it!!” A voice yells from inside. Not Joel’s.

Tommy grins at you after he swings open the door. He’s done his hair back, instead of tying it back, and he’s wearing a blue and black, plaid, flannel. The Miller brothers seem to have a flannel for every occasion. 

“Well helloo Neighbor-Girl,” Tommy greets. His smile is devious as he stands in the doorway. 

Loud footsteps rush up behind Tommy and he’s suddenly being yanked out of your view by a hand. 

“Christ, Tommy, leave’er alone.” Joel grunts.

He isn’t wearing a flannel, which surprises you. His usual casual clothes have been replaced by a nice, black, western shirt. The stitching across the chest is done in black as well. Not unlike Tommy, is his slicked back hair. It’s short still, but it looks good pushed back. 

He tells you to keep your shoes on as he leads you to the backyard. You can’t keep your eyes off him as he and Tommy walk ahead of you. That black shirt, stretched across his back, the curls that lick upwards where his hair isn’t slicked. God, he looks stupidly good.

The house looks about the same. Same couch where you jerked him off, same table where the flowers used to sit, same pictures of his family on the walls. Everything feels different. Why doesn’t it look different?

Finally your eyes reach the backyard, and it looks magical. Various lights have been set up to create a relaxed atmosphere, with some comfortable lawn furniture set up on the deck. The barbecue is clearly cooking something, and Tommy walks to it automatically. 

Sarah and Ellie seem to be giggling to themselves, hunched over in secrecy. The sisters whisper to one another, but part once they see you.

“Hi,” Ellie says immediately, her bright eyes looking at you excitedly. You greet her in return, then wish Sarah a happy birthday.

She’s wearing a matching shirt to Joel’s, which is adorable. You know for a fact that Joel wouldn’t dress up past a button up or flannel for most occasions, meaning Sarah probably begged him for this. Even the wash of their jeans are the same. 

You’re just about to strike up a conversation with the two girls when Joel comes up behind you and squeezes your upper arm gently.

“‘M sittin’ over there, if you’d like to join,” he motions to an outdoor couch identical to the one Sarah and Ellie are sitting on.

It’s close enough that you could go back to talking with the girls, but once you’ve sat down beside Joel, they’re back to giggling. 

—

It feels like everybody knows.

This fear from earlier has manifested in front of your eyes, this awful anxiety growing. You could barely finish your food, even though it was delicious. Your mouth is dry all the time, you can’t stop drinking water. You hyperfocus on every little action you take, feeling crazy,

Tommy has been staring at you like he’s holding a secret, his eyes seem to say “I know something you don’t,” and every time you turn your back Sarah and Ellie are giggling again. For them, you try to cut some slack. Ellie is a teen, and Sarah isn’t a lot older than her, they’re young girls, of course they’re giggling. It’s Tommy who’s making you anxious, especially with the scolding scowls that Joel keeps sending him. 

The conversations are fine once you stop eating, mostly with you listening and observing the dynamic in the family. Tommy talks about this recent client he and Joel have been working with as you all eat cake, but it’s hard to focus when it feels like everybody knows what you did.

Joel seems to notice this anxiety over the course of the night, looking at you with mild concern a few times. He even asks if you’re alright at some point, holding the “darlin” for once, and you just tell him you had a rough day at work. Total lie, the only rough thing about this day is how you feel like you’re going to throw up all your food anytime someone in his family starts to perceive you.

Later in the evening, Joel rests his hand on your knee when he reaches for his beer, and you flinch. He seems caught off guard by this, but luckily nobody else notices. His eyes are apologetic as he looks at you, all brown and sappy.

Shame is burning in your veins. He’s invited you here to spend this special night with his daughter and family. He's been so kind to feed you too, but now you’ve made him feel weird too. It feels like your anxiety is leaking out of your pores, a haze of guilt clouding your mind and flooding his. Joel hasn’t seemed bothered at all tonight, or at least he hasn’t shown it. 

But there he is, accommodating you as he leans a little closer and asks;

“S’gettin’ late. I could walk y’home.”

There he is, there’s your Joel. Your Joel, the one who you know as a caring man. In any other situation this would feel like someone politely requesting you leave the party early, but not with Joel. He’s conscious of your emotions, and he can tell you’re too overwhelmed to be here anymore. There’s your sweet boy, reeling you in before it gets to be too much.

You only nod in response.

It’s a few more minutes before you get out of there, with Tommy and Ellie stacking copious amounts of leftovers for you onto paper plates, lidding them with tin foil. You use this time to talk a little with Sarah, asking about her time in college. She’s happy to share with you, and you can see Joel in her. She has the welcoming energy, the same warmth in her that pools in her eyes. Even without the outfits they would match. 

Ellie, however, must be spending too much time with Tommy. They both wear shit eating grins as they hand you the stack of plates stuffed with leftovers, with Tommy asking you to “Come back anytime.”

Blood rushes to your face fast, and you toddle off to the door quickly after saying thank you.

—

The air on the porch is cooler, but your adrenaline is making you run hot. You want to stop sweating, but all the looks and giggles and comments from the night are running through your mind repeatedly. What did they know? How did they know? Joel wouldn’t tell them anything like that, would he? Thank God you didn’t stay long enough to be in those pictures that Sarah wanted to take. 

The front door thuds shut a moment later. Joel’s steps fall heavy behind you, then he’s beside you. He’s barely touched you tonight, and even now he keeps his distance. You’re glad for it, you couldn’t have handled it anyways.

You both walk the short distance to your house, using the pathway rather than cutting through the grass like you usually do. It feels like you should be enjoying these extra seconds of time with him, but all you feel is embarrassed.

He breathes in the cool air of the summer night through his nose, chest puffing, then blows it out.

“I am so, so, fuckin’ sorry,” he says.

It takes you off guard immediately. You felt like you were acting crazy all night just by your own overthinking, but it was also fuelled by Joel’s non-chalantness about everything. He didn’t seem to notice anything all night but you and how anxious you were. This feels like the start of a conversation, so you put the leftovers down on the bottom step of your porch. 

“I– Ellie, when I brought her home after you were over last,” he begins, “she got home and saw the flowers right away. I told her not to make nothin’ of it, but she went and rattled off to Sarah and Tommy.”

Oh, okay. It was just the flowers. That’s good, at least they think you’re a lovesick loser, rather than the neighborhood floozy. 

“I told them to act right tonight, begged’em to. The three of’em have been torturing me about it, I think it’s why I avoided you,” Joel admits quietly. 

He’s doing it again, soothing your worries without meaning to. He’s a cooling balm on your burning brain, a sense of sanity cleansing you. 

Joel wasn’t ashamed of what happened between you two, his family was just being shitstirrers about him receiving flowers. It wasn’t on purpose, and most importantly–

“I’m really sorry, angel. I should have called or– or somethin. Askin’ you to come tonight was askin’ for trouble from them. My daughter’s birthday ain’t makin’ up for shit, ‘specially not when they’re actin’ like that.”

An apology. Joel Miller seemed like a solid man before, one that was dependable, polite, and kind, but now he seems near-perfect. He’s taking accountability, admitting how he acted and why, and apologizing. No wonder he has two incredible daughters, both of whom love him dearly. 

You stand there for a minute, a little speechless. You can’t remember a time that a man apologized to you and seemed to really mean it, or at least understand what he did wrong. But there’s Joel, in his black western shirt that’s rolled up his thick forearms, eyes soft and sorry as he looks at you in the blue-black night. He’s not like any man you’ve met before, not like your dad, friends back home, or your ex-boyfriend. 

Tonight isn’t like any night you’ve had in Texas so far, but for so many different reasons. You’ve had a few weird nights, sure. Like what you shared with Joel, or the time you took the wrong bus home and got lost downtown, but it’s weird in a good way.

Tonight, you get to accept an apology from a man who truly seems sorry. Who’s admitted his wrongs, explained what happened, and more than that he’s been earnest about it. You didn’t have to beg for this apology, or argue why he should apologize. He did that on his own, made up his mind, and said sorry like a real man would. 

It’s hard to make up your mind on what to do though, whether you should throw yourself at him and kiss him dizzy, or to just say “It’s alright, no hard feelings.”

You settle somewhere in the middle, taking his hands into your own. Your thumb pads rest in the centre of his palms, pushing down and massaging his hands. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, voice unsteady. 

Joel isn’t at fault for his family being devious and obviously way too interested in his love life. What he is at fault for, is avoiding you. Brave enough to apologize, pussy enough to avoid the girl he likes. You keep talking.

“I wish you would have spoken to me about this, it made me feel awkward,” you tell him.

He looks up from your joined hands then, looking at you face on. Shame is painting his features, but he’s trying to be courageous, you can tell.

There is no “I know I should have,” or “I’m sorry you felt that way.” Just his voice saying, “I’m sorry.”

No if’s, and’s, or but’s. He’s sorry without excuse or pride. 

The night air is still brisk on your skin, but Joel is warm everywhere. If you laid a hand onto his cheek you would feel hot flesh burning you back. His eyes flit from your own for a moment, decisive. 

“I’d really, really, like to have dinner with you sometime. I know tonight was a disaster, so I won’t be offended if y’say no, but… I wanna make this up to you.”

This feels so much realer than last time, like he’s gripping your heart in his hand and squeezing as it beats. Joel isn’t just saying this in passing after he’s come in your hand, he’s not awkward and politely asking to return a favor. Joel wants this, wants you, wants to have dinner with you. It probably should have occurred to you when he invited you to his daughter’s birthday dinner, but it’s only hitting you right now. No more pity invites, he wants this. 

Joel Miller wants this, he wants you, and he’s standing there with your hands in his, with his stupid soft eyes and with his heart on the line. He’s beautiful right now, standing with you as sorry as he can be. You’ll let him have this, he’s asking for it himself. Joel’s being so much braver this time around.

“I think we could do that,” you reply quietly.

His shoulders relax, brow unfurrowing. You can see the relief flood over him instantly, and he looks beautiful then too. 

It’s easy from there. Joel’s voice is so soft when he’s grateful, quiet as he thanks and arranges a date-night with you. The two of you decide that a night in would be fine, since Joel ends up working late pretty often. You’re fine with this, and would honestly rather have him to yourself anyways. No more prying eyes when you’re with him, no more over-bearing perceptions that make your brain fizzle out with anxiety. Just you and Joel. 

Admittedly, this silly crush on Joel began at a pretty surface level. Not shallow, but all you knew about him was that he was a hot dad and a nice guy. Now, though? Now he’s proven himself, shown you that there’s something in him that you can reach for. Everything’s bigger in Texas, but so far it’s only made you feel small. Being around Joel hushes you, like a kiss to a scrape. You want to know him deeper. 

He squeezes your hands, then drops them so you can pick up your leftovers. You feel a little shy turning your back to him as you make it up to your door, but then he speaks.

“You looked real pretty tonight, angel, more’n usual.”

You hope he can’t hear the squeak you make when the door shuts behind you.

—

It’s a few days later, and Joel is supposed to be coming soon. He warned that he’s been working late recently, that he probably won’t be off work until eight that evening. You don’t care, you made him dinner. 

It’s sitting in the kitchen, ready to be rewarmed when he gets to your house. It’s 8:30 now, he should be here soon. You’re tucked away on the couch, settled after recooling the house with your air conditioner. To be honest it should be illegal to cook during summers like this. You sweated so much you thought about taking another shower, but it wouldn’t have helped.

Besides, Joel’s showing up to your house in probably 10 minutes, sweaty and gross from work. It won’t be like you’re any grosser in comparison.

As predicted, he does show up ten minutes later. His hair is a mess and he smells like hard work, but it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters when he’s in your doorway, toeing off his boots, and asking how your day was. Joel’s eyes keep shyly meeting yours as you lead him to your living room and turn to face him. He’s nervous, clearly, but it’s sweet. You’re both out of your element again, this time in your house instead.

Joel’s eyes flit around the room when he’s avoiding your eyes, taking in your home similar to how you did his when you were there not so long ago. You wonder what he’s thinking, hoping he doesn’t find you to be boring. He keeps clenching and unclenching his fists and laughing nervously, and you keep watching how his adam's apple bobs in his throat, and how he vibrates with his laughter. He looks puppylike in the soft light of your home, brown eyes glistening.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him, tilting your head upwards. He looks so huge in your little space.

Joel nods sheepishly, and so you lead him into the kitchen.

—

They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and maybe Joel is the reason they say that. He groaned his way through dinner, with his eyes rolled back and compliments flying off his tongue when he wasn’t chewing. He listened to every word you said intently, taking his time with the food you had made. It had taken almost 40 minutes for him to finish that plate of food, and you saw just earlier that week how fast he could pound back a meal.

He’s savoring you with this silent praise you’ve never experienced.

And now he’s sat beside you on the couch, arm around your shoulders, and you’re snuggled back into him. The remote seems like a prop as you use it, aimlessly scrolling through a streaming service for a movie. Your thumbs are just rubbing over the rubber buttons now, your eyes focused on how his chest rises and falls. 

“I really don’t mind what you wanna watch, baby,” He says.

His voice seems so much nicer up close like this, when his face is just above yours and you’re beside him. 

“Or we don’t have to watch anything at all, we can just talk.”

How are you supposed to control yourself around him? How can he just walk into your home and fit right into your space, and look that good and be so warm? It feels like your bones are fighting against your skin to move, like the blood in your veins is yearning to jump rope. Joel is turning you on in a way you didn’t think possible, in a way where he’s never touched you, but you need him all at once. He’s softening the both of you.

It’s the middle of the hottest July of your entire life, but you’ve never felt warmer than right now.

“I’m sorry, was that weird? I jus’ like to hear you talk an–” Fuck he’s so nervous. Why is he so nervous? You want him loose and pliant again, like he was on the couch. 

“You should kiss me,” you blurt out. 

It’s funny how this is not the most insane thing you’ve suggested. The first crazy thing you suggested was “helping” him out with his boner when you went to his house on father’s day. 

Still, Joel is surprised. 

“You think so? I jus’ ate, I probably taste like food,” he says it like it’s an excuse.

You shift your body so you can face him better, chin tilted up so you can see his face. He’s not blushing, but he does seem surprised. This is much different than the embarrassed girl he walked home not even a week ago.

“Joel, I’m sure. I just– I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you bumble out.

He’s shaking his head, eyebrows pinched in that stupid way that makes his eyes look like a baby animals. 

“No, no, baby, it’s alright I’m just gross from work and I…” He drops eye contact with you. 

“I don’t want you to think that all I want from you is physical. You’re beautiful in a lot more ways than that.”

Fuck this guy, seriously. He’s so nervous, and clearly still thinks he’s fumbling this. Your bones are still vibrating, you’re so close to jumping out of your skin and into his. 

“Joel you’re incredible too, but I just really need you to kiss me,” you breathe. 

He seems to get it then. You clearly have deeper feelings, but after so long apart, and that disaster with his family, you’re pent up. Joel knows he’s kept you waiting long enough.

His first kiss is hesitant, just a small one that ends in a mumbled apology.

“S’been awhile,” he excuses before going back in.

And from there, it escalates. He’s controlled in his kisses, and seems to be avoiding tongue kissing you. Joel’s hesitancy from eating earlier is there, and you appreciate the courtesy. He makes it up though, when you push him further back on the couch and slide into his lap, arms looped around his neck.

Kisses are dotted from your lips, down your chin, and to the soft skin of your neck, where his mouth nips and kisses gently. Your hands are in his hair as you roll your head back, wanting to allow him however much space he needs to kiss you. There’s no hesitancy for either of you to be quiet, with him groaning as he smothers your neck in kisses, and you whining as he finds your sensitive points. 

It only takes a few ruts of your hips against his for him to be asking you if you want to go upstairs. He’s out of breath beneath you, cheeks flushed, and you can feel how hard he’s gotten.

“Y-yeah, my room,” you agree weakly, sliding off his lap.

Joel can barely keep his hands off you as you scamper up the stairs, grasping at your thighs and laughing softly when you squeak. 

It feels so juvenile, the way he grabs for you as soon as you enter your room. His lips are back on yours even as you try to tug up his shirt and he shakes his head slightly. 

“You first, I have a lot to make up for,” he mumbles, nodding his head towards the bed.

He undresses you once you’ve laid down, with eyes that drag over you in awe and pure attraction. Joel doesn’t mind your plain cotton undies, or the hairs that poke out the front. It’s sweet and homelike, it’s normal. 

He kisses where your hip bone is, murmuring into the fabric that covers it. 

“I really want to eat you out, beautiful. Is that okay with you?”

For the first time in this entire evening, his voice seems to sober you rather than intoxicate you more. Your lungs finally catch up with the rest of you, and you can breathe enough to get some actual oxygen into your brain, so you can think.

Obviously the answer should be yes, but you don’t feel totally comfortable with that yet. You’re not someone who prefers to be shaven, it’s inconvenient, but your bush is a little much even for you right now. On top of that, you’ve been sweating like crazy all day, so you don’t even wanna know what it’s like down there. And if you don’t wanna know what it’s like, then you don’t want Joel to know what it’s like, even if he really wants to.

So you shake your head.

Perfect boy he is, Joel nods and says “that’s alright, baby, thank you for bein’ honest,” as he slides back up your body after placing one more kiss on your hip bone. 

You are okay with him lifting your shirt off, and then unclipping your bra. He palms at your breasts lovingly, kissing them all over and lapping at your nipples. All of his touches are so gentle, but stupidly impactful. He seems to know that you don’t want this to be rough, that you enjoy his sweetness. He’s understanding you without even trying, and it feels like you’re being loved for the first time.

Joel is being careful in a way that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being overdramatic, or fragile. He’s watching your movements so he can do this right, but at the same time you’re getting impatient.

“Joel,” you pant as he sucks your nipple back into his mouth, “Joel, take your clothes off, please?”

He’s stupidly excited as he scrambles off your bed, tugging his jeans down and almost getting caught in his shirt when he pulls it off wrong. Joel touches his boxers and then looks at you with questioning eyes. This is where he hesitates.

“We can turn the lights off,” you offer gently. 

You remember his hesitancy on the couch, how he didn’t want you to look at him, to see him. It doesn’t matter if it’s dark in your room when this happens, so long as it’s him in the bed with you.

Joel turns and shuts the lights off, plunging the room into darkness for a moment before your eyes adjust. In another moment, you feel him on top of you again, his warm skin touching yours. It’s very lucky you cracked your window open earlier, so now your bedroom has become a manageable temperature. 

He’s comfortable on top of you, with his plush tummy pressing against the softness of your own. Your legs tangle as you struggle to strip your undies off, and you give up when they get caught around your ankle. His nose is pressed to your cheek as he just hovers above you for a second. 

“I know I said this earlier, but it really has been a long time,” he admits quietly. 

It shouldn’t warm your heart the way it does, but the idea of him not sharing himself with anyone for so long until you… it’s special. 

“That’s okay. Are you okay?” You ask.

He nods, from what you can feel, and then pulls back onto his knees. Joel isn’t totally visible in the light of your room, but he’s still gorgeous from what you can tell. The pouch of his tummy is so cute, so real, and you hope that you can bite it one day.

“I’m just going to prep you a little, is that okay darlin?” Joel says carefully, trailing a hand down your thigh.

Maybe from the outside this looks like two awkward people having sex, or maybe even like you don’t want each other at all. It sounds like there’s so much hesitancy in the room, but it’s not like that. The two of you are just reassuring one another, Joel to you because he was gone for so long, and you to him because it’s been so long for him. 

So it isn’t awkward, when he plunges his finger into you. He starts with one, gentle as ever, and works up to three very slowly. Joel leans down to your cheek and murmurs the nicest things to you, telling you how nice you feel, thanking you for being so kind to him.

“So patient with me, baby. Don’t know why you are, but it’s so kind,” he says quietly as he curls his fingers in you. They feel so much bigger than your own, but they fit fine. Fuller than you’re used to, but fulfilled in a new way. The feeling chokes your breath and all you can do is whimper softly at him, eyes wide.

“M’gonna be makin’ up my mistakes for a long time to you, an’ not just like this,” he promises, slowing his movements but making them more deliberate, a little harder. Nothing is burning like it usually does, there’s no sting of pain, it’s just a melting pot of pleasure between your legs as he gives himself to you and you to him. 

“Is that okay with you? Is it okay if I wanna make this up to you for a long time?” Joel asks.

You know what he’s asking. You know you want it too, you know you haven’t felt this wanted since you moved to Texas, probably even before. Nothing has felt like this in your life, and he’s requesting you to have it. 

“Yes, yes, Joel, that’s okay with me,” you say.

He leans down and kisses you once, then lets you scoot up and over on the bed so you can fumble in your drawer for the lube. Your hand passes over a silicone toy in your bedside table and you smile at the fact that it will soon be long abandoned as you pass the lube to him.

“Might be cold,” Joel warns before pouring some onto his fingers and applying it to you.

Then, he applies some to himself and settles comfortably between your legs. He drags the head of his cock over your hole and up to your clit, like a teasing warning. He had felt big in your palm before, but he feels even bigger now. He was right to prep you.

Finally, he notches himself and slowly pushes in, letting your locked ankles on his lower back guide the speed at which he slides in. Joel is breathing really heavily, and when he finally feels his pelvis meet yours, he collapses down onto his elbows.

“Fuck,” he cusses.

It feels better than you thought it would. He’s big, but not so much that you want him to pull back a little. You physically feel as comfortable and fulfilled as he makes you feel emotionally.

“So good, oh my god–” you sigh softly, hands reaching up and catching his curls in your fingers. You drag him down, your beautiful boy, and kiss him gently. 

But he isn’t moving. You can feel his thighs shaking and how he’s still breathing heavily.

“Hey,” you start softly after pulling back from the kiss, but he shakes his head.

“If I move I think–  I think I’m gonna come,” he sputters out embarrassedly.

Oh. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry baby. You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s been so long and you feel so goddamn good, I don’t know, I can’t move.” 

His nose is near enough to yours that you can brush them together, nuzzling the side of his face.

“Joel it’s okay, I’m not going to be upset,” you tell him. It’s oddly sweet for him to have such an overwhelming reaction to you. 

“No, I know that I just… I really wanna make you come. I wanna feel it," he admits.

And so you wait. Your unending patience seems to extend to him again in this moment and you lay there kissing him until he can finally begin to move at an even pace. 

It’s so worth it.

Joel is so loving as he fucks you, with deep thrusts as he groans and bites at your neck tenderly. His hands come up and palm your breasts, rolling his thumbs over his nipples as he tells you how pretty you are, how grateful and sorry he is.

He apologizes a lot. For the party, for his distance, for how stupid he was to not see how beautiful you were from the day you moved in next door. He’s noisy and apologetic as he keeps a stable pace as he fucks you into your mattress. 

Your mind is entirely fucked for him. You’re whimpering and mewling beneath him, babbling “it’s okay,” and “i forgive you,” everytime he says he’s sorry. Why is he even sorry anymore? Can’t he tell how much you love this? 

The more he talks the closer you get, your body clenching around him as he buries himself deep repeatedly. The stable pace he set should ground you, should keep your head on your shoulders, but it’s actually making it worse. You don’t need it any faster or harder than he’s giving it to you, not with how noisy he is, and how attentive his hands are.

“Do you forgive me?” he rumbles into your ear, dropped on one elbow as his other hand is reached down and gently rubbing your clit. 

You nod desperately, accidentally knocking your head into his. It makes him laugh, asking “yeah?” as he continues to pin his hips into your own. 

“I forgive you, Joel, I swear,” you choke out weakly. 

“Then will you come for me, honey? Please?” he asks.

It’s maybe the dirtiest thing he’s said all night, or maybe it just feels like it in the heat of the moment, but it sends you over the edge right away. You spasm around him and claw at his broad back, gasping for air and squeaking out noises you haven’t made before. Tears prick at your eyes as he works you through it with his fingers and cock.

“Fuck, yeah, there you are baby, that’s a good girl. God– Can I come? Is that okay?” Joel asks once you start to come down. You’re still in your head enough to nod, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. 

It doesn’t take long at all, you’re surprised he was able to last as long as he did with everything considered. Joel takes less than a minute before he’s pulling out and letting out deep grunts and breaths as he comes on your tummy, looking down at you with adoring eyes. 

“Thank you, thank you baby, God.” He huffs out as he catches his breath. He’s kneeling between your legs with his chest puffing. 

He continues thanking you as he cleans you up with a washcloth. You had to guide him to it by yelling instructions as he walked on shaky legs to your linen closet, not wanting to spill his mess everywhere. 

Once you’re finally cleaned up, he nestles into bed with you. Your head lays on his still clammy shoulder as he tucks you beneath his arm and presses kisses to your hairline.

“M’so grateful for you, darlin’, I hope you know that,” he mumbles to you. 

You tell him that you know, that he just proved it to you, and he laughs. The noise is so warm in your room, like it was meant to be there.

“Okay, that’s fair, but if you need anything else,” he tells you.

A thought does pop into your mind, but it doesn’t seem totally appropriate. You’re enjoying this peaceful moment with Joel, in your quiet room. His hand is tapping its fingers on your stomach, squeezing the flesh once or twice.

You decide not to say anything, but your tummy does. She growls loud and proud, forcing an embarrassed blush onto your face.

“Um… I think I’m kinda hungry,” you admit.

—

That’s how you and Joel end the night, in the kitchen.

You’re sitting on your countertop while he leans against it about a foot away. The paper plate that Ellie loaded up with cake is sat between the two of you, and your forks steal big lumps out of it.

Joel has frosting in his moustache, but it looks so cute there that you don’t have the heart to tell him. Instead, you just lean over and kiss him. 

“N’ what was that for?” He asks through a mouthful of cake.

You just giggle and shrug, admiring him. 

“I just like you,” you tell him.

He looks like he might roll his eyes, but instead he steps closer to you and kisses you on the cheek. You can feel the residue of the frosting on your skin.

“Yeah, I think I like you too, baby.” 

i don't have a taglist, but i'll just tag people who commented on texas sweet :p @mochamadeleines @pascalssbabyy @taeslarityy @stefanibear003 @slutty-express @theweedisasterxoxo @knockk0ut @axshadows @lumpatto @aquanatalie @peekyourinterest @moel-jiller @ghostofzion @joeylovestofu @hellishjoel @pedropeach @pawnshopb1ues

[crookedteethed]

18+ slight smut (unprotected piv), sex tapes, mentions of anal, jealous!reader, weirdo behavior

⋆ ★ thinking about how dad!rafe constantly gets hit on by slutty moms and how you have to come in and set them straight : (

Rafe loved his baby girl, but he would bash his fist into the wall if he had to listen to Somewhere Over the Rainbow get played as he watched his little girl prance around in her ballet class one more time. 

Don't get him wrong, Rafe loved spending the daddy-daughter time with his little girl, and it was something (even more) persuasive about your daughter wearing an adorable pink tutu that made him agree to get ice cream after Every. Single. Class.

It was the other parents (and The Best of Oz) who made it so insufferable—not just the other parents—the moms. 

The dads were particularly cool. They typically sat there like Rafe, hunched over into a man's spread, aggressively typing on their phones. 

But the moms--no--the fucking moms always wanted to talk, but not just talk, flirt!

The moms were like cougars, always purposely sitting down next to Rafe, peering over his shoulder, debating whether they should talk to him. 

When they finally do muster enough courage to talk to him (the ones that do), they typically say some dumb shit, like: 

"My heart always goes out to single fathers; it does. I’m single, too. We should grab a drink sometime.”

It was only Cynthia Fucking Allen that asked Rafe dumb shit like this. 

It was dumb because she knew that Rafe wasn't a single father and knew well that you two were happily married. 

The other moms were never as Bold as Cynthia. They typically just tried to talk with Rafe to talk to someone as attractive as he was—which Rafe didn't mind.

Cynthia was a cougar because she didn't fear rejection. She'd never turn down an opportunity to make a pass at Rafe--whether it was inviting him over to dinner or trying to set up "supervised playdates” (which Rafe had always turned her down) or going as far as complimenting his derrière in his khakis.

And though Cynthia's constant badgering was becoming a nuisance to Rafe, Rafe never needed to cut into Cynthia because deep down, Rafe had felt bad for the woman.

Rafe had once heard from you, who heard from one of the other mothers that Mr. Allen, Cynthia's husband, had filed for a divorce. So maybe she was just trying to get her groove back or something, Rafe thought.

Shockingly, you were the one to snap and cut into Cynthia for her nuisance behavior, finally. 

It was a stupid and risky idea, and you don't know what had come over you, honestly. It was something the Queen Bee would do in a raunchy teen movie. 

You had sent Cynthia a video of Rafe full-on fucking you. 

And I mean, you went all out. A tripod was set up and everything. 

It was an 11-minute length video of Rafe fucking you in two positions. 

For five minutes straight, Rafe took you from behind--your plush ass dangling off the edge of the bed as Rafe pounded into your sopping loud cunt, standing up, with his thumb occasionally pressing into your asshole.

With each thrust from Rafe's hips was met with your ass, causing the skin-on-skin slapping to fill the room. 

And then for another five minutes, he fucked you in missionary--with your legs pressed to his sides, Rafe sucking and biting your neck and cursing in your ear about how this is "Your dick."

You had made sure to include a minute of Rafe jacking off and cumming on the folds of your pussy and onto your clit. Then, you told Rafe to hurry up and grab the phone and record him fucking his cum deep inside of you because you were the only one indeed that owned Rafe's cock, and seemingly Cynthia needed to be reminded of that.

When you sent the video to Cynthia, you set it on vanishing mode and made sure it was to be deleted as soon as she finished watching it, so if she ever mentioned it, it was her word against yours.

You never told Rafe about sending Cynthia your sex tape, and Cynthia never brought it up, but you knew she had gotten the message since she never bothered Rafe again afterwards.

[theostrophywife]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[chobunz]

── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷

๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?

pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”

“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.

you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.

what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.

“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.

“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.

“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.

“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.

so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.

“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”

“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.

“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.

were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.

“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.

the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.

“jay— !”

“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.

“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.

now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.

“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.

discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.

“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.

“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..

subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.

“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.

“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.

“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”

“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.

“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.

you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.

“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.

“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.

“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”

earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.

๑ ๑ ๑

you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.

“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.

“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.

“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.

“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”

“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.

“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..

“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.

“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.

maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.

oh well, not his problem.

[xjulixred45x]

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

[berryz-writes]

Blue

Azriel x reader

Summary: There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others

Note: FIRST FULL WEEK I HAVE THINGS PLANNED OUT FOR. this isn't entirely my favourite but fuck it we ball <33 enjoy lovelies

@azrielappreciationweek day 1

The kitchen is a warm, flour-dusted haven, filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla as Azriel leans over my shoulder, watching me whisk the batter with an amused glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, “you could just let me do that.” He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against him. “Your hands might get tired.”

I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “I think I can handle a little whisking.” I turn to face him, catching the soft, rare smile that lights his face, the one that only appears when it’s just us. I lean up, brushing a light kiss to his lips, and feel him pull me closer, his fingers resting at the small of my back.

“Hmm,” he hums, deep and quiet, his lips lingering just a moment longer. “You taste like sugar.”

“You’re distracting me,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Good,” he replies, his voice low. His gaze drops to the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’re missing something.”

“Exactly,” I sigh, surveying the icing jars and realizing I’ve run out of the last colour I need. I hesitate, glancing at him, knowing he’s had a long week of missions and should probably be resting. But he just tilts his head, a patient smile on his face, like he already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Could you pick up more icing for me?” I ask, brushing a bit of flour off his cheek, unable to hide my smile. “Please?”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.” There’s a gentle warmth in his eyes, a soft devotion that melts me from the inside out.

As he steps back, he squeezes my hand. “Save a few for me?”

“All of them,” I reply with a grin, watching as he heads to the door, wings stretching wide in the golden afternoon light. He gives me one last look before taking off, a dark silhouette against the sky.

Azriel's POV

Flying over the city, my mind lingers on her, the soft warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes light up when I walk into the room. She’s goddess incarnate, far too perfect for me.

The cold air rushes past as I fly, enjoying the time to stretch out my wings to their fullest.

But halfway through my journey, I feel Rhysand’s voice slip into my thoughts, quiet and laced with urgency.

Azriel, we have a guest in the dungeons. I need answers from him if you're available, it's urgent

I think about his words. Maybe if it had been a few months ago Rhys wouldn't have added the part of me being "available" knowing I was waiting at the chance to distract my mind. But ever since y/n walked into my life it was getting easier and easier to spend days doing nothing except enjoy her company. No torture sessions. No constant dagger sharpening. Just time spent with her.

Fine.

Was the simple reply I gave. It would only take a few minutes of my time.

The warmth I felt just minutes ago fades as I turn, heading down toward the underground jail, where shadows and silence reign. My shadows coil tighter around me, sharper, attuned to the work at hand as I descend into the dim halls of the dungeon.

The heavy door creaks open, and I step inside to find the prisoner chained to a chair, his gaze faltering as he meets mine. He tries to summon some defiance, but I can see the fear flicker beneath it, his breaths shallow as my shadows drift closer, surrounding him in darkness. This won’t take long.

I approach him slowly, letting each step echo off the stone walls. Leaning forward, I let my voice drop to a low, controlled murmur, knowing how much more effective a whisper can be. “Let's make this quick. Tell me everything you know"

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by everything. He knew what I was here for and I would get it one way or another.

He’s silent at first, eyes darting, and I can see him calculating his options. But there’s no fight in him, not against what he senses I’m capable of. My shadows close in, tightening like a noose around him, each word I speak dripping with cold intent.

After a slow drag of my dagger down the column of his neck the information begins to spill out, fast and frantic. I listen carefully, never blinking, absorbing each detail.

No need for lost blood; I extract every piece with surgical precision, each question laced with the promise of what could happen if he resists. Soon, he’s left shuddering, broken, and silent.

I silently thank the cauldron he didn't make this difficult otherwise I would have to clean up before getting to my wife and the thought of keeping her waiting was not something I enjoyed.

Before I leave, I pause, tilting my head as I look down at him with one last, almost casual question. “Pick a colour.”

His face twists in confusion, fear giving way to bewilderment. “Uh… blue,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I give him a curt nod, acknowledging his choice before I turn and leave him to the shadows that linger. As I step into the fresh air aboveground, I make my way to a small shop, selecting a container of bright blue icing, a flash of colour that feels strange against the cold efficiency of what I’ve just done.

When I arrive home, I find her at the counter, surrounded by stacks of sweet heaven. She lights up as she sees me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "Az! Thank you my love" she says, taking the container and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.

I'd be lying if i said I didn't melt.

But then she pauses, glancing at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What took so long?”

I shake my head, not wanting her to worry “You don’t need to worry” I murmur, my voice gentle. “Rhys just needed something done”

She watches me closely, as if weighing my words, a knowing look in her eyes. But she doesn’t press. Instead, she smiles softly, letting her fingers brush over mine as she returns to her cupcakes.

I linger there, watching her work, feeling the lightness return to my chest as I settle back into the life we share. She doesn’t push, and I’m grateful.

With her I feel like life is worth living.

note: should have azriel year tbh