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#I might literally be able to count it on two hands
rose-of-the-grave · 11 hours
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Her Eyes
Pairing: Lily x James
Hey everybody, I hope you enjoy this! It was based off of this request. As always I'm the author (please don't repost)
Masterlist. Read on Ao3
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Warnings: fluff, literally just James simping over Lily, the fluffiest fluff ever with a smidge of the rest of the Marauders in the background
Word Count: 1113
Description: On a peaceful May evening, Lily and James enjoy a picnic on the front lawn of the castle while the other three Marauders realize that things are changing.
(Read: now our quartet is down to three a la Lion King) iykyk
Taglist: @sylveryfire
It was a warm, sunny day at Hogwarts and most of the students were out on the front lawn, reveling in the warmth that had been gone for so long. Under one particular tree sat three boys. Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Now these three boys were seemingly not as content as they might otherwise have been, usually joking around. The reason for this could be found not too far away from them, sitting on a blanket having a picnic with his new girlfriend.
“You know, staring at them isn’t going to make James come back over here.” Remus said from where he lay on the ground.
Sirius grumbled, “I know.”
Laughter echoed through the spring air.
“I’m happy for them, ya know? But she stole him! The least she could do is let us borrow him every once and a while.” He complained.
Remus sat up slightly, shielding his eyes with his hand. “After all the years Prongs spent mooning over her he’s probably afraid that if he leaves her alone for one second she’ll revert back to not liking him.”
Peter looked over at the two of them from where he sat. “We’ll all get to hang out during the summer though, right?”
“Nah, she’s staying with us for the first part of the summer.” Sirius said, referring to the Potter household. For the past few summers all four boys had stayed together there and all of them saw it as a home away from home, though now, since Sirius had started actually living with them, he did truly see it as home.
“Finally. Now I’ll have someone to have intellectually stimulating conversations with.” Remus joked.
Sirius clutched his chest in shock, “Are you saying that we aren’t stimulating you?”
Remus gave him a look. “Don’t you dare laugh.” He warned.
Sirius grinned back, barely holding in laughter.
“I’m seri...” Remus stopped, realizing his blunder. “Shit.”
Sirius started cracking up, saying through laughs, “No, I’m Sirius.”
Remus and Peter exchanged a look.
“You walked right into that one, my friend.”
The werewolf sighed, “I know.”
Across the field, Lily and James were finishing up their food. Lily was still munching on the last remnants of her meal while James was already done so he took the time to admire the beautiful girl that sat next to him. She was absolutely stunning. He already knew that but it wasn’t until recently that he had been able to admire her beauty up close.
As if she could sense his gaze she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his.
“What are you doing?” She asked in bewilderment.
“Gazing at the most amazing girl I have ever met and wondering how I managed to get her to agree to go on a date with me.”
She laughed, pushing playfully at his shoulder. “Flatterer.”
“I mean it.” He insisted.
She ducked her head down in embarrassment, “Thank you.”
Lily shifted a bit to look out into the distance at the Black Lake, the sun shimmering on the surface.
Staring into her beautiful green eyes he couldn’t help but ask, “Lils?”
She looked over at him, “Yes, Jamie?”
“Were your eyes always this wonderful?” He asked, with a dazed expression on his face.
Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, “You are the first person to say that besides mum & dad.”
“Does your sister not like them?” He asked, puzzled at how anybody could stare into her gorgeous emerald eyes and not think they were absolutely stunning.
“No, she thinks they are ugly.” Lily admitted.
“She needs to get her eyes checked.”
Lily giggled.
“No, I’m being serious.” James said earnestly.
“That’s sweet of you.”
Lily smiled inwardly, ever since she had finally said yes to going on a date he had been acting over the moon. Flowers had appeared at her door every morning with a handwritten note that always had some compliment or, occasionally, a quote. She had been quite amused and very touched when she discovered that he had been asking Remus for recommendations and had even created a list of the ones that reminded him the most of her.
He was always being sweet to her, offering to carry things for her. While he had never been known to particularly care about getting to class on time he was frequently late because he always walked with her to class and somehow left his class early to arrive right when hers got out.
Her friends joked about how they were attached at the hip but she couldn’t be happier. Maybe it was too soon to know but she had a feeling that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. When she looked over at him she could see herself marrying him, starting a family, and growing old together.
She ruffled his dark hair, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He looked up at her with a smile. A smile that earned himself yet another kiss, this one was a bit longer.
From a ways away came a few hoots. Laughing, they both turned to look at where Remus, Sirius, and Peter sat. James casually flipped them off before slipping a hand into Lily’s hair to pull her face towards his, kissing her again. They eventually pulled apart, but Lily sidled up closer and laid her head down on his shoulder, both of them looking out into the horizon at the sun starting to fall behind the mountains. They would eventually have to pack up and return to the castle but for now they simply enjoyed the mostly peaceful May evening side by side, wishing that they could just stay there in that moment together forever.
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alexblakeisgay · 1 day
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At Your Service
Ship: Emily Prentiss/Reader
Summary: There's a nation-wide shortage of heat suppressants and you run out in the middle of a case in a small Alaskan town...
Word Count: 909
Author's Note: This fills the Alpha/Beta/Omega square on my @cmkinkbingo2024 card.
Emily knocked on your hotel room’s door. “Everything okay in there?” She sounded worried.
“Fine,” you said, your voice warbling just the slightest bit, betraying your attempt at confidence.
She tried the doorknob. “Let me in, Y/N... You’re scaring me.”
“I want to,” you said, just barely loud enough to be heard through the door. “But I can’t, Em. You’re just going to have to trust me. I can’t go to the precinct. Keep me in the loop and I’ll do what I can from here, but...”
“Y/N,” she said seriously, “You have thirty seconds to open the door or I’m getting Derek and...”
Almost immediately, you flicked the lock and opened the door, already mortified that you were having to have this conversation with Emily of all people. She was your best friend in the whole world, your boss, and the star of each and every masturbatory fantasy you’d had for the last six months... So, things were complicated, to say the least.
You yanked her into the room and slammed the door shut behind her and, when you turned back around, poised to explain the situation, you knew she already knew...
Due to a country-wide heat suppressant shortage, the tiny Alaskan town you were currently based out of hadn’t been able to refill your prescription. You didn’t exactly advertise that you were an Omega and you didn’t relish the feeling of walking into a precinct full of Alpha males in full-blown heat.
You didn’t have to say that, knew all the thoughts that were crossing Emily’s mind in that moment.
“Understood,” was all she said. And just as quickly, she was gone again.
____________
You didn’t know what Emily told the rest of the team, but no one else came to your room...until early evening when there was a knock on your door. You were reluctant to answer it, until you heard Emily call through the door, “It’s just me...” When you opened the door, she held up a bag of Chinese food. “I thought you might be hungry,” she said.
Since you were, in fact, starving, you decided to let her in.
You could tell that she was uncomfortable as she crossed the room to set the food on the table and, for a brief moment, you were unsure why... Then, visibly trembling, she paused, bracing herself on the table while she collected her composure.
You opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, but before you could get the words out, she practically growled. “You smell so fucking good...”
“Wh-what?” you stammered.
She whipped around to stare at you with an absolutely feral expression. She took a few steps towards you, then quickly seemed to regain self-control. Holding up her hands in self-defence, she said, “I need to leave.”
“What? No! Why?” you exclaimed in quick succession.
“Because if I stay, I won’t be able to control myself...”
You put two and two together then. For a brief moment, you weighed the pros and cons of the situation. Then, quietly, “Stay.”
She studied you, seemingly searching for something in your expression. Whether she found it or not, you couldn’t have said, but regardless, she lunged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. When it quickly became clear that you didn’t object, she lifted you up and tossed you onto the bed, then climbed on top of you.
You could tell that she was barely clinging to her restraint and, quite honestly, you didn’t want her to... “Emily...” you whined, but that seemed to be the extent of your speech capabilities at that moment. Instead, you wriggled out of your pyjama shorts and hoped that was clear enough.
She seemed to get the message, though, because she proceeded to literally tear your panties off, push your legs apart, and dove into your cunt. Agonizingly slow, she trailed her tongue through your slit, catching every last drop of wetness on her tongue. She hummed a pleased note. “Fuck, you taste even better than you smell...”
Hooking your leg over her shoulder, you dug your heel into her back, forcing her to stay where she was, lavishing your pussy with attention. “Emily,” you said on a gasp, “Em, please...”
She chuckled. “You like that, huh?” she taunted, “You’re absolutely soaked for me.”
You whimpered, nodded, squirming as she lavished you with attention.
“Hey!” she scolded, “You wanted this, so stay still and take it.” She gripped your hips, holding you down as she sucked your clit into her mouth.
Crying you, you arched your back off the bed, your body absolutely thrumming with need under her expert ministrations. “Jesus, Em! You’re so fucking good at that!”
Pausing to catch her breath, she met your gaze with an absolutely predatory expression, your juices dripping down her chin. “You taste so good, Angel, I could eat your sweet pussy all day long...”
You had a strong feeling she wasn’t exaggerating... “Please, please, please,” you begged for more. “I need to cum...”
“You can, Angel,” she purred, “Cum all over my face like a good little girl.” She lapped at your cunt with renewed determination, single-minded in her focus to coax an orgasm from you. And, when you finally came, she didn’t stop, working you until you sobbed, begging her to stop. “Stop?” she said with a laugh, crawling up your body to kiss you (and you could taste your cum on her tongue), “I’m just getting started with you.”
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lizthewriter · 5 months
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messy / regina george
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PAIRING  regina george x fem!reader
SUMMARY  you and regina have been secretly hooking up for months, but she breaks up with you when you ask for more. after she gets hit by a bus, you fear for her life and whatever relationship you have left.
TAGS  regina george x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, queer!, reneé rapp is so fine 😫😫, internalized homophobia, use of d-slur (lesbian slur)
QUOTE  "half of all my exes regret me, / but none of them will ever forget me, / loving me gets really messy," - messy by reneé rapp
WRITTEN  1.13.2024
WORD COUNT  1.3K
A/N everytime reneé showed up on screen, i literally started banging my fists against my seat because she SERVED CUNT!!!! SHE WAS SO FINE!!!! literally after the movie, my best friend said to me: "i think you're just gay. i think you're a woman kisser. you might just have a little fruit in your cup."
slammed up against the wall, you felt regina's teeth clash furiously against yours. it was all hot passion - how your lips ran feverishly against hers as though you'd never get to feel her touch again, the way her hands ran up and down the sides of your body as though she needed to memorize the shape of you. days the two of you had gone without a moment to yourselves. days you had spent fantasizing about her pressing you up against the wall. it wasn't that you didn't want a normal relationship. it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss and hold hands and go on cute dates, but . . . that wasn't regina's style. she was closeted. heavily. actually, you weren't sure that she even understood that making out with girls was perhaps the most gay thing she could do, but you were willing to take what you were given. it was regina george, after all.
she pulled away from you by biting gently down on your lip, letting go when she could no longer stretch it any longer. "god, you're so hot," she whispered with a smirk, unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt. she reclaimed the control she had over your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone. your hands somehow found their way to her beautiful blond locks, scraping her scalp with the sharp edge of your nails. fantasy was nothing like reality. you had forgotten how good it felt, but how terrible it was all at once. as her warm breath tickled your skin, doubts that had been haunting you the past few days filled your mind slowly. was this healthy? didn't you deserve a healthy queer relationship, one that would be open and free and full of love, real love?
you wanted it all. you wanted the life you saw other queer girls have all around the world. going on cute picnic dates with homeade muffins and favorite books, sitting in the lap of your partner and doing their makeup, snuggling on the couch while watching a movie. holding hands while strolling the town center. it was hard to keep these thoughts back any longer. they overflowed.
you felt regina freeze as you gently pushed her away from where she had latched onto your upper chest. "can we, um, talk?" you ask. she could hear the tone in your voice. you knew she could. the way her eyes met yours made your stomach twist with discomfort.
"talk?" she asked in an incredulous tone, pulling away.
"it's just that, well, hear me out first. i like you. i really like you, a lot! that's why i really want us to be more than . . . making out in the custodian's closet after school and sneaking into your room while your mom's asleep," you explained nervously, stumbling over your words. finally able to meet her eyes, all hope was shattered as you felt her icy stare fixed upon your flushed face.
"i thought we made a deal when we started this. nothing more than this." she barked out a bitter laugh and fluffed out her hair. "what, did you think i was some kind of dyke or something? this was supposed to be fun. nice job stamping out that fire." she opened the door to the closet and waltzed out like nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend the entire last three months building a bond. heart: broken.
-
fear couldn't describe the emotion you felt driving to the hospital. it was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, heart-tearingly excruciating. the rumors swirling around made your sick with worry. could she really be dead?
you weren't there when it happened. you had been driving home and then doing homework, hiding your phone away in a drawer somewhere to keep you distracted. it wasn't until hours later that you checked your notifications to realize she had been admitted to the er.
you rushed into the hospital, demanding to hear about her condition.
"are you immediate family?" the nurse at the desk asked. of course you lied. of course you said yes. she gave you the room number and told you that you could wait in the hall - the doctors were talking with her mother and you would need to wait until she woke up herself.
when you arrived at the door to her room, you were afraid to look inside. you weren't sure why. she was alive, yes. maybe you were afraid she was still upset with you. or worse, she had amnesia and forgot about you completely. dejected, you collapsed into the very comfortable plastic chair next to her room.
a few minutes later, the door opened and the doctors and mrs. george exited the room. you stood up suddenly, expectant in your expression.
"she's fine. she's going to heal 100%, she just needs to wear a corrective neck bracelet for several weeks," the doctors assured you. you could relax, just a little. they walked down the hall, chatting softly. mrs. george grinned at you - you had met before, of course, being introduced as one of regina'a friends.
"well, look who we have here! did you hear the news? they said my name on the evening," she told you excitedly, as though her daughter weren't stuck in the hospital from injuries resulting for being hit. by a bus. "head on in darling, those cute boys said she'd be awake soon." her eyes trailed down the hall to the two doctors that had revived regina. with a mini-wave and a "toodle-doo!" she was down the hall and full on flirting with men much younger than herself.
the doorknob to regina's room stared back at you with intimidation so strong you almost turned around and drove home. you reached out a closed your hand around the cool metal, slowly turning it until you were passing through the doorway and standing feet away from her bed. it didn't feel as scary as you thought, entering her room, staring over at her bed. she looked more at peace then you had ever seen her, she looked prettier than you had ever seen her. without her mean-girl face, she seemed a lot more genuine. a lot more like the regina that opened up to you that one chilly night in december.
you silently pulled a chair next to her bed and sat there, waiting for her to wake up. you didn't mind the wait, in a way. because she was sitting there next to you, and she was going to be okay.
when regina awoke, she seemed more confused than anything. her brows furrowed as she looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on you.
"hey," you said all of a sudden, sitting up straight. "you're okay, you're fine. you're . . . in the hospital."
"what are you doing here?" not snappy or bitter or angry. genuine.
"i heard you got hit by a bus," you said, biting your bottom lip anxiously. would she yell at you? tell you she never wanted to see you again? "i heard . . . i you died. i just had to see for myself, to make sure you were okay. i'm sorry, if you don't want me here, i'll -"
"don't leave!" she shouted, grabbing your hand. you stared down at the place where her skin met your hand. this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. her fingers intertwined with yours and you find her eyes to be pleading you. "please, just don't leave."
"regina -"
"just shut up and listen, okay?" she told you, sounding upset, but it didn't seem to be an emotion she was directing towards you. you sat back down and scooted your chair closer to her. "i want us to be something more too . . . okay? i like you, loser."
you narrowed your eyes at her. "is this regina george trying to be nice?" you asked dubiously.
"don't ruin the moment or i'm taking everything i said back."
"no," you said quickly, shaking your head with a smile. you placed your other hand on the one clasped in hers. "it's a good look on you. really."
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futureman · 1 year
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come clean
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you're already in the shower
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, language, getting together, slow buildup, jackson era, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, rough sex, shower sex, size kink
word count: 4.7k
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a/n: this one goes out to emotional support daydreams! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. hope y'all enjoy 💕
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Joel’s having a rough day. It’s late, and he’s bone-tired and covered in…well, he’s not really sure what he’s covered in. Mud and bits of dead grass, definitely, but there's splotches of red on his jeans, too. He couldn’t tell you whether it’s his blood or something else’s—the adrenaline still hasn’t completely worn off, so it’s entirely possible he’s not feeling the full extent of his injuries yet.
His day hadn’t started that badly, but it wasn’t a typical morning, either. Maria had stopped him and Tommy at the gate to ask if they'd mind checking out a situation at the dam instead of patrolling their usual route.
Apparently, some of the machinery was acting up and the only person she trusted to oversee the repairs was Tommy. She honestly hadn't given much thought to Joel's part in all of it—their relationship is still pretty tense, even after his return to Jackson, so he was just along for the ride.
Things went downhill fast after they arrived at their destination. No one's really sure how the infected got into the facility, but it was a lucky thing Joel was there after all. With the help of a few guards, they were able to dispatch everything in and around the building without any bites or serious injuries but, boy, did they make a serious mess. Of the facility and the machinery they were supposed to help fix, and of Joel.
So now here he is, exhausted and dirty, getting shit from his kid when all he wants to do is get clean and take a fucking nap.
“Ew, gross,” Ellie groans, clearly not giving two shits about how badly Joel’s day is going or how little she’s helping right now. She had the day off and is somehow still watching movies in the same spot he left her in this morning. “Stop touching things! You’re getting shit everywhere.”
He ignores her and shrugs off his coat, walking into the living room to toss it over the back of his recliner, but she throws him a dirty look that stops him in his tracks.
"Whatever, m'gettin’ in the shower," he grunts, dropping it on the doormat instead. He'll probably have to burn that coat anyway if the stains and…odor are anything to go by.
"Uhhhh, no, actually you're not," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing her expectantly when she doesn't elaborate.
"Why the fuck not?"
"Did your hearing get worse or something? Shower's already on,” she nods toward the stairs. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice the sound of running water filtering down from the second floor earlier, but now he’s annoyed that he can’t shower and that she might actually be right about his hearing.
"Well then, I'm waitin' here," he sasses back, taking a seat on the recliner with zero regard to the upholstery.
"Dude!" She’s starting to look as exasperated as he feels. And her reaction isn’t unwarranted. If he touches literally anything in this living room, they’ll probably have to burn it, too.
"Fine, fine, m'not touchin' anythin'," he stands back up, holding his hands up in surrender. "How long's she been in there?"
"Like, five minutes. Probably gonna be a while, knowing her,” she replies with an amused grin. Oh, so she thinks this is funny.
"The fuck do ya expect me to do then, stand here ‘til she's out?" He asks as if it’s not exactly what he’s been doing the entire time they’ve been having this conversation.
"As long as you don't sit on any of the furniture, I don't really give a shit what you do," she shrugs.
He rolls his eyes at her, running a hand down his face in frustration. He’s just about to give up and hose himself down in the yard when she finally offers a solution.
"You could just knock and see if she'll swap out with you. She basically just got in, anyway."
“Y’know what, I think I will,” he grumbles, heading upstairs to the bathroom and leaving Ellie to her shitty 90s sci-fi thriller. She shakes her head, laughing as she slips on her headphones.
“Don’t be too loud up there!”
But with his bad ears, he doesn’t hear her.
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God, you needed this shower so badly. It's been a rough day, to say the least, and it’s finally time to get the relaxation you deserve. You got saddled with an extra patrol shift because two of the usual guys had a last-minute change of assignment, and it turned a typical day into an unbelievably exhausting one.
But tonight you got lucky. There was no one around to use up all of the hot water besides Ellie, who’s been glued to the TV all day, and you miraculously got home before Joel. So tonight, you get to enjoy the expensive bottle of shampoo you found at some fancy store in some fancy mall last month, and let yourself forget for a while that there’s fucking fungus monsters out there eating people.
That is—until someone knocks on the door and ends your perfect evening before it begins. Now you’ve got soap in your eyes, and you’re slightly worried because Ellie either needs something from the bathroom or the house is on fire. There’s never an in-between with her.
“Ellie? Everything okay?” you call out, really hoping it’s not the latter.
The voice that responds is muffled and decidedly much deeper than Ellie’s, and you’re momentarily taken off guard before you realize it’s not a burglar. It’s Joel—of course, it’s Joel. He probably got off his shift late and wants to clean up, and now you feel bad for making him wait and using up all the hot water.
You can’t really hear what he’s saying over the shower, so you slide the curtain open to poke your head out. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
He tries to answer you again, or at least you think he does, but you still can’t make him out, so you tell him to come inside. The door only opens a crack, but it's so quick that there's no time to duck behind the curtain before Joel's face appears and you're both staring at each other blankly.
“…Hi,” you breathe out, praying it’s just your head and not the rest of your body peeking out. “So, um, what were you saying?”
He looks a little embarrassed and it’s adorable, but the thought only crosses your mind for a split second before you notice the rest of him. He’s—there’s really no nice way to say this, but he looks revolting.
There’s dirt everywhere. Matted in his hair, under his fingernails, all over his clothes. It looks like he’s been rolling around on the ground all day, and honestly, maybe he has. He’s also got…gross, is that a chunk of…? Nope. It looks like someone exploded in his face, and he needs a shower. Badly.
The only problem is you’re covered head-to-toe in soap, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only got about 15 minutes of hot water left.
He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry to barge in on ya,” he mumbles, looking pointedly away from you. “I came up here to see if you wouldn’t mind pausin’ your shower for a bit, but I, uh…can see that’s gonna be a little difficult.”
You look down at yourself and, yeah, he’s right. You’re dripping water and soap all over the floor. Getting out now would be a pain in the ass, but he also really needs to get in.
“No, no. It’s totally fine! It makes way more sense for me to sit around soapy than for you to, um, stand around like that,” you reason. It’s his turn to look down at himself, and he grimaces. “Just turn around for a sec and we can swap.”
He nods, still looking sheepish, but grateful.
You duck back into the shower to shut the water off and gather up your toiletries to make room for his. You’ve already shoved half of your stuff to one side before you realize it was probably just a waste of time because there was already plenty of space—and that's when it dawns on you.
This stall is pretty big—as far as showers go, anyway. There's no reason you can't both fit in here at the same time. It's also not like he's never seen you naked before. You joined up with Joel and Ellie long before running water was in the picture, so you've had your fair share of awkward bathing encounters. Really, it's just a matter of whether or not he'll go for it.
You pop your head back out, taking a second to admire those strong, broad shoulders of his before getting his attention. Damn, he's a real catch. Hot and respectful. But seriously, he's so disgusting right now and it would be a shame to allow that to continue.
"Hey, Joel," you start, and he glances back carefully over his shoulder. You hesitate for a beat before continuing, “So, hear me out—what if we just…if we both showered…at the same time…”
He looks confused, and you realize how badly you botched that entire sentence. Okay, so talking around it didn't work. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.
"Just—just get in with me," you say softly. "We can shower together."
His brow furrows, eyes unreadable. He looks like he might be thinking it over, but his silence isn't exactly the most encouraging reaction in the world. Subconsciously, you hold your breath while you wait for an answer.
There’s no way he’s going to go for this, is there? It’s Joel. He can barely look at you in a tank top without blushing, let alone wet and naked. You’re not even sure why you bothered asking. It was clearly a dumb—
“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he nods, turning back to you fully, and you swear he’s looking at you differently. That's…not what you were expecting. Not that you're complaining in the slightest. He's not even trying to hide his eagerness, and you're starting to think maybe he was waiting for you to ask all along.
"Well, come on in, cowboy."
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Joel undresses slowly, eyeing what little of you he can see greedily, and it makes your cheeks burn. It’s like he can’t look away—from your eyes and lips, your collarbone. Even the tiny droplets of water that fall from your hair. It feels more intimate than any moment you’ve ever shared with Joel, and he hasn’t even touched you. Yet, hopefully.
You’re getting impatient. He's making a show of stripping down and it's taking everything you have not to get out of the shower and rip all of his clothes off yourself. His fingers are so thick, and more and more of his tanned, weather-worn skin is exposed to you as they work to unbutton his shirt.
You’re pretty sure you’re drooling at this point, imagining those fingers sinking deep inside you before you can stop yourself. Fuck, you're pent up. And should probably have a lot more shame, but now he's unzipping his jeans, and you feel like you're about to combust.
You let out a pained noise without meaning to and he chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up the pace. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he teases, dropping his pants to the floor. "Why don't you get the water goin' for me?"
Now you're the one having trouble looking away. Damn, who even is this guy? He’s nothing like the Joel you’ve known for years, and definitely not the Joel who stepped into this bathroom ten minutes ago. If you'd known it would go like this, you would’ve invited him to shower with you a long time ago.
He’s down to just his boxers now, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he’s already hard. Swallowing is suddenly extremely difficult, so you shoot him one last appreciative look before doing what he asked.
You turn the water back on and it’s still pleasurably warm as it rains down onto your tense shoulders. The steady pressure soothes some of the nerves while you wait for him to join you, but you’re so caught up in the moment that you don't notice the curtain opening.
"Scoot over," he murmurs behind you, his breath fanning out over the back of your neck. He’s close, so much closer than you expected him to be. You assumed you’d be dancing around each other for at least a little while longer, but it seems like Joel knows exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the shower.
He reaches around you to grab that expensive bottle of shampoo you’ve been looking forward to, his fingers grazing your bare skin, and you shiver despite the heat of the water.
“Or you could stay right here,” he says, even closer now, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We could help each other out—with washin’ up, I mean.”
You inhale shakily, your reply getting caught in your throat. “Y-yes—yeah, yes…we should definitely do that,” you breathe out.
He chuckles and the sound is surprisingly affectionate. It gives you hope that this won’t just be a one-time thing. That after all this time, he wants you as much as you want him.
You’re the first to initiate physical contact, reaching back to bury your fingers in his hair which, in retrospect, turns out to be a terrible idea. He’s still filthy, and your fingers get caught in tangles and dirt and…probably a lot of other nasty shit you don’t want to think about.
You snort out a laugh, turning around to face him. “I think you’re up first, handsome.”
The corners of his mouth tip up as he nods, and you can’t resist the urge to reach up and trace his bottom lip with your thumb. He kisses the pad of your finger, and you wish so badly that it was your lips.
For the second time tonight, you’re feeling incredibly impatient. You want to feel more of him, let him press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you the way you both want him to, but it’ll have to wait.
You pluck the bottle from his hands and squeeze a huge dollop into your palm, telling him to turn around with a small smile. His eyes drop to the quirk of your lips for a moment too long before he obliges, and you’re starting to realize he’s getting impatient, too.
You reach up to thread your fingers into his graying hair and, somehow, the strands still feel soft despite everything tangled up in them. It’s going to take a decent amount of scrubbing before it’s back to its normal, fluffy state of disarray, but you’ll make it feel good for him. A little taste of what's to come.
He tips his head back as you massage in the shampoo, letting out the softest groan when your fingernails scratch along his scalp, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the growing ache in your core. You’re not going to make it through this shower if he keeps making noises like that. But, of course, he does, and they're getting louder.
You can feel his body starting to respond to yours, too. It’s a little cruel how you’re purposely working him up, sliding a washcloth over his shoulders and across his back, letting your fingers skim teasingly over his skin as you stretch your arms around him to reach his front.
His stomach flexes under your palm, and he inhales sharply as your hardened nipples graze across his back. You continue your path down, running your fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his hips jerk forward, seeking the friction you so desperately want to provide. He's panting, and you're both having a difficult time holding yourselves back.
Brown and red swirl in the water around your feet and down the drain, and it's enough to tell you that he's finally clean. And that you can finally touch him the way you want to.
Pressing yourself firmly against his back, you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock and he feels huge in your hand, rock hard and pulsing with his racing heartbeat. You pump him a few times, giving him a firm squeeze at the base, and he keens, already leaking all over himself.
He braces a hand on your hip to steady himself as you trail open-mouthed kisses down his spine, digging his fingers in roughly when you slowly start to jerk him off in earnest.
"T-that's it, pretty girl—,” he pants heavily, eyes dropping down to watch you work him, and you twist your wrist up on the next stroke, thumbing over his head. "Keep goin', just like that."
You whimper damply against his skin at the pet name, feeling a pleasurable whoosh in your belly as your cunt drips pathetically down your thighs. The throbbing between your legs is almost unbearable, but you don't want to let him go, not when his hips are meeting your fist so fucking desperately. You wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping it lower and lower until your fingers rub against your slick folds, gathering some of the wetness to rub soothing circles into your clit.
“I got you, I got you,” you moan at the sudden relief. Your caresses start to match his thrusts, and soon he's trembling in your arms, whimpering like he'll cum any second if you let him. You rub your cheek tenderly against his back, murmuring soft, encouraging words into his heated skin.
"You're doing so, so well," you tell him, and he seizes up at the praise, chest heaving as you focus your attention closer to the tip. "You wanna cum or are you gonna wait for me? Want you to fill me up…can you do that for me?"
For a second, you think your words might've thrown him over the edge, his hips stuttering against your palm even as you slow your movements. But he's still clearly fighting the urge to cum, and that has to mean he wants to fuck you badly.
His hand shakes as it lifts to wrap around yours, guiding you down to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but you're not making it easy for him. You barely notice your other hand still working your pussy, too turned on to realize you've started pumping two fingers in and out of yourself.
Joel notices, though. Something that sounds almost animalistic tears its way out of his chest as he turns on you, snatching your hand out of your cunt and slamming it against the shower wall. Your fingers are shiny and glistening with your wetness and he leans forward to suck each of them into his mouth, groaning at your taste on his tongue.
The look on his face makes it seem like you're the best meal he's ever had, and you feel a strong, sudden urge to have his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. He pulls off your middle finger with an audible pop, and then you're crashing your lips into his, immediately licking into him.
God, why do you taste so good in his mouth? It's salty and heady, and really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but you can't bring yourself to care as his tongue tangles with yours. You feel two—shit, no, it’s three—of his fingers slip into you, and, holy fuck, they're so much bigger than yours. You're already so full and they feel even thicker at the base, nudging a spot that makes you see stars.
There's no way his cock is going to fit inside you…right? But the thought of him trying anyway almost makes you cum on the spot. Another wave of heat crashes through you and your walls convulse around him, pussy gushing down his fingers, and he abruptly breaks away from your lips, groaning lowly, desperately.
"Fuck, I-I need—shit, I need to fuck you, pretty girl," he twitches against you, leaking a glob of precum as he ruts into your belly. “M'gonna fill ya up real good, just like you wanted—," and you gasp, clamping down on his fingers one more time before he's pulling them out and hauling you into his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he shoves you higher up the wall.
His hands roam your skin hungrily before eventually settling under the soft swell of your ass, holding you up as he slicks up his cock between your folds. Every time the tip catches your clit, your hips buck clean off the wall and he presses into you harder to keep you in place. You bury your face in his neck, thighs squeezing into his sides.
"S'not gonna fit," you slur, a little drunk off how good he feels between your legs. The next time his hips buck forward, the blunt head of his cock catches your entrance. "J-Joel—ngh…Joel, s'too big, you have to make it fit, please."
And that's when his patience runs out.
He sheathes himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, growling roughly into your hair, and the stretch is mind-numbing. He stays deep, letting you adjust to the feeling of being split open, and his head drops to your shoulder. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, your pussy stretched around him almost obscenely.
"Would'ja look at that," he mumbles to himself, rocking in and out slowly as he turns his head to suck a bruise into your collarbone. You reach a hand down curiously, wanting to feel yourself around him, and your jaw drops when your fingers brush where his thickness is forcing your cunt to yield to him. "Knew you could take me…pussy feels s-so fuckin' good, like you were made for me."
You whine pathetically as the ache starts to subside and the need for him to fuck you becomes overwhelming. Pleasure blooms where he's already grazing that heavenly spot again, and you tug his head back by his hair, bringing his attention back up to you.
Everything pauses, just for a moment. You kiss his lips delicately, so much more delicate than he's about to be with your body but, right now, you need him to know that it's more than this for you. More than the sex and the physical intimacy. And the way he kisses you back reassures you beyond a doubt that it's more than this for him, too.
Then, your patience runs out.
"Joel, move."
And suddenly, he's spearing up into that spot deep inside you with reckless abandon, bouncing you on his cock, and you're not entirely sure, but you might actually be screaming.
Your head lolls back, thudding dully against the wall, and he ducks down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue circling the nub as he continues you work you up and down his shaft. The sound your pussy's making around him should be humiliating, but it only spurs him on, the wet squelching echoing loudly over the running water.
"Hear that? That's all you, baby. So fuckin' wet, look at that," and he's watching himself again in awe as he fucks in and out of you. You follow his gaze and, holy shit, he's not kidding. You're absolutely soaking him. "You look so good like this, so goddamn pretty stretched around my cock."
You still haven't completely acclimated to how thick he is, not sure you ever actually will, and the syrupy-sweet pain of him has you clawing at his back. You use the wall as leverage, arching just enough so you can actively meet his thrusts, and the new angle sends you reeling.
"Feels so…full, so full," you gasp, your back inching higher up the wall with the force of his thrusts. "K-keep going…there, Joel, there."
It's not just that one spot he's hitting anymore—fuck, it feels like he's everywhere. The ridge of his cock is rubbing your walls just right and every other thrust fucks deep enough to graze your cervix. You sob at the onslaught of overpowering pleasure, burying your hands in his hair to tether yourself as your brain begins to fizzle.
Just a little more, you only need a little bit more. You can feel the lower half of your body locking down and, as if he can sense exactly what you need, he grinds his cock in as deep as it'll go.
"That's it, baby. C'mon, give it to me," he grits against your throat. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, you're almost there."
The coarse hairs at the base of his cock scrape roughly and a little painfully against your swollen clit as you rock against him, but the slide is still so slick and raw that your thighs begin to quake around his waist, and it's—fuck, it's so…so…
"M'gonna fucking cum—gonna…oh fuck, fuck, Joel," your lips part around what you pray is a silent scream and your body goes rigid, cunt spasming violently around him.
He chokes out a moan as you clamp down impossibly tighter on his cock. "Fuckin' hell, there we go," he rasps out shakily as he fucks you into the wall blindingly hard, letting you ride him through your orgasm.
"So, s-so good. Feels so fuckin' good," he's starting to mumble to himself deliriously, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise. You whimper helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier and more desperate, "Gonna fill you up 'til it's leakin' out…c-can I, pretty girl? Please…bet you'd look so fuckin' good with my cum spillin' out of you—"
Before you can even answer, you feel him throb and then his entire body stills, his cock visibly pulsing as he empties into you. He moans his way through it, his head dropping to your shoulder again to watch himself pump you full of cum just like he said he would.
If you thought you felt full before, it's nothing compared to how you feel right now. He's still so deep, twitching pathetically inside you as he lifts his head to nose at the underside of your jaw. He presses a soft kiss there and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter.
"Christ, Joel, where did that come from?" you rasp out. He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling his hips into your sensitive clit. Your pussy flutters around him and his breath hitches, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. He still hasn't pulled out and you have a feeling he doesn't want to.
"Been waitin' a long time for that," he murmurs, meeting your eyes. You smile softly, and your lips command his attention. "Waited a long time for you."
So full of surprises tonight. You’ve traveled with him for years, settled down with your kid, but you never expected this. For him to finally feel the same way you do, to fuck you like that. You’re suddenly extremely thankful he came home in dire need of a shower.
You run your hands up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and burying the other in his hair. The dirt, the grime—it's all gone now, replaced by your release and the sweat of your exertion. He smells so good, just like your fancy shampoo. Just like home.
You lean in to kiss him deeply and he melts into you, his lips soft and warm against yours. When you part, you're met with that look again. The one he gave you after you asked him to shower with you, and that he hasn't stopped giving you since. Like he's observing you, contemplating you.
You recognize it now—it's hope.
"I've been waiting a long time for you too, Joel."
He kisses you again, holding you close as the water goes ice cold.
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thanks so much for reading! 🥰
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fake-bleach · 1 year
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feels so right | dbf!joel miller x reader
summary: Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.
word count: 9.9k (yeah i went overboard oops..)
warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), this might be the filthiest smut i've ever written, porn w/ plot, reader has a horrible/mean bf, prolly unrealistic car sex but idc, joel can carry reader, thigh riding, praise/degrading, kinda mean joel, oral (m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, use of pet names (honey, sweetheart, baby, girl, etc), piv, unprotected rough sex, bit of a size kink, joel's hugeee, spanking, bit of choking, creampie/coming inside, literally all that good filthy shit lolll, lil cheesy ass ending
btw this can be for both game/hbo!joel cus i had them both in mind while writing <3
ao3 link | masterlist
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Music fills your ears as you take a sip of your drink, sitting on an uncomfortable stool by the bar you were at.
Your boyfriend dragged you here with him, but not out of the kindness of his heart, no. You had made plans with him to spend some time together; to stay in and watch a movie, in hopes that it'd somehow heal your declining relationship, and he thankfully agreed.
That was weeks ago now, and here you were; stuck at a bar with the rest of his friends all because he forgot about his plans with you and insisted that he'd spend the night with the ones he sees more often than you.
It was either you or them, and in his eyes, it was always them.
"Fuck, babe! If you wanna be with me so fucking bad, just come with me— since you won't get off my fucking ass if you don't. Jesus Christ, I mean, you'd think I'd be able to spend one fucking night with my friends.. So fucking clingy."
His words rung in your ears as your eyes got lost in the remaining alcohol in the glass in your hand, slowly swirling it around with dread filling your face and entire being. You knew your boyfriend wasn't the best guy in the world, but you loved him at one point, and your heart clung onto the hope that he would start to actually love you back.
You should've known that your hopes would never be enough.
Snapping yourself out of it, you lift your head up to turn and look at him, his fourth glass of whiskey nearly empty, not giving a single fuck about you. No, his focus was always on his friends.. always on the shit that he prioritized over you.
You could only take so much.
Lifting yourself up from the stool, your feet reach the ground as you make your way over to him, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. Nothing. Again, you tap him even harder, and he finally notices you for the first time in the 30 minutes you've been there.
"What the fuck? What do you want now?" He asks you, scoffing as he whips his head to turn to you.
You gasp at him, mouth open as you stare at him in disbelief. "What the fuck do I want? I want you to fucking pay attention to me, you asshole! Have you even thought about me the entire time we've been here at all?!" You exclaim harshly, your heart racing as your anger rises.
He just shakes his head at you, the annoyance in his face incredibly evident as his friends laugh faintly at the scene in front of them. He doesn't even attempt to apologize to you, the tone in his voice cruel as he scolds you, "I never even fucking wanted you here in the first place, and you didn't get the damn hint. Not my fucking fault, babe."
He turns his body to look back at his friends, completely avoiding you and the situation, and clearly not giving a shit to fix it. Your anger gets the best of you, reaching for his shoulder to harshly pull it back so he could just look at you, but he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tightly as he drags your body to him.
Your face is just inches away from his now, gasps coming out of your mouth as his grip tightens. "Don't you ever fucking touch me like that again.. Get the fuck out of here, bitch." He berates you, his breath oozing of booze as he shoves your wrist to push you away from him.
Your eyes fill with tears as you back away from him, your hand reaching to your wrist to soothe it, rubbing it softly. You glance around the room, embarrassed at what had just occurred. Eyes from all around the bar are on the two of you now, but there's a pair that immediately catch your eye.
Joel.
Your dad's best friend, and the man who practically watched you grow up right in front of his eyes.
His gaze is hard on you, face filled with growing anger as he watches what your dickhead of a boyfriend just did to you. Your face grows cold as you stare at him, eyes flickering from his face to the floor as you grip your bag, not wanting to have him confront you. You were embarrassed enough.
You glance back at your boyfriend one last time, a slight frown fixed on your lips as you rush out the door, gasping for air while your teary eyes pace around your surroundings. Frantically pulling your phone out of your bag, you open the Uber app, wanting to get a ride home and out of here as soon as you could.
"Honey? You alright?"
Your body jumps slightly as you turn your head to stare at the source of the voice, eyes fixed to recognize Joel, his face filled with concern and his gaze now soft on you. You swallow as you breathe out, wiping the tears that were just about to fall from your eyes.
Gaining the courage to speak, you choke out faintly, not wanting to reveal your emotions to him. "J-Joel, I— Yeah, I'm okay.. it's okay. Sorry you had to see that, I.. didn't know you came here.."
You turn your head to stare back down at your phone, weak fingers trying their best to tap on the buttons to get you a driver here as soon as possible.
Joel's hand just reaches over the ones gripping onto your phone, slowly pushing them down and away from your focus to make you look up at him. His eyes are gentle and warm, boring into yours.
"Don't do that, sweetheart.. I've known y'long enough to know that it isn't," His soft words soothe you, looking down at your somber face, "C'mon.. Why don't y'let me take you home? Let's get you outta here.." He offers, moving his hand behind the small of your back to guide you wherever his truck was parked.
You sniffle and nod as you give into his generosity, knowing that you just wanted and needed to be cared for right now, whether or not it was just by Joel's benevolence.
His stare is fixed on you as the two of you make your way to his truck, feeling a sense of responsibility and urge to protect you. You were the loveliest girl he's ever known in his entire life, and it appalled him at how you could be with an asshole like that.
Walking up to the passenger side with you right behind him, he opens the door up for you, gesturing you to get in. "C'mon, honey.. There y'go.." He whispers out, gently shutting it behind you once you're securely inside.
Joel gets in the driver's seat now, putting his seatbelt on after you as he turns the engine on, putting the car in reverse to get out of there, knowing that you probably wanted to leave the area as fast as possible.
Silence fills the space between you as the only sound that can be heard are the tires on the road, making you gulp softly. You then glance at him, clearing your throat and licking your drying lips, "I.. I promise, he's not always like that, Joel.. He's a nice man.. I—"
Your voice fails you as you finish, the uncertainty in your tone not even convincing yourself. You're lying straight through your teeth, and Joel knows it too.
He lets out a heavy scoff, shaking his head as his eyes focus on the road in front of him. Glancing at you, he chuckles, "Right.. A 'nice man', huh?" He starts, making you turn away from him to look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers, "A 'nice man' wouldn't do that to you, honey.. Seems to me you've never felt how a real man should treat ya."
Your head turns to look at him quickly, scoffing back at him as you look at him, shocked. You don't even know why you're bothering to defend your shitty boyfriend, but for some reason, you wanted to prove to Joel that you were mature enough to make the right decisions.. to be with the right man.
"You don't even know him, Joel.. I.. I was being clingy, alright? He wanted to hang out with his friends instead of me tonight and I insisted I went too! You.. you'd act like that too if you were ever with me.." You tell him, your voice growing small towards the last part of your little speech, self-deprecation filling your mind along with your boyfriend's words.
It doesn't seem to make Joel any happier, making him suddenly pull over to the side of the road, putting the car in park. He huffs, removing his seatbelt as you follow his movements. Pausing to take a moment to try and compose himself, he finally looks at you, mouth open in disbelief. "You think I'd act like that if I were in his position? Think I'd fuckin' push you away like that? No, honey, god, no— you've got it all wrong."
You swallow as you stare at him, eyes confused and trying to understand what he was implying. He turns away from you for a moment, licking his lips as he breathes in sharply. "No fuckin' man right in the head would ever push you away like that, sweetheart.. No, he's a fuckin' boy who won't even cherish such a.. pretty girl like you."
Joel shakes his head, taking that pause between his words to look at you up and down, exhaling hard as he puts his fist to his face, his arm resting on the side of his window. He just stares back out through the windshield, your body stuck in place, breath hitching as you process it all.
"The hell would your dad think.. f'he ever saw that, huh? Boy's damn lucky I didn't do shit to him.. Lucky I didn't fuck m'up." He exclaims, scoffing softly as he looks at you for a moment.
Your chest rises as you breathe in softly, mind racing to figure out what to say. Your stomach is filled with faint butterflies from Joel's words, yet you knew that he'd never possibly think of you that way. He was just trying to comfort you.. right?
Your eyes are set on your lap, pausing before stuttering out, "Look, Joel.. I get it, you've known me my whole life, but I know what I'm doing. I'm not some dumb little girl anymore.." You finish, lifting your head to look at him, hoping that he'd finally believe you.
Joel's always treated you the same way he has when you were a kid, and it always frustrated the hell out of you. It's no doubt that Joel was an attractive man; you realized that when you were in high school, especially when your friends would come to your house to gawk at him at parties and family gatherings. You weren't blind, but you knew your attraction for him would get you nowhere.. not when he saw you the same way all these years.
At least, to you.
His head finally turns to you, eyes set on yours now, "You're a big girl now, huh.. s'that right? Y'gonna tell me that when you're with an asshole like that?" He chuckles out, cocking his head as he shakes it, "Thought you were better than that, baby.. That you'd actually give yourself to someone who deserves you.."
"Guess you're still that dumb little girl."
His words sting, making your eyes harden with your lips pressed tightly together. You scoff at him, tone harsh and direct, "The fuck do you want from me, Joel? What, y'want me to give myself to a real man like you?" spewing out the words without even giving it a second thought.
He immediately spits out what he's been thinking the entire time, nodding his head almost condescendingly as he inches his face closer to yours, "Yeah, that's what I fuckin' want. Maybe it'll knock some damn sense into that dumb head of yours, huh?”
You grit your teeth, heart thumping out of your chest as you rasp out, "You wouldn't even have the fucking guts, old man," but you knew damn well that you craved it. Craved him and the endless possibilities of what he could do to you. Breathing heavily, you can't deny the slick growing against your folds and through your panties.
Joel just grins at you, his gaze never leaving yours, "S'that right, honey? M' just some.. old man to you?" He snickers, his tongue poking out of his cheek for a moment, "Y'think I never noticed you all these years? Never heard you and your lil' friends talkin' about me?"
You gulp as your lick your drying lips, face softening while your heart races. Shaking your head to deny his accusations, your body freezes at the realization that he knows.
"Yeah.. you're not so slick, baby. Could see you watchin' me all these damn years.. Tellin' everyone how much you want me.. Y'can deny it all you want, sweetheart, but I see right through you. Right through this act."
He smirks as your eyes dart to the floor to avoid his stare, head tilting down as you fidget with your hands. Your body grows cold as you shake your head softly, denying the fact of the matter.
Joel's hand reaches up towards your face, his thumb and index finger lifting your head to look up at him, gripping onto your chin. "Ain't that right?" He chuckles out, making you turn your head to look away from him again nervously, but he doesn't let that slide.
He tuts his tongue, shaking his head as his grasp on your chin tightens just enough to have a firm grip on you, forcing you to look right at him. "No, no, don't do that, honey.. Look at me." He demands, your eyes finally staring into his own. You clear your throat, body shaking slightly as your adamant arousal for him increases.
You begin to stutter out, gulping, "J-Joel..", but he just cuts you off, implicit and direct with his intentions.
"Y’gonna let me fuck some sense into you, baby? That what you want? You’re about a second away from begging me for it, I fuckin’ see it. Can practically smell it off you, too." Joel spits out, his tone cocky and hitting directly to your core as he glances down at your thighs clenching together, “N’ look at you here..”
He chuckles out, removing his fingers from your chin to glide them down to your trembling thighs, his fingers almost pressing into the crevice that your thighs were pressed so tightly together to create. He wets his lips as his dark gaze glances back up to your face, whispering out desperately, "Tell me you want this, honey.. Tell me n' I'll make you forget all about your lil' boyfriend."
You breathe out through your mouth heavily, lips falling a bit open as your mind races. You've thought about this moment for so long now, and you could finally have it..
Fuck it.
Wetting your lips, you quickly put them on Joel's, desperation seething out of you as your eyes shut tightly. You moan into the kiss, Joel groaning into it too as he reaches his hands for your waist, gripping onto it tightly. He almost lifts you up, gesturing for you to get on top of his lap, needing to be close to you. You just follow his request, lifting yourself up from the passenger seat to fall into his lap and straddle his waist, immediately whimpering at the feeling of his bulging crotch pressing into your panties.
You had hoped that wearing a dress tonight would be a good choice, and you were right.
Breaking away from the kiss, the two of you gasp for air, breathing in heavily as you stare at Joel with delirious eyes, nearly high off the taste of him. He just smirks at you, reaching for your cheek to hold onto it, caressing it softly. "Bout' fuckin' time, baby.. Thought you'd never get the hint." He pants out, bringing your face close to press a dirty kiss on your lips, his tongue pushing against yours.
Your impatience gets the best of you, gripping his broad shoulders with your hands as you gain enough leverage to grind your core against his crotch, moaning loudly at the friction. You can already feel how huge he is, your cunt throbbing at the thought of it stretching you out.
His eager hands move down to grip your ass, moving you exactly how he wants, pressing you down onto him even harder. His lips break away from yours, groaning out, "Fuck, baby.. Fuckin' sexy, look at you.." He says, his gaze on your desperate face and glancing down at your hips and crotch grinding against him, "Shit.. That's it.. Pretty girl like you knows how to move."
You whimper at his words, growing wetter at the rough control he has on your body, and you love it. You can't help but let out little gasps, the desire you have for him increasing every time your bodies press together, making you crave his cock even more with each second that passes.
"F-Fuck.. need you, Joel, please.." You whine out, making his eyes flash up at yours as he chuckles, gripping onto your ass even tighter. He just shakes his head, saying, "No, baby.. Y'gonna take what you need from me right here. Wanna s'ya drench my thigh.."
"You do that f'me.. come all pretty & put on a lil' show for me? Maybe I'll give ya what y'want.." Joel mutters out to you, his lips just inches away from yours as he stares into your eyes, filled with lust and an intense ache for you. He wants to savor your body as long as he possibly can.
You nod your head quickly, biting your lower lip gently as you move your legs wrapped around him to sit in between one of his large thighs, moaning out once the rough fabric of his jeans hits your throbbing cunt.
You're soaked through your panties at this point, and you don't waste a second chasing your release. Your hips slowly start to move back and forth, grinding against his thigh as you whine. Licking your lips, you pant out, stuttering out his name repeatedly as your body does all the work for you. You're not even thinking at this point; your mind's completely gone blank and focused on one thing.
"That's it, honey.. Keep goin'.. Pretty lil' thing's so needy." Joel lets out, a low groan coming out as he watches your desperate face, staring right back at him with heavy eyes. It makes his cock grow even harder, knowing that he's finally got you like this.
His hands move to grip your hips, guiding them faster as they move to your ass, squeezing it harshly as a low chuckle escapes his throat. You gasp out at the touch, encouraging you to grind down on him even faster, stimulating your swollen clit as you cry out at the feeling.
Heat flows down to your cunt and lower stomach as your climax slowly begins to build up inside of you, and it's almost like Joel can feel it. Feeling how close you are, with your soaked pussy and slick drenching his jeans and thigh.
Just like he wanted.
One of his hands lifts up to smack your ass, an unrelenting force making you whine out at the sudden strike. It sends butterflies to your stomach and a sharp jolt to your core, forcing a moan out of you and a whine of his name on your tongue.
"Sorry, baby.. Y'got such a nice ass, been waitin' so long to do that.." Joel admits, letting out a faint laugh at your response to him. He cocks his head to the side and looks up at you, mouth slightly gaped open as his tongue plays with his cheek, "Ever knew how fuckin' hard you made me? Skimpin' around with your lil' dresses and shorts, passin' me like you knew what you were doin'. Y'never noticed how I'd.. turn my fuckin' head everytime you walked past me, baby.. Glancin' back at it so I could fuck my fist to the thought of you every night.."
"Fuck, fantasized about this fuckin' moment for so long now.."
Another blow of his large hand to your ass hits you unexpectedly, making you shake above him, your hips never slowing. You bite your lip as you look down at him, hands gripping his body to keep your strength. Butterflies fill your stomach as you hear his confession, making you groan.
Your breaths speed up as your climax increases, jaw falling open as you reply to him, "Did.. Did that on purpose, Joel.. Wanted you to look at me, to want me.. Didn't think it worked, fuck— touched myself all the time cus' of you.."
Your confession goes straight to Joel's cock, making him groan out at your dirty words, his fingers ingraining themselves into your ass as he moves your hips how he wants, wanting to push you to the edge already.
"Oh, it worked, honey.. Fuckin' gorgeous girl like you, what'd make y'think it didn't? I'd be a damn fool.." He grunts out, tone low right in your ear as you whimper, your clit growing incredibly sensitive as you grow even closer. "Y'gonna come for me, baby? Feel how fuckin' soaked you are f'me.. You're shaking.. Know y'can do it, come for me, sweet girl.. S'what you wanted this whole time, huh?" Joel encourages you, his hands moving from on top of your dress to underneath it, squeezing your bare ass with just your tiny panties barely covering yourself.
The direct contact of his rough hands on your flesh has you gasping out, the sudden coolness of your skin from his hot hands creating the perfect mix. You just nod your head eagerly as you stare into Joel's eyes, biting your bottom lip the more your aching cunt grinds on him. You stammer out, eyes hazy, "Mhm, f-fuck, Joel.. M'gonna come, p-please.."
Joel just smirks as he stares at your worn out face, nodding his head to encourage you. Sliding his hands down closer to your clothed pussy, his fingertips glide across your lips, your slick coating through your panties and onto his fingers. The feeling of it makes you hiss out as Joel whispers out to you, "Gonna give you what you need, baby.. C'mon now, let me see you.. Come for me now, be a good girl.."
Those words were the final push that you needed, making your cunt clench tightly around nothing, wishing that it was Joel's cock instead. You shut your eyes as you cry out, hands gripping onto Joel's body even tighter as he coos, whispering filthy, encouraging words into your ear while his hands help you chase your release. His hands on your ass begin to slow down, finally letting the weight of your hips rest on his thigh as your climax ends, the fast thumping in your chest slowing.
Breathing heavily, you let out small pants, chest rising up and down as you open your eyes to look at Joel. You give him a tired smile, giggling softly at the state you were in, and Joel grins back up at you, moving his hands up to hold onto your face. He presses a firm kiss on your lips, relishing the taste of you on his tongue. Breaking away from your lips, his thumbs caress your cheeks, looking into your eyes, "Did so good, honey.. Y'wanna return the favor? Prove to me that you deserve more?"
Your eyes widen at his words, nodding your head desperately as you lick your lips, hoping that he's implying what you thought he was. To be sure, you eagerly ask him, "O-Of course, Joel.. What d'you want me to do? Anything you want.."
Joel's lips curl up, grinning at the tone in your voice as he drags one of his hands down to yours to grab it. Guiding your hand, your palm reaches to his hard cock all pent up against his tight jeans, making you gasp out as a deep groan escapes his throat.
"Feel that, baby? Need your lips wrapped around me.. Y'gonna do that for me?" Joel mutters out to you, his gaze dark and set on you completely. Your breath hitches in your throat at his request, and the thought of the mere act makes your mouth water, making you nod your head quickly. "Yeah, fuck, I wanna do that for you.. Been wanting it for so long, Joel.." You admit to him, this time using your hand to squeeze his bulge, feeling how much he really needed you.
He lets out a faint moan, nodding his head back at you as he smirks at your hand squeezing him so good. He questions you, "Wanted what for so long, huh? Wanna hear it, honey."
Your cheeks grow flushed at his words, gulping slightly and hesitating to respond as you look away from him, which just makes him urge you on even more. "C'mon now, you already came all over my fuckin' thigh, I know y'not gettin' all shy on me now, sweetheart.." He teases you, chuckling as he presses his hand to your face, gently squeezing it, but you know his intentions are clear. He has so much power over you; more than you even thought.
His big hands grip onto your face, forcing you to turn to look at him. It's filthy, and you can't help but love it. He nods at you, a final push, and you finally stammer out at him, throat dry, "Wanted your.. cock, Joel.. W-Wanted to suck your cock for so long— fuck, please, Joel.."
He just lets out a faint laugh and nods his head, releasing your face from his hands and patting your cheek as if he was proud of you. "That's it, honey, wasn't so hard now, was it?" He teases you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker to your own, imagining them around him already. "Let's go to the back, baby.. S'gonna be more comfortable that way."
You nod at him as his strong hold is back on you, lifting your hips gently to guide you towards the back. Once the two of you are back there, Joel's legs are laid out on the entirety of the backseat, his back leaning against the door while you're set in between him; the perfect position and view for him to watch you put on a show.
Joel seems to be impatient waiting for you to make your move, as he cocks his head to the side and stares at you. He questions, "What y'waiting for, baby? You're a big girl, aren't you? Don't need me to tell you what to do now, do I?"
You lick your lips nervously as you stare at him, giving him a small, anxious smile. It's not because you've never sucked cock before, but this was Joel, and you wanted it to be good for him. More than you've ever been with anyone else before, and especially your 'boyfriend'.
"N-No, Joel, I got it.." You respond to him, leaning your body closer as your hands reach for the zipper of his jeans. Unbuttoning them, you pull them down a bit with the help of Joel's hips lifting, and your eyes immediately latch onto his huge cock, bulging against his boxers.
You sigh out as your hands glide from his large thighs to his underwear, reaching underneath the hem of the fabric to grasp onto his cock, pulling it out. The mere sight of it makes your jaw fall open slightly, gasping and mouth watering at how thick he was. Fuck, he's the biggest you've ever seen. It made you a bit nervous, but so fucking aroused, as you feel the slick growing between your folds because of it.
Your reaction makes Joel chuckle, leaning his head a bit forward to get a better look at the expression on your face. He lifts his hand to press his fingers against your cheek, holding onto your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. It makes you look back up at him as he questions you, "Too big for you, honey? You ever even sucked cock before?"
You gulp as you purse your lips, nodding your head slightly, "I.. Yeah, I have, but fuck— never this big, Joel.." You respond to him truthfully, your stomach filling up with butterflies of a mixture of nerves and arousal.
He grins at you, laughing a bit cockily, "Don't worry, baby.. Gonna take me real good, right? Make me proud?" He challenges you, the fingers placed on your cheek now sliding down towards your lips, gently pressing the tips of them right at the entrance of your mouth. "Let's start off with these, huh? Wanna see if y'can take em' like you're gonna take me.."
You whimper at his words that hit you right to your core, making you clench around nothing. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you already. You just nod your head slowly, eyes never leaving his as you gently open your mouth for him. Joel takes this as an invitation to continue, slowly moving his index and middle fingers in your mouth.
"Suck on em', baby.. Lemme see what y'can do.." Joel tells you, his head lifting up a bit as his dark gaze looks down at your lips. You just obey him, closing your lips around his fat fingers as he inches them further and further in your mouth towards your throat. Your tongue falls flat underneath his fingers, sucking on them gently as you lift your hands to hold onto his wrist.
Joel starts to grin at you, humming out in satisfaction as he encourages you, "There we go, pretty fuckin' lips.. Show me how you'd suck my cock, c'mon now.."
You moan around his fingers, both of your hands gripping onto his wrist as you use it to pull them out of your mouth, guiding them back in deep as if they really were his cock. You shut your eyes at the feeling of it, reaching further down your throat as you moan again. The taste of him is intoxicating.
Your eyes open back up to stare at him intently, and Joel gives you a light smile, making you feel that sense of pride that you've always craved from him. "Good fuckin' girl.. Shit, lookin' so good like this, baby.." He mutters out lowly, a faint groan coming out.
Before you can continue, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, immediately making you feel empty. You whine out softly at your disappointment which makes him chuckle, reassuring you, "C'mon, honey— Think y'ready now. Make it good for me, yeah?"
You nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than to please him as much as you could. You lean a bit back, giving yourself a bit more room to get in the right position as your hands reach for his cock again. Wrapping a hand around him, you notice that he isn't even fully hard yet, and he's already so fucking big. It doesn't ease your nerves in the slightest, but the ache you feel for him in your cunt distracts you from it completely.
Lowering your head and body, your lips inch closer and closer to the fat head of his cock while your hand slowly strokes him up and down, trying to get him fully hard for your mouth to take him. You look up at him as your lips wrap around the tip of it, sucking onto it gently as you feel him finally harden in your mouth.
Your tongue does its work, circling around him and licking the tip of it while you suck, your eyes never leaving his as his own flicker all over your face; your eyes, your lips. Joel lets out a low groan, reaching over to your head to hold onto it to have some leverage to encourage you.
You slowly lower your head now, taking his cock deeper into your mouth as you moan around it, sending vibrations through Joel's entire body as he hisses at the feeling. "Fuck, that's it.. Deeper, baby, lemme see how much y'can take.." Joel's words fill your ears as you continue, your mouth barely able to take him all the way to the base.
His cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion. Your eyes water as you blink, still staring back up at him to see that reaction on his face. You notice how it twists in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment, and you lift your head back up to gasp for air, immediately lowering your lips back onto him so you don't waste any second that passes.
The noises that Joel makes are filthy, filling your ears and making them burn as your mouth never falters, jaw stretched out as wide as possible for you to take all of him. Joel's grunts become louder, and you take that as sign that you're doing things right, which makes your body fill with pride.
Closing your eyes, you relish the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, the fat tip of it letting out small spurts of pre-cum down your throat. The taste of him only makes you push your head down even further, attempting to take him all the way to the base, but he hits the back of your throat, making you gag out at the unexpected impact.
Before you can lift your head up, Joel's grip on your head tightens as he holds you there, his throat letting out low pants as he stares right at your lips connecting to the base of his cock. Groaning out, he laughs faintly, saying, "Take it, honey, doin' so good for me, f-fuck.."
Barely processing it all, he uses his other hand to slap your face almost condescendingly, and it just makes you moan around him, your throat clenching and eyes opening up to look at him. You didn't even know you liked that, but Joel's power over you has you nearly seeing stars.
Joel lets out a chuckle, all mean and teasingly, "Fuck, yeah.. Dirty girl, you like that shit?" He asks you, and you moan around his cock again, nose breathing in heavily for air as your eyes droop down a bit, nearly high off the feeling of him using your throat. Laughing out, a smirk appears on his face as his hand's grip on you pulls you back up for a moment so you can breathe properly.
Without him even having to encourage you, your mouth is back on him once you catch your breath, desperate to please him and taste his cock again. It makes Joel grunt out, snickering out at you, "Fuck, you're worse than I thought, baby.. You act so innocent, but you're takin' cock like s'all you're meant for.."
You hum against him, eyes looking back up as you take him deeper with your tongue flattening underneath his shaft, and it drives Joel crazy. He just hisses out, hand on your head once again, "Shit.. I'm right, ain't I? Pretty throat’s been craving this, huh? Lil’ boyfriend couldn’t satisfy you.. Thas’ okay, m’ right here now, honey..”
His words send a throbbing pang to your cunt, growing wetter at the thought of him and knowing that he's satisfying your needs more than your boyfriend ever could. It makes you realize that Joel was right; that he was the real man that you needed.
Joel's hands start to guide your lips now, moving your head up and down on him as he watches his cock disappear back down your throat over and over again. Your jaw falls slack as you let him use you just how he wants, eyes watering with tears threatening to fall as his thick cock continues to stretch your lips and throat so good.
The look on your face is nearly pornographic, your lips shaped tightly right around the girth of his cock as if it was a hole meant for him to fuck. The sight of you makes Joel's cock twitch, moaning lowly as he pants out, “What would y’family think if they saw you like this, honey? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ whore with my cock down your throat, like the fuckin’ slut you are. That’s just what you are, right, baby? A lil’ whore for me, s’that it? Gonna let me keep you.. fuck you when I want? Know that’s what you want..”
You just nod your head eagerly at him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sound of his nasty words, and it feels so fucked up knowing that it's turning you on so much. You've always imagined what it'd be like for Joel to just use you how he wants, imagining how it'd be like, and now it's finally happening.
Joel chuckles out at your response to him, and he grunts out as his climax builds up, unexpectedly pulling your mouth off of him as you gasp out for air. Your face looks confused and disheveled, but Joel assures you, "Don't wanna come just yet, baby, we got time for that later. Wanna be in you now."
Before you can respond to him, Joel leans in towards you, his hands reaching out for your body to move you how he wants. Grasping onto your sides, he lifts you slightly to turn you around, moving you to get on your knees to crawl and face away from him. Your body just follows his hands until he has you where he wants, getting onto your hands and knees, bent over for him to stare out the window.
Your breathing grows heavier, gulping softly as you turn your head to look back at him. Joel doesn't waste a second to immediately cherish the view in front of him, his hands now roaming from your calves right up to your thighs, savoring your skin on his fingertips that are now inching towards your aching core.
Your dress is the perfect length for him to see you completely; not too long and not too short, but it's too much coverage for Joel's liking anyways.
His hands move up towards your ass, instinctively pushing the fabric covering you up and over, resting it on your lower back so his view is right of your clothed cunt. Your wet slick has seeped through the light fabric, making Joel chuckle out as he stares right at it. His eyes make you blush, a bit of embarrassment filling your cheeks evidently as you look away from him for a moment.
He just glances up at you and grins, shaking his head at your reaction, "No need to get shy, baby.. S'hot, y'know that? Knowin' this pretty pussy's all soaked for me? Shit.." Joel lets out, laughing faintly as his stare returns back to your cunt, hands sliding back down to your ass. His thumb runs across your folds pressed so tightly together by your thighs, making you gasp and shiver out at the touch.
He moves his other hand now, index and middle finger sliding just beneath the side of your panties to get a good grip of it, pulling it to the side so he can see your throbbing hole and wet folds. It's a dirty scene right in front of him, but it has his cock twitching at the sight.
"Fuck, look at that.. Need me that bad, baby?" Joel whispers out to you, his eyes flickering up to your desperate face and back down. His stare and words make you whine out, your hole clenching around nothing as you swallow.
You do need him that bad, and you were getting impatient.
The action makes Joel sigh out, his thumb now sliding against your bare cunt and through your lips, gathering up how wet you were. His thumb now finds your entrance, pressing in just the tip of it as his eyes move back up to your face, eager to see your reaction.
You just moan out and clench around it desperately, eyes shutting for a moment as your heart races. "Fuck, Joel, just fuck me already, p-please.. Need it so bad.." You beg him, biting your bottom lip harshly as your wide eyes stare into his own.
He just licks his lips as he hears you, considering it for a moment. "Y'think you can take me like this, honey? Don't need me to do anything else? Might hurt.." He asks you, his concerns still evident despite the position you two were in.
You just nod your head at him quickly, whining out softly, "Yeah, fuck, I can take it, please— just need you, Joel.." Your chest rises as you breathe in heavily, wanting him to fuck you already.
Joel smirks at your pleads, the desperation getting the best of you, and it makes his cock even harder. He just nods up at you and removes his thumb from your cunt, shifting his knees and hips closer to your ass as he grips his cock with his hand.
He glides the tip of it up and down your folds, gathering the slick as much as he could. Pressing it against your entrance, he looks up at your face, his other hand gripping onto your hip as he slowly eases it into you. The stretch of him makes you hiss out, shutting your eyes at the intrusion and how big he is.
You stammer out, "F-Fuck, Joel.." as you pant softly, taking in deep breaths to let your walls relax and adjust to him as much as you could. He just grips onto your hip even tighter, giving you a sense of guidance and reassurance.
Joel's heart races at the feeling of your walls clench around him, feeling how tight you are. Grunting out, he pushes himself even deeper inside of you, still taking his time, "Good girl, baby.. Doin' so good, y'feel so good, shit.." He gasps out, his eyes now fixed onto the sight of his cock entering your stretched out cunt.
"Tight fuckin' pussy.. Haven't had one like this in so long, fuck.."
Your breaths speed up with each inch that fills you up, the girth of him creating a stinging ache between your thighs that were nearly trembling. The grasp your walls has on his cock makes it almost harder for him to move further, so he pauses— taking a second for you to adjust.
"You okay, honey? Doin' so good for me, such a sweet girl.." He murmurs out to you, almost panting out as he hisses out. His hands gently caress your lower back and ass, reassuring you as he bends over a bit to press small kisses on your skin. It makes you shiver, nodding your head in response to him, "M' okay, Joel.. Feels so good, p-please move.."
His heavy eyes look back up at you, acknowledging your request and smiling softly. It sends butterflies through your stomach at the thought of him caring so much about you, making sure that you were comfortable and enjoying yourself just as much as he was.
He presses one last kiss to your lower back, pressing his hands on it as he lifts himself back up. Gripping onto your hips, he nods at you and finally pushes himself all the way inside of your throbbing cunt, his hips now flushed against your own. The sudden movement makes you gasp out, your hands holding your body up attempting to squeeze onto the fabric of the seat.
"J-Joel!" You moan his name, eyes closing harshly at the feeling of the fat tip of his cock pressing so deep inside of you, making your involuntary walls constrict around him. It creates a burn in your lower stomach, your body growing hot at the feeling. It makes Joel grunt out, his neck lifting up for a moment to take a breath as he looks back down at your hips connected to his, hands caressing your skin.
He rocks his hips against yours, moving just slightly to get some friction as he allows you to adjust, groaning, "That's it, there y'go.. Knew you could take it, baby, fuck— Feelin' so good wrapped around me, s'it what you wanted?" He asks you, eyes flickering up at your face. Biting your lip, you nod, stammering out, "Mmphf— Y-You're.. so deep, shit, feels so good.."
He chuckles out, stare fixed on your worn out face as he pulls his hips back a bit, taking his time to thrust back into you as deep as he could. He wanted to prove to himself that what you were saying was true.
"S'that right, sweetheart? So deep? Y'feel me right here?" He asks, moving one of his hands just beneath your body and sliding it to your lower stomach, pressing harshly against it. It makes you gasp, feeling the bulge of his cock imprinting itself. You whine, breathing out, "O-Oh, fuck, Joel.. Yeah, feel you right there.."
He just grins at your response, muttering out, "That's fuckin' right, honey.. n' I'm the only one who's ever been this deep, huh?" He urges you on, head leaning a bit closer to you as his hips press tightly against your pussy.
You cry out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you nod, unable to fully form a coherent sentence for him. He just tuts his tongue, head shaking disapprovingly as he pulls his hips back all of the way, not taking a second to wait to slam himself back into you.
It makes you grunt, eyes shooting open as his words fill your ears, the slight mean tone in his voice making your face burn, "Asked you a question, baby.. So you tell me, your lil' boyfriend ever fuck you this good, honey? Fill this pretty pussy this deep?"
Your mind grows hazy, cheeks flushed as you attempt to spit out what he wants to hear, "N-No, Joel.. I, I-"
"No? No? C'mon, haven't even really fucked you yet n' you're already actin' so dumb.. S'that it, cock just make you all stupid for me?"
Tears fill your eyes as his hips pull and push right back into you again, giving you another thrust of his thick cock as you sob out, "J-Joel, shit, no, it jus'.. feels too good, p-please.." You moan, feeling the tight grip his fingers have on your ass nearly imprinting themselves into your skin.
"C'mon now.. Louder, baby, lemme hear it.. Tell me, wanna hear it loud n' clear.. Answer my question.." He pushes you, tone growing louder and strict. His thrusts begin to create an increasing rhythm that makes your jaw drop open at the feeling, his cock stretching your tight walls out with each push of his hips.
"No, Joel! N-Never.. never fucked me this good, oh fuck, never.. this d-deep.. shit!" You blurt out, mind barely thinking as you spit the words out. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your brain and body goes numb, shuttering at the feeling of his unrelenting movements as your head hangs low, staring at your hands gripping the seat.
Joel's grunts and moans surround you completely as your ears begin to ring, his faint laugh and sudden smack of his hand on your ass snapping you out of it at the sting, "That's right.. pretty girl knows her place, fuck," He rushes out, suddenly grasping onto your hair to pull your head back, making you cry out, "Knew you'd be so good for me, honey.. Actin' like a fuckin' slut, takin' my cock this good.."
You breath out heavily, panting out as he holds back your head by his rough grip on your hair, pulling you back a bit to turn your head to try and get a look at him. His words make your pussy clench around him even tighter, turned on at his degradation.
You hum softly, whining as you nod your head gently, tears filling your eyes and threatening to fall as his pace grows even faster, now slamming into your cunt over and over again. He chuckles and grins at the slight sight of your eyes filling up, making him pout condescendingly at you.
"What? M' I wrong, honey? Y'gonna tell me you haven't been practically begging me to fuck you all these years? To treat you like this; like the slut you are, huh?" He taunts you, pulling his cock out all the way to rest against your entrance, and slamming it back in as deep as he could, "Know it's all you've wanted.. all you've ever fantasized about.. Y'don't gotta do that anymore, baby.. cus' I'm right here. Gonna treat you like the fuckin' whore you are.. That's what you are to me.. My fuckin' slut."
A tear finally falls down your cheek, making your lungs fill with air as you pant, mouth falling open and cunt convulsing around him. The tip of his cock keeps hitting the deepest spot inside of you, nearly making you blank out as his words make your cheeks flush. "J-Joel, I—"
Before you can stammer anything else out, Joel's grip on your hair now pulls your body up completely, making your back hit his strong chest, despite it being covered by his tight shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat, barely able to think as his sudden hand lets go of your hair and wraps it around your neck, holding your body right against him.
Keeping you still with the control he has, you moan out and flutter your eyes shut, body shaking and tightening up at him choking you. The back of your head lays on his shoulder, resting it there as he leans in close to your ear, whispering out, "Gonna ruin you for everyone else, baby.. Every time anybody else fucks you, you're gonna think of me; me and my fuckin' cock making you fall apart.. Y'gonna come runnin' back to me.. every fuckin' time— M' gonna make sure of it."
Your eyes open hazily, widening at his words as the grip he has on your throat suddenly pushes you away, making your chest and upper body fall down against the seat, arms not even having any power to hold yourself up. His hands and fingertips sink back into your lower back, now pressing your stomach flush against the seat as it creates an angle that makes you feel him deeper than you've ever felt before.
You can barely process it now, your mouth spewing incoherent noises and words as he holds you down, practically using you just how he pleases. Your hips pushed against the seat are constantly being driven by his thrusts, your pubic bone and sensitive clit being stimulated with each shove.
It makes your eyes shut tightly, unable to control yourself as you pant and moan out for him repeatedly, your hands shaking as you can barely get yourself to hold onto something. His cock buries itself inside of your throbbing cunt over and over again, Joel laughing at the squelching noises that your pussy was letting out.
Before he can say anything, a ring fills his ears that suddenly grab his attention, making his head turn as his movements slow just enough to grasp your attention to make you turn your head and look at the source too.
Your phone, laying on the middle compartment right next to Joel; he reaches for it and sees who's calling, making him grin and chuckle out.
Your boyfriend.
"Well, would y'look at this, honey? Talkin' about runnin' back.." Joel mutters out, turning the phone towards your direction for you to see it too. It just makes your eyes widen, cunt clenching as Joel tests you, "Why don't we let em' hear what you're up to, baby? See how much he's missin' out, huh?"
You know it's so fucking wrong; yet, so fucking right.
Joel doesn't even wait for your response, and just licks his lips and presses answer, putting it on speaker as he lays the phone flat against your back, lifting one of his hands on your hips to smack your ass. The force creates a loud spank, filling the phone's speakers as Joel's hips begin to move at a faster pace again.
It makes you mewl out, tears falling down your face again as your hands try to grip on the seat you were laying on. His grunts are loud and lewd, the snap of his hips smacking against your ass and thighs as he makes you take his cock repeatedly, "There y'go, just like that.." He mumbles out.
Your boyfriend's voice fills your ears now, confusion and the evident drunken tone making you roll your eyes, "The fuck? What was that, baby?"
Before you can even respond, Joel cuts you off, doing the job right for you.
"Y'don't gotta worry about her anymore.. M' takin' real good care of her now.. Ain't that right, baby?" Joel groans out, smacking your ass again as he leans in closer towards your back, nearly laying his chest against you. You just whine out in response, nodding your head quickly as Joel urges you further, tutting his tongue, "No, no, lemme hear it, honey.. Why don't y'tell him yourself? Let him know how good you're takin' my cock.."
Your body and face grows hot, licking your dry lips as you stutter, "F-Feels so g-good, Joel.. You're takin' such good care of me now, I—"
"What the fuck, babe? No, no, this can't be fucking happening."
Joel laughs loudly at your boyfriend's words, leaning his head closer to speak right into your phone, "Oh, but it is, boy. Not m'fault you couldn't fuck your girl this good. But, wait.. she isn't 'your girl' anymore now, is she?" He asks him, the arrogant tone spewing out as his voice lowers.
He reaches his hand over to your neck again, wrapping it around and squeezing it tightly as he ruts himself in you fast and hard, the pace and the hold of his fingers making you scream out his name.
"You fucking asshole, I'll fucking—"
Joel just cuts him off, sighing out annoyingly as he shakes his head, "Shut the fuck up. Don't you fuckin' call her again, much less lay a hand on her. You do that n' I find out?— I will find you. N' I'll make sure to break every bone in your fuckin' body, boy."
As your boyfriend gasps at his words, he begins to stutter some pathetic shit that Joel doesn't wanna bother hearing anymore; so he ends the call, tossing your phone to the side to focus back on you completely.
Shutting his eyes, Joel sighs out as he presses firm, yet gentle kisses to your back, his hips now going a bit slower, but deliberately harder so you can feel every inch of him, cherishing your tight cunt with each second that passes.
"There we go, honey.. Took care of that for you, y'don't gotta worry about him now, fuck— M' gonna make you feel so good.. y'won't need anyone else.." Joel whispers in your ear, laying his chest and body completely over your back as his entire being consumes you, his cock filling you to the brim with each push and pull.
His chin rests just below your shoulder now, grunting into your ear as he mutters filthy words into it, "That right, baby? M' I the only one you need? Gonna let me be the only one who can fuck this pretty little pussy? F-Fuck, please.. lemme hear it, shit— need to hear you say it.."
The pace of his movements start to speed up again as you stammer out, "Y-Yeah, Joel, you're the only one I need, fuck!" his cock twitching at your confession as you continue, "Only need you, only want your cock in me, please— need you to fill me up, make me yours, Joel.."
He moans at your words, panting out as he feels himself growing closer at your pleads, and you're right with him too. His cock hits that spot in your core over and over again, making you wail and sob out at the feeling of your stomach tightening and coiling, biting your lower lip harder to try and stop you from blabbering out.
"Don't do that, baby, no, wanna hear you— please, make those pretty lil' noises for me, honey, y'sound so pretty like this," Joel blurts out, unable to even think as he slams his hips against your ass, creating a sting that makes you lightheaded with your climax growing furiously, "Gonna make me come so deep inside you, baby, jus' like you want.."
His words hit something inside you, making you suddenly see stars as your pussy convulses around his cock, clenching and grasping onto him tightly as you come, your slick coating your thighs and his cock completely. Your body shakes and trembles as he fucks you through it, laughing faintly at your sudden orgasm. "Oh, fuck— there y'go baby, pretty fuckin' girl, take it.." Joel moans out, panting even louder and faster as he chases his own release.
You cry out, your cunt being overstimulated by his unrelenting thrusts as he buries himself even harder and deeper into you, making you spew out, "Shit, Joel! C-Come inside me, fill me up, please, please, need it so—"
Joel's loud grunts cut you off, feeling the sudden warmth of his come spill inside of you completely as he slams his cock in as deep as he can, making sure you feel every inch of him and his come. His hips rock into you, grinding his pelvis harshly to try and get even a fraction of him deeper inside of you. It makes you wince out, your sore cunt oversensitive at the feeling.
His body completely gives out on top of yours, his breaths filling your ears as you both take each other in, falling from your highs and trying your best to relax. You laugh softly as you process everything that's just happened, and Joel does the same, pressing small kisses to the back of your neck as his hand lets it go.
"Shit, honey— so fuckin' good.. You alright?" He mutters out, chuckling as you turn your head slightly to look at him, taking in your worn and fucked out face. You just nod your head at him, feeling a bit hazy as you smile, laughing out, "Yeah.. Never better."
Joel's eyes glimmer as he swallows, pushing aside the hair that was covering your face as he admires you, grinning softly at you, "Should've done this years ago.. Y'been holdin' back on me, baby." He murmurs out, his smile widening.
You press a small kiss to his lips, licking your own as you correct him, "Been trying to get you to for years, Joel.. not my fault it took this long." He just shakes his head amusingly, pursing his lips.
"Well.. Y'wanna stay with me for the night? Maybe I can teach y'another lesson on how a.. 'real man' should treat ya?" He proposes to you, laughing at his reference of what he said to you earlier and what started this in the first place.
You just smile at him and nod your head eagerly:
"Wouldn't want anything more."
-
a/n: kinda wanted to make joel threaten/hit reader's bf, but i figured joel's idea of revenge was so much sweeter <3
this is by far my fav fic i've written out of my 1st three, so i’d love some feedback from you all! ♥️
wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!
-
reblogs are appreciated!
send me requests & i might write it for you! :)
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gloomwitchwrites · 13 days
Note
congrats on 1k!
would you be able to do something with ghost and pda? like when he’s with the team being all intimidating but completely changing when he’s with you?
Oh, anon! I would be happy to! Do I believe that at work Simon is an intimidating and slightly scary individual? Absolutely I do. Do I also believe that outside of work Simon is literally the opposite? Yes. Yes, I absolutely do. This is written with a gn!reader in mind!
Content & Warnings: fluff, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, brief suggestive themes
Word Count: 535
A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests for the 1k follower event. This is just a reminder that the event is closed and I am not taking any more requests. Thank you!
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist
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Simon who is always a stoic and intimidating individual while on the job. He is relatively calm, cool, and collected. He is excellent under pressure. He is confident in his skills. And like his callsign, Simon is exactly that—a ghost.
Simon who can slit throats, break necks, and unload his weapon without a second thought. He doesn’t blink when it’s not one of his own. Some find that scary. Others admire him. Simon accepts the praise quietly and keeps going.
Simon who starts to shift when it’s finally time to come home. The team notices but doesn’t say anything. Simon always appears a bit anxious. His foot constantly taps like he’s impatient and can’t get out of there fast enough. They don’t blame him. They all have someone they want to return to.
Simon who knows that he can’t drive too fast or speed his way home because he knows you’ll be upset with him. And he always arrives late in the night when you don’t expect him. Simon is quiet. He undresses quietly. Sets all of his stuff down. Curls up next to you in the bed. Immediately falls asleep.
Simon who is soft and tender with you when you finally awaken to him. He wants to rebuild that connection, repair what might have been lost, and that starts with the physical. Once that’s done, Simon only wants to rekindle the romance.
Simon who never wears his mask on dates. Never. Ghost is for work. The mask is for work. There are only two people in this relationship. You and Simon.
Simon who never stops touching you. If he’s not holding your hand, he’s resting his chin on the top of your head, or he has an arm slung over your shoulder. If he’s feeling a little possessive, it might be a hand on the back of the neck, or a firm palm on the ass.
Simon who doesn’t care if anyone sees him kiss you. If people stare, he’ll put on a show even if you protest and try to slip out of his arms.
Simon who absently finds himself touching you even in the most generic of places. Grocery store, pharmacy, or standing in line. His body is always physically near. He can’t help it.
Simon who speaks softly and gently to you. His gruff voice is for the bedroom or when you’re irritating him.
Simon who looms behind you (sometimes menacingly) just because he likes to show everyone around the two of you that you belong to him and no one else. People get the message rather quickly.
Simon who loves to pull you in by the waist and kiss you in corners when there isn’t anyone watching. He won’t put on a show. He just wants a little moment with you.
Simon who is always reaching for you when the two of you are out at a restaurant. Sometimes it’s a hand on the thigh. Sometimes it’s reaching across the table because he wants to hold your hand.
Simon who always tries to kiss your knuckles whenever you try to hand him something.
Simon who hates shutting out your love for a bit when he returns to his work.
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@saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @lialacleaf
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@suhmie @kidd3ath @lovely-ateez @marispunk @glitterypirateduck
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after-witch · 5 months
Text
Two in the Hand [Yandere Sukuna x reader]
Title: Two in the Hand [Yandere Sukuna x reader]
Synopsis: Sukuna wants to eat you. 
Word count: 1000ish
Notes: yandere, threats of cannibalism, mentions of sexual conquests 
Inspired by the interaction prompt: Sukuna says he wants to eat you. Reader replies: "Ah, I'm flattered, but I'm saving myself for marriage!"
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The dual reactions on Yuji’s--but not entirely Yuji’s--face play out swiftly. Yuji’s cheeks flush a pinker hue at your words, while the mouth currently planted in the center of one cheek curls downward… and then upward. 
It’s almost dizzying, the way you’re trying to pay attention to both of them at once. Yuji, your friend; Sukuna, the curse currently lodged inside him, of which you can only see a mouth that has shifted location three times during Sukuna’s diatribe about consuming you.
He means it literally. You realized this early on. Or rather, he admitted it directly without so much as a metaphor when he discussed the best cuts of human meat, the best ways to consume it to ensure best flavor, and the way that he wonders if modern humans taste better or worse than their predecessors. 
“You would let your spouse consume your flesh?” Sukuna asks, and Yuji slaps his hand over the demonic lips on his face to silence them.
”Just--” Yuji begins, but he cringes--
The lips reappear on the top of Yuji’s hand, unbothered. 
“Answer me, human. Or I’ll eat you right now.”
You almost want to ask him how he plans to eat you when he’s currently a pair of lips, but if Sukuna can make the lips on Yuji’s body speak, perhaps it’s not far off to assume they might be able to tear at your flesh.
So you start to think, and think quickly. You keep your posture meek and you even give a little bow.
"Of-of course, Sukuna." You pause. Should you call him something more deferential? It might help. You've gained the strongest sense that he sees himself as vastly superior to everyone else in the world, human and curse alike. "I mean, of course, lord Sukuna. I'd be happy to offer an explanation."
If only you could think of a proper one, beyond your initial excuse, stammered out because you didn’t know what else to say to such an awful, violent, disturbing threat aimed at you from a demonic pair of lips. 
There's a moment of silence. Two, three or four. And the lips on Yuji's hand--still there, despite Yuji attempting to literally shake them off--begin frown again. They’re starting to twist, perhaps to threaten you again, when you perk up.
“It’s just that…” You lower your head in deference again. Yuji quirks his head, but you can see from the corner of your eye that the lips have ceased to curl downward. “Being devoured is the ultimate act of intimacy. And if I’m going to be one with someone forever, my lord, it’s only proper that it’s my spouse.” 
You fiddle with the edge of your shirt. “I certainly couldn’t imagine some stranger consuming me, keeping me with them forever like that. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be proper.”
You swallow against spit and the faintest hint of bile, before daring to glance up. Yuji’s gaze goes between you and his hand, until--
Laughter comes from the lips embedded into his skin, low and mean. You can imagine, if Sukuna were in front of you, that he would throw his head back in mockery. 
And then, Sukuna says something. It’s not a word that makes any sense, really. But Yuji throws his head back and suddenly, he’s not Yuji at all.
He’s Sukuna.
With black markings on his face and a look in his eyes that makes you want to run. Only then, a thought comes to mind, something your father told you when you were little, and hiking in the woods: 
Never run from a predator. It only makes them chase you.
“You’re most entertaining,” he says, while you stand there, open-mouth, trembling like a cold wind has blown through the air. 
“Entertaining?” You parrot. You take a step back, and he matches it forward.
“Most humans are too frightened to do anything but beg for their lives, if they even get that far, when I threaten to eat them.”
You force your hands into fists and will them to stop shaking. They don’t.
“I suppose,” you begin, looking downward, partially out of the fear of not showing respect and partially out of the way you hate to look at him. “That most people are concerned with dying when they hear you say that.”
Sukuna’s smile widens into a grin.
“And you aren’t concerned with dying, little lamb?”
This conversation might as well take place on a butcher’s block, you think.And you’re the cut of meat trying to convince the butcher to put you back in the freezer. 
“Of course, I wouldn’t want to die.” You stare down at the ground. He’s taken another step forward, and his shoes--no, Yuji’s shoes--are in  your line of vision. “But that is where the question of… spousal intimacy comes in, you see. With a stranger…” You shake your head, feigning distaste. “It’s simply not proper. But with my spouse, well, I would become one with them in a manner far beyond simple matrimony.” You manage a smile, feeble, but hopefully not too fake. 
There’s silence, for a moment.
And then there’s a finger on your chin and it feels like cold steel as it tilts your chin up, and you’re forced to look at him, though you keep your eyes averted. 
“Aren’t you prim and proper?” He says, low, teasing. “You know,” he says, taking your chin between two fingers, “it was always the prim and proper ones who came the most undone in the past. They were raised to be so uptight…”
He leans in closer. There’s something awful that seems to come with his closeness, a darkness and heaviness that threatens to pull you down to the ground. 
He’s going to kiss me, you think. He’s going to kiss me and then rip open my mouth and chew the flesh and--
But he doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he lets go of your chin and takes a step back.
You look at him with what must be the loudest confusion in the world on your face. He laughs, and tilts his head back. 
“If we’re to be spouses, I intend a traditional courtship first. Kissing comes later. Wouldn’t that be proper?”
There’s hardly any relief to be felt when it’s Yuji, not Sukuna, looking at you.
“Huh?”
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fallingdownhell · 5 months
Note
How do you think the Sumeru boys would react to their s/o getting shrunk?
An interesting scenario... 👀 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh (+Wanderer) Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; idk if this classifies as crack??; bit of comedy; bits of fluff Word count: 910 words Have fun<3
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Tighnari
I personally see this going one of two ways
first, when realizing what has happened, he'd drop everything, all his work and responsibilities, and try to figure out how this happened and how to turn you back to normal again
or, he would want to do that, but he just can't because something really important is happening today... then, as shitty as this sounds, he'd just take you along with him, like in a backpack or pocket or something. Because he does not trust that nothing won't happen to you while he's out and about
whichever it is, he'd be very gentle with your tiny form and take very good care of you
when first noticing your current predicament, Tighnari would be shocked, maybe laugh a little bit, but he'd soon focus on helping you figure things out
he's not too keen on you staying this way for a longer period of time, or even forever, so he'd work hard on finding a solution
overall okay reaction, very helpful and polite about it, though he does put out an occaisonal comment here and there. But it's all in good fun, so don't worry
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Cyno
oh boy
you best prepare to be the butt of every of his jokes for the foreseeable future from now on
even if you manage to turn you back to normal, he will not let you forget about this incident, ever
would probably laugh at you, questioning you how you even managed that in the first place
but all jokes aside, he IS worried about you, so he does the only thing he can think about
he grabs you very carefully and carries you to Tighnari, hoping that his friend and Forest Ranger might know or can help to come up with a solution to the problem
he'll stay there with you until you're back to normal, that means that his work will be put on hold, no matter what anyone has to say about it
will turn restless and worried if there's no easy or quick solution available, but will do his best to support you, even though he will still make jokes about you
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Alhaitham
shock and surprise is his first initial reaction
like, frozen on his spot, kinda shocked
does not know how to react appropriately or what to say, at all. One of the few times in his life where he's actually speechless
once he's recovered from the shock, he's asking you a whole lot of question. If you remember how this happened, how you feel, if you noticed anything unusual, if you maybe know how to revert back, etc
just, literally any question that comes to his mind, really
he views this entire situation very neutral, like some sort of experiment that he wants to figure out
and since you're the only one affected and involved, it's only obvious that he asks you all these questions
plus, by answering them, he might be able to figure out what's going on and how to revert you back to normal
if he can't come up with a solution on his own, he'd go into the House of Daena, searching for every book available that is loosely connected to the issue at hand
should that still not deliver results, he'll help you consult doctors and other specialists in order to help you get better again
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Kaveh
full on panic mode activated
he sees what has happened to you, and freaks out over it
almost impossible to calm him down again. And since your voice is a lot quieter in your tiny form, you have to almost shout out your lungs in order to get his attention again
out of the two of you, you're definitely the calmer and more levelheaded one in this situation
he's helping you with whatever you need. When you ask him to take you to the doctors, he does so, no questions asked
though you have to constantly remind him to not squeeze you so hard in his hands
cut him some slack, will you? He's not used to something like this, he has to constantly remind himself to treat you carefully and gently
will freak out again if no one can figure out what is wrong with you or how to treat you
he may not have much money, but you best believe he's putting every single Mora he has into trying to figure this out and get you back to your normal self
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Wanderer
shocked at first, but will soon start to tease you about it relentlessly
he'll lovingly call you names like "shorty", "shortcake", and other stuff, now that you're so much tinier than him
he's having his fun teasing you for some time, but in the end, he does worry about you and wants you back to your usual self
since he doesn't trust you to be by yourself while like this, he carefully picks you up when he goes to pay Nahida a visit, thinking that she might know something about what has happened to you
together, the three of you would put your heads together, trying to figure something out
would feel annoyed if you're still in this state by the end of the day, but tries not to show it. It's not your fault after all, and you can't really do anything about it, so he doesn't want to let it out on you
but you best believe that it's his top priority from now on to get to the bottom of this. And should he find out that someone else is responsible for this, then they best prepare , because he won't go easy on them should he ever come across them...
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hilsonologist · 9 months
Note
Idea! he team found out about Price's husband on a tv game, which they were watching out of boredom. His last name on the jersey is [lastname]-price. They think its a coincidence. But when he makes a winning shot, and the camera pans to him, he dose this specific hat thing, like pinch and smuge the rim of his hat, like when you pinch salt. They realize, its what Price dose! Coincidence I think not!
OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!!! IM !!!!!!!
hehehe some hcs under the cut thank you anon!
no warnings i can think of, m!reader, reader is a pitcher in this!
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- john would have the game on at the base, ultimately forcing the rest of the task force to watch as well
- literally put the remote in his pocket so they couldn’t change it. they just assumed he really liked the sport for some reason and watched it as well.
- soap was and gaz ended up being the only ones truly paying attention, ghost would give the screen a glance every now and then, mostly just listening to the announcers voice as background noise.
- price only paid attention when you were on the field as per usual, sat next to gaz puffing away at his cigar, soap sat on the floor ( swears its more comfy ), with ghost at the opposite end of the couch
- it was bottom of the 9th and the opposing team’s bases were loaded, 3 balls 2 strikes and 2 outs. your team was up by two points but if they managed to hit a run or walk there was a good chance they could catch up. you needed to strike him out.
- price was stressed. his body tense as he leaned forward eyes fixed on the screen.
- gaz is looking at him like ‘???’ because price never mentioned being a baseball fan.
- it wasn’t that he kept you or your career a secret, it was well known he was married. he was just never questioned about it by the boys and the topic never got brought up
- he also figured it might be safer for both of you seeing you were such a public figure and he had plenty of threats with his job, it wasn’t exactly something he bragged about at work. should your identity fall into the wrong hands he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you
- ghost ever the observer couldn’t help but notice the way price paid extra attention to the player with, [last name]-price on the back of their jersey. though he figured it was just coincidence
- soap was just excited to be watching a sport tbh, thought it was boring but started to understand as the game went on. now that things were tense he was at the edge of his seat.
- “c’mon luv…” price would mutter under his breath barely audible as you prepared for the pitch that could make or break the game
- you threw a strike with precision, striking their batter out and earning your team the win for the night
- you had your signal to price, it’d become a bit of a signature move for you. as your teammates joined you on the field, cheering and celebrating everyone pumped full of adrenaline you smiled brightly eyes searching for the camera
- as soon as you found it you pulled your signature move, pinching the bill of your baseball cap and smudging your fingers along it while shooting a small wink to the camera. every one of your movement a direct communication to price. that you’d played for him, you won for him, that you were still thinking of him
- gaz noticed your gesture and looked to price in slight confusion. he’s seen price make that exact gesture with his boonie hat more times than he could count.
- ghost noticed too, also taking note of the way price’s lips twitched upward when he watched you and your team celebrate on screen. he was already sure there was something deeper to price’s interest in the game
- soap of course was the first to open his mouth
- “s’like he’s yer soulmate er somethin, captain.”
- “he is.” price would state so seriously, not a hint of joking in his tone. only fondness, even a bit of pride, his eyes never leaving the screen clinging to every bit of you he could get while so far away
- gaz’s eyes would get all wide and he’d say something like “right way to go cap.” finds the fact that price would watch a whole baseball game just for you and your on screen silent communications really romantic ( hopeless romantic gaz truthers rise up! )
- ghost pats himself on the back mentally, muttering a “knew it.”
- then there’s soap who turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “YER GAY??” which earns him a light nudge in the side from ghost’s boot and a chuckle from price
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lolabangtan · 1 year
Text
sideshow | jjk
You’re a successful cam girl in need of a hot guy with a big cock, and you think you’ve found your match.
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Word count: 9k
Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy.
# cam girl!reader, coffee shop AU, mutual pining, hand job, oral sex (female and male receiving), squirting, face sitting, restraints, unprotected sex, face-fucking, dacryphilia, overstimulation and post-orgasm torture, teasing/degradation, cream pie, cum play, recording kink, dub-con role play, they’re so cute *sobs*
A/N: let’s not ask about this and enjoy it without wondering where the inspiration came from.
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You’re always staring at him. When you’re in line waiting for your order, chatting with someone else when he’s nearby, or even when you secretly spot him working as you pass by the window – you’re always staring at Jeon Jungkook.
Your friends mock you for it whenever they get the chance. It’s almost as if you, the sexy, mysterious girl who records herself for a living, having such a silly, wholesome crush on someone was the most amusing thing they’ve ever heard. But a guy like him, so kind and hot and funny, is worth it, and you won’t deny it.
But being honest, they’re right by showing their surprise. You just don’t come off as the kind of girl who’d fall for a guy like him.
Apart from being kind, hot, and funny, Jeon Jungkook is also extremely popular while still being down to earth. An endangered specimen – if there’s ever been one before. He’s got his tattoos, and his adorable dog, and his decent schoolwork managing skills, and his outstanding talent at any sport to ever exist. And in the meantime, you sometimes catch him staring back, so your mind has to work twice as much to fish for an excuse. You just think it’ll be better in the long run.
Because honestly, people always talk. They point at you, make comments, or ask creepy questions. Surely Jeon Jungkook, with his brilliant future, doesn’t want that just because his cock might get hard with one of your videos.
In a way – a stupid, pointless way – you’re always staring at each other.
“You could try and talk to him one day, you know. Maybe then you’ll see there’s literally not a single thought behind those silly doe eyes.”
You can’t help laughing at Seokjin’s words, almost choking on your coffee. “Isn’t that a bit mean? I thought you liked him.”
“And I do!”
“Hm, look at the time.” You check your phone before putting it back into your purse. “I’d better hurry if I don’t wanna keep my sister waiting. We’ll talk later, okay? And I will not approach him just because. I really don’t need any gossip about me.”
Well, you’re just stressed. You need some money for your Spring break trip to the beach, but you aren’t exactly thrifty. Actually, you’re quite the opposite.
So, you’ve come up with an idea: charging for requests and uploading them to your website. The answer from your subscribers was immediate and increasingly positive, with only one problem.
The most voted idea was a POV, which sadly required another person to join you. Someone with a big, nice cock if it’s possible. You’d ask Seokjin, but he’d never let his almost little sister-like friend suck his cock and give him four orgasms in a row. And it’s not something you’d do either in a world where you weren’t desperate.
You’re not going to lie, there’s only one person you’d want to do that video with – and he’s walking out into the backbar right now.
The two of you stop at the same time as you walk past each other. Not noticing his presence next to you, you keep looking at the poster with the newest sweet additions to the menu and sigh with satisfaction at the fact that you’ll be able to keep enjoying your good old butter croissants.
Then you turn around.
“Oh, shit— sorry! God, I’m so clumsy! Let me help you.”
You squat down to pick up the broken pieces of glass scattered on the floor. When you look up, you’re met with the sight of a staring Jeon Jungkook bent in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to repeat.
His lips twitch as if he wanted to say something, but the man keeps quiet as you hand him back his stuff. You can’t help looking down at his muscular arms, covered in black ink. Although Jungkook remains impassive and cool, here you are, practically malfunctioning – while he’s probably wondering why the cam girl hasn’t left yet.
“Just— be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”
He does look like a bunny, now that you think of it. A really hot bunny.
Fucking shit, you can’t help it, can you? To stare, to drool, to picture your hands stroking down his chest, kneading the flesh. You love ripped guys, especially when it doesn’t get over their heads. You’d eat him up in a second, pinky promise.
“Sorry,” you say again, standing up. “I wasn’t looking.”
“Y/N! Are you okay?”
Namjoon rushes up to you, breaking the strange silence between you and Jungkook. He sees the mess and starts to pick up the broken pieces, asking you to step back just in case. With a nod, the youngest offers to go and fetch a broom, and Namjoon thanks him.
Your friend lets out a laugh. “Only with my homeboy, huh?”
“Hm?”
“You only get like this with Jungkookie,” he explains. “The rest of the time, you’re a merciless succubus.”
“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you,” you groan.
Namjoon starts wiping the floor, and you help him by picking up the plastic bag.
“Do you think he likes you back?”
You shrug. “I guess he might be attracted to me, but I don’t think he likes me... in that sense. I don’t care, though – it’s not like we’re a match or something. I’m probably just attracted too.”
Jungkook comes back with the broom and cleans the floor while you look around in a poor attempt to avoid his eyes. You don’t notice the way he looks at you, nor the pent-up frustration with which he grips the stick of the broom, his lips twitching again.
“Well, I, uh— I’ll leave you to it. And sorry again, I wasn’t looking.”
With that, you rush out of the coffee shop and run down the street until you reach the number you were looking for. Taking out your keys, you open the door and walk in, going directly to the second floor.
When you get into the flat, the storm unleashes:
“God, I was so worried! You should’ve told me you’d be running late.”
Like always, visiting your older sister comes with a nagging and a steamy cup of coffee. You’re enjoying both of them sitting in her kitchen.
“You’re exaggerating,” you groan.
“Yeah, sure, it’s not like any of your creepy fans could ever doxx you or something and kidnap you.” With a raised eyebrow, you stare at her over the mug. “Hm, okay, just build the habit of telling me if you’re gonna be late, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So” – she turns around with a grin and leaves her mug in front of you – “who is this Jungkook guy and why haven’t you asked him out already?”
Your face turns a bright red. “How do you know about—? Fucking Jin...”
“Come on, you’re usually bolder. You really like him, don’t you?” At your shrugging, your sister chuckles. “You’re entitled to like people, you know that, right? And hit on them, and ask them out. Just because you had a few bad experiences—”
“It’s just not gonna happen,” you blurt out. “You know why? First, because he’s not remotely interested in me. And second, because I know, I just know how this is going to end if I do,” you continue, your face growing warmer. “And I don’t care about all the nice guys out there because, in the end, they’re all the same; dicks with an excuse of a brain.”
“You want to have sex with him, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah?”
She laughs again. “Then try the opposite! You think he’d only be interested in the shagging? Go shag. And then see if he stays.”
You bury your face in the palms of your hands, thankful for the chilly contact. The skin cools down, and a sigh escapes from your lips.
“What if he says no?”
“Then he doesn’t want to fuck. That’s uncommon for a man so, one point for him.”
Ah, yes, your sister and her logic; it’s utterly stupid and yet, you always fail to rebuke her absurd reasoning. It’s almost a talent, you think. Maybe that’s why she’s a lawyer.
“Well, I do have a plan,” you murmur.
Her eyes brighten immediately. “Then go for it, tiger! He’s super cute, and super hot! Better get your heart broken by a ten if all men suck.”
The coffee shop is almost closing when you arrive; you had asked Namjoon who was closing tonight so, when you heard it’d be him, you rushed out of your sister’s place to get there in time. This is a one-time chance.
You spot him behind the window, wiping a cup.
There’s a sigh coming out from his mouth when the door jingles open. The common frustration of having a last-minute customer.
“Hey.”
“Ah— it’s you,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, and you frown. “I-I mean, I thought you were some annoying random, sorry… I don’t mind making you a coffee.”
Oh, that was nice. Very nice.
You quietly take a seat at the counter. “Thanks.”
“Uh, so…” You’re lucky Jungkook isn’t facing you, turned from you instead as he turns on the coffee machine. Otherwise, he’d notice your red face and the eagerness with which you listen to him as he stutters, “I-it’s pretty late— for a coffee. Do you have to stay up late tonight?”
“Not exactly.”
Finally, Jungkook turns around and hands you the coffee, looking pretty much puzzled.
“I was wondering if you’d like to work with me,” you finally let out, and your chest feels weightless for a second— until you come back to earth and realise that you’ll have to hear an answer.
He’s looking at you in complete silence.
Maybe he really doesn’t know that you’re a cam girl? Maybe he’s just thinking about what your job could be and how could the two of you possibly work together. Or maybe he’s just zooming out, who knows? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Do you want me to, uh, e-edit a—?” Jungkook gets cut off by his own coughing as his cheeks turn red. “Sorry, edit a video... for you?”
Ah.
Of course he knows.
He knows, so there’s a chance he might have watched one of them. Maybe all of them. Perhaps Namjoon told him about it, or perhaps he thought you looked familiar and asked him. In his mind – and that’s what makes it awkward, and not the fact that he’s probably watched you naked or touching yourself – he knows what you work for, and every single interaction is stained with that.
“Uh— not... Not really.” You don’t notice, but Jungkook holds his breath, and his heart starts beating faster. “It was more along the lines of making one together.”
Your heart is beating fast too.
“Me?”
Well,  I’ve been told that you’ve got a big cock, oh, and because I have a crush on you.
You shrug. “Thought you could use the money, and you do have a nice body— your face wouldn’t show, though.”
“I, uh...”
“Just asking if you were down!” you blurt out then, stepping back. “Of course, it’s up to you. I understand if you’re not comfortable with us, uh, having—”
“I-I get you,” he laughs. Now his face is as red as a strawberry.
In silence, you stand there, waiting for an answer. However, it seems like neither of you is functioning properly at the time, so you clear your throat with your heart clenching painfully in your chest and let out a shaky laugh:
“Of course, it’s too weird, so, uh— forget I said anything. Thank you for considering it, have a nice day!”
You rush out of the café, but his voice stops you:
“Wait!”
You turn around and look at him; he looks positively embarrassed, even more than you, although it’s understandable – probably due to the circumstances – so, you wait, breath hitching, for him to continue.
Jungkook looks away. “I— I didn’t say no.”
“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” you rush to clarify. “That’s my number.” You hand him a business card, which he seems too afraid to check. “Call me… if you’re interested. I’ll leave now, thank you for your time. And— uh, nothing. Bye.”
“Bye…”
By the time you leave the coffee shop, your heart is beating so hard that you think it could be a stroke. Your cheeks are boiling hot, and you struggle to walk down to the bus stop while your legs wiggle. You did it, it’d done – you’ve already asked Jeon Jungkook to film an erotic video with you for your page.
You don’t get any signs of life from Jungkook until two days later, at two in the morning.
Namjoon told you that they had met some friends for a drink after closing time, so you’re not surprised that he’s up so late. He also tends to go to bed late when he stays up playing console games.
[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: Hello, Y/N.
[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: It’s Jungkook.
[Saturday, 2:18 AM] Unknown: I have been thinking about it and, if the offer still stands, I accept.
Your heart immediately somersaults the glowing letters on your screen. Reality fell on your shoulders, and you finally understood that you would be filming that video with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe you could ask him out on a date later, but it’d be tomorrow’s you’s nuisance to worry about rejection. For the time being, you’re going to get on with the script so that you can send it to him as soon as possible.
[Saturday, 5:43 AM] You: Cool, I’ve attached the script. Just let me know if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable with or want to change. When are you free?
[Saturday, 5:44 AM] You: Of course, we’ll go through your limits before filming.
Jungkook’s reply doesn’t arrive in time for you to read it; as soon as you’re done with it, you plummet into your bed and fall asleep, totally exhausted.
[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: Looking forward to it!
[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: I mean
Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message
Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message
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The bell goes through your head like a nail. Your mouth is dry and your body trembles, but you get up to open the door in the hope that it’s not Jungkook behind it.
After you had sent him the script, it took him a while to answer. Then, after three hours, he only answered ‘okay’ and asked you when you would be meeting. You agreed on the day and time, and here you are, turning the doorknob with your heart beating through your chest.
“Hi, come in.”
You step aside, and Jungkook walks into your small flat; it’s cute and cosy, with the golden light coming in through the windows. His black clothes soak in it as you watch him get comfortable and, for a second, it feels like he’s coming over for a date, just to hang out. It feels nice, that small, minute, short second.
“Want anything to drink?”
“Yes—” Jungkook clears his throat. “Yes, please. Water’s good.”
You come back with two glasses of water and sit in front of him on the couch, determined to calm down your nerves.
“Okay, so, I understand that you read the script, right?” you ask, and he nods instantly, perhaps too quickly. “Uh, so… is there anything you’d like to change? Anything you don’t feel comfortable with?”
Jungkook glances at you only to look away in the blink of an eye. He’s biting his lip again.
“No, hm, everything sounds good so far. I mean— t-there’s nothing I don’t like, like… there’s nothing that turns me… off.” He eventually gets discouraged to keep talking and gulps down the glass of water in front of him. “Sounds good, you know, with the angle you suggested.”
“Nothing at all? Are you sure? I wrote a lot of things.”
He keeps avoiding your eyes. “Yeah, I’m cool with it… And I brought the test results.”
“Good,” you murmur and take the papers as he hands them out to check them. “All clean, that’s good. I’ve got mine too, and I’m on birth control, obviously.”
“Cool.”
“I liked your suggestions for the plot, by the way.” Maybe it’s better to give Jungkook some praise for his effort, that way he will relax a little around you. “A bit wicked— but in a good way. Did you get it from a movie?”
He turns red in a second, and you have to press your thighs together. “N-no, I— it just came to my mind. I can add the effects later.”
You nod slowly and clear your throat.
Once the both of you have gone through every single detail of the script, you’re half turned on, half mortified. It’s almost as if your brain hasn’t fully processed that you will be doing all of this with Jungkook in an hour, or maybe even earlier.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t come off shaky. “And, well, we can stop at any moment, okay? We’ll just stop everything, no hard feelings.”
“Thank you…”
You give him a robe and show him the bathroom, where he gets changed and washes up only to return to your bedroom; that’s where you record everything, but there is a tarpaulin covering the whole wall, including the window. This way, and with a VPN, you make sure you keep your affairs decently hidden.
You’re also wearing a robe when Jungkook walks in, revealing the sight of your cleavage.
You walk up to him. “All good?” you ask. “Do you want anything? A glass of water? Viagra, or an energy bar?”
Jungkook stares at you, a bit surprised, or taken aback by the joke. You turn around in shame, with an apology on your lips, before you notice the way his cheeks turn red and an amused smile creeps to his own.
“A glass of water’d be great, thanks.”
When you return from the kitchen, you’re also bringing along a bunch of papers. “Here are the test results, I’m all clean. Thank you” – Jungkook hands you his own results, and you skim-read them – “I’m also on birth control, in case I didn’t tell you already, so feel free to, uh…”
“O-okay, gotcha.”
Luckily, he doesn’t make any faces as you shut up, discouraged; why are you acting like an idiot who has no idea what she’s doing? He’s probably regretting it already.
You have prepared the props for filming in your room; your bed, which you insisted on buying with a bar headboard, is already set with the ropes, so all that remains is to tie the victim with them. You’ve done the same with the foot of the bed, as well as the POV camera that’s fitted just above his head. He’s wearing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and you’ve put on a shirt that shows your nipples through and a pair of panties that are a bit too small so that your folds are marked.
What can you say: you consider yourself a meticulous creator.
“Okay, so I think everything’s ready. You can lie down now; I’ll take care of the rest.”
When Jungkook is finally lying on the bed, you straddle him to fasten the ties around his wrists and ankles.
It’s weird to feel his warm body beneath you after pining for him for so long; you can feel his thighs tensing and flexing under your ass, how he shifts on the mattress, looking down at your hands and how they skilfully tie him to the bed headboard. His eyes burn wherever they land, you fear you might be getting a bit of stage fright.
“How are you doing?” Jungkook murmurs a ‘good’, looking up at you. “Cool… Then we can get down to business.”
Holding your breath, you lean into him to turn on the camera and, as soon as the red light appears, you realise you’ve been holding it for too long and let out a deep sigh. Time to get into character. Don’t think about it, Y/N.
You look down at him; Jungkook stares back, waiting for you to get on with the script.
Faking a wicked smile, you bend over him and dive on his neck for a kiss, being as loud as possible, slurping and groaning. He shivers beneath you, and you feel yourself already getting turned on just by having him at your mercy like this. After all, this is supposed to be erotic.
Suddenly, Jungkook fixes your knee on his crotch and moves it a bit to the left, taking you by surprise.
“Are you awake, sweetheart?” you ask, pretending you aren’t surprised.
As you wait for a response, you bend down to leave a trail of pecks down his jaw and neck, peppering kisses on his shoulder now, as Jungkook stirs beneath you again.
“Uh… w-where am I?” he asks as he stares down at you with a pitiful frown. “Who are you?”
You let out a giggle. “I was hoping you’d recognise me, but I guess I need to be humbled… I’m the girl of your wet dreams, baby.”
“I-I don’t know what—”
You attack his lips this time, delving for a deep kiss. Jungkook eventually closes his eyes and gives in to your kiss, uttering a meek whimper against your lips and pulling at the ropes to no avail. When you move away, you sit on his crotch, happily surprised.
“Oh, what do we have here? Someone’s waking up, look.”
Before he can say anything, you pinch his tip over his trousers. He twitches again, leaking precum, as you can tell from the way a wet patch appears in the fabric.
“I’m sure it’s small, so tiny I wouldn’t even feel it,” you snicker, “but I’ll use it anyway, maybe as a plug for my butt.”
Jungkook whines, feeling himself getting even harder. “I-it’s not small—”
Honestly, when you dropped by the coffee shop and asked him to work with you on a video, he couldn’t believe it. It had always remained a fantasy, and he feared for a second that someone had ratted him out about his crush on you. ‘Someone’ as in ‘Kim Namjoon’, of course.
Jungkook has spent many hours thinking of different ways to ask you out on a date. Ever since he met you, he’s grown obsessed with you and your personality, charm, beauty, and confidence. When he started to notice you getting shy around him, a small flame of hope lit up inside of him, but why would you be into a guy like him? Yes, he isn’t bad looking, but surely, you’d be more into big, strong, sexual guys, wouldn’t you? Real men who had lots of experience in bed.
On the other hand, Jungkook becomes such a mess every time he’s around you; he drops things, he’s unable to form a coherent sentence, and you never seem to be too interested in talking to him for more than five seconds.
Now, is Jungkook in love with you? Before, he would have denied it, that this was just another crush. But now that he’s so close to you, that he can feel the sweat on your skin, that he’s one with you, he has to ask you out. Otherwise, he’ll never be happy again.
Especially now that the feeling of you straddling his lap and playing with his cock is ingrained in his memory.
“Let me go,” he barks, suddenly remembering that he has a script to follow. “I— I won’t tell anyone if you let me go now.”
You lean into him and stroke his cheek. “Why would I?”
Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you silence any possible reply from him and kiss him hard against the mattress. Your ass ruts against his cock mercilessly, almost by instinct, eager to feel his whines die in your mouth.
Your hands find their way beneath his shirt. With eager fingers, you brush his nipples and, hearing him whimper, keep pinching them as he stirs, fleeing your touch but at the same time seeking it. You chuckle and tease him for it, and Jungkook can only close his eyes with the genuine wish that he won’t come too soon, or at least before you get the footage you want.
You keep humping his clothed cock, now visibly hard and standing proudly against the fabric of his sweats. Between kisses, you tell him how well he’s doing.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” you suddenly say.
Jungkook struggles to peel his eyes open. “W-what deal?”
“If you manage not to cum before me, I’ll let you go,” you continue. “You will be totally free.”
“And— if I do?”
Shit, you forgot about this part. What happened if he came…? You can think of the paragraph and the page, but you really can’t remember the rest of the lines, shit. You totally suck at this—
“I’ll milk your cock dry until you beg me to stop – and only then will I think about it.”
Jungkook stares at you in shock, and for a second, you fear that your impromptu response has gone too far. But then you feel something hard rubbing against your pussy, and you realise that he is unconsciously humping you, twitching and getting bigger and harder.
“You’re fucking nuts,” he cries out.
But you only giggle in response, shoving your hips together as if you were actually riding him. You let out a loud moan, too exaggerated to be true. The constant pressure of your pussy against his crotch makes him arch his back, desperately trying to hold his own whines and grunts to save you the satisfaction of proving you right.
“Look at you! You poor thing,” you exclaim in laughter. “I’m gonna fuck your virgin cock until you pass out.”
Jungkook goes still.
“Oh, thought I didn’t know?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.
“I—”
You bend down and bite on his neck only to soothe the sting with your tongue. “You thought I didn’t know you’ve never been touched before? You’re popular, but women terrify you, don’t they? You see them and only notice their hard nipples through their shirts and their tight pussies peeking from under their short skirts, and that makes you nervous; if they’re nice to you, you’re not interested. If they’re mean, you spend all day imagining them spanking you or sitting on your face… Don’t lie, you’re a sicko who wants a woman to spit in your mouth and fuck your cute little cock. Do you call them mommy in your fantasies? A mean mommy with a fat ass to hump your pathetic dick and huge tits to suck on.”
“S-shut up,” Jungkook cries out. “Shut up, shut up— you have no fucking idea, y-you don’t know shit—”
“I’d show you my tits and you’d come on the spot,” you laugh.
“S-stop lying!”
“Jesus, you’re gonna burst your pants from how hard you’ve got, sweetheart. And I’m nuts? At least I’m not getting hard just because a girl is making fun of me.”
You start bouncing on his crotch, laughing. The constant pressure of your ass against his cock makes him squirm, spilling out an amusing mixture of insults and plaids for mercy. His cheeks are warm with a blush of embarrassment and arousal.
“No wonder no one has ever touched this cute little cock!” you chirp, finally shoving your hand into his pants. “I bet you spend all day locked in your room, watching porn or hentai or whatever losers like you are into. Fucking into your own hand like a bitch in heat. Thank goodness you live alone, because you would live in constant fear of your mom finding your dirty comics or the huge amount of dry jizz all over your plushies and pillows.”
“I— I always clean up after myself,” he whimpers in the sweetest voice possible, and you wonder if he’s actually being honest.
Time to find out. “Yeah? You don’t fuck into your pillow thinking it’s your crush’s wet pussy and leave it full of your cum with the pathetic feeling that you’re filling her up?” you grunt, getting riled up. The thought of Jungkook wanting to do it to someone else makes your blood boil.
“Y-yes!” Jungkook finally cries out. “Shit, shit— I always fuck my pillow thinking it’s you!”
The woman was too stunned to speak.
“Fuck, it— it always leaks out, I’ve always got so much cum saved up for— for you, mommy. I imagine it’s your pussy I’m filling up, want to milk my cock into your cunt until you’re happy.”
The ache between your legs worsens, and you have to rub your thighs together to ease the pent-up arousal; you’re dripping, could simply sit on his pretty cock and ride him until he’s a crying mess – but this has got way out of hand, you need to get the video back on track.
And you shouldn’t think about why he immediately thought of you when you brought up his crush.
You lean on him and spit on his lips, making him yelp. “Yuck.”
“M-mommy, please—”
“Ugh, shut up.”
Raising your hips off him, you take off your panties; indeed, they are ruined and soaked with your juices. Their only use is to gag Jungkook, and there they go, straight into his mouth.
He has to close his eyes when the scent of your arousal reaches his nose.
It takes him a couple of seconds to process that you’re naked now, at least from the waist down. Only your breasts are covered behind the thin white fabric of your tank top. It’s too small, so the sides of your tits stick out, and the neckline is too wide and barely covers your nipples.
Now, his eyes wander down to your pussy; glistening and dripping wet, Jungkook notices the way you rub your thighs together from time to time.
Kneeling over him, you sit on his chest and lift up your shirt, trying not to care that you’re leaving a trail of your juices across his skin. You’re right on top of the camera, and it really looks like Jungkook’s point of view. So, you grab his head and push it between your tits.
“Slow, dummy babies don’t get to suck on mommy’s boobs, darling. Hurry up.”
His eyes locked with yours, Jungkook opens his mouth to suck on your left nipple as you cradle his head. The contact sends shivers down your spine. Still bound to the bed, he struggles to turn his head and reach closer, eager to flicker his tongue around your sensitive nub.
“That’s it, baby, so good,” you groan.
He shifts to your other breast, and you allow him, too hooked on the pleasure to question his intentions.
Jungkook flicks his tongue with eagerness, hunger, almost desperation. His hips buck into the air, and his restrained cock keeps leaking precum, a wet patch appearing on the fabric. He sucks on your nipple like his life depends on it, unhinging his jaw to reach what he can’t touch.
Shit.
You’ve gone off script enough as it is.
You push him away, and he whimpers. “Well done, sweetheart,” you groan, “but mommy has other plans for you.”
Taking off your shirt, you’re now fully naked on top of him. Jungkook’s eyes roam around your figure and drink it up the sight of your bare body on top of him like it is water and he’s dying of thirst.
It’s time for the good shots, so you turn around so that your dripping folds are right in front of the camara – and right on top of his face, but that’s just a little gift for you. You’re facing his crotch, and with eager hands, you pull down his pants and underwear at the same time, letting his big, red, leaking cock spring up against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and your mouth waters just at the thought.
Meanwhile, Jungkook has been struggling with the tempting sigh of your pussy right above his head. It tickles his tongue, makes his lips twitch; he can only think about ravishing your cunt like a madman.
It’s practically instinctive when his neck is stretched upwards. You said you were okay with oral. In fact, you enjoyed it. The script is just something to guide you as to the plot; the rest, it can go as it comes up. That torture you promised him wasn’t scripted either, but it’s made his cock hard as if he was in heat. And, if you don’t like it, you can use the safeword too.
Just a bit more while you keep playing with his cock in your hands.
His tongue is already out, like a dog. That’s pretty much what he feels like right now, desperate to fuck your pussy with his mouth.
Shit, you’re dripping.
“I wonder if you can get even harder,” he hears you ramble.
As you get comfortable on top of him, your hips are getting closer to his reach. Your ankles rest under his forearms, you didn’t notice he could lick you for at least a few seconds.
Jungkook doesn’t stop to think and delves his tongue into your pussy, proceeding quickly to suck and lap at your clit. Your juices soak his face, but that only makes his erection grow. Your clit reacts instantly, throbbing between his lips.
“What the— s-shit, Jungkook, what are you—” you manage to moan.
Your first instinct is to push your legs away, but Jungkook is pressing down with his forearms and, by the time you think of moving your hips away, you’re already melting with pleasure. His tongue is quick to lick your clit over and over, relentlessly, as you thrust back. Using his forearms again, he pulls you by your legs so that you’re practically sitting on his face, bent over him, grunting his name.
Saliva runs down his chin. Your taste on his tongue has shoved him into a thoughtless state, he’s only thinking about making you come. His tongue parts your lips and fucks into your entrance with wet, sloppy strokes.
Jungkook lets out a whimper. “Fuck, as good as I thought it’d be,” he cries out, his voice muffled by your folds. “Mummy got dripping just from playing with me, so fucking m-mean—”
You arch your back and thrust back against his tongue, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach.
He’s got your ankles well locked, and you’re still torn between control and pleasure, so you simply squirm on top of him while Jungkook keeps ravishing your pussy now that you can’t close your legs – nor do you really want to.
But shit, he’s going to make you come if he keeps this up. And, if you do, the deal is off, and the video is over. You’d love to squirt all over his face and force him to drink it up, but you’ve got other plans for him and for you so, as much as you’re loving getting tongue-fucked by this bratty little shit, it’s time to stop him.
“My baby really wanted to lick mummy’s pussy, didn’t he?” you blurt out with a laugh, and his cock twitches, a drop of precum rolling down from his tip.
“W-what?”
“How was your first cunt, sweetheart?” you continue. “Better than your hand, huh? Better than the sad, pathetic hole you make in your stuffed animals to stick your dick in and think it’s me.”
A tear of embarrassment rolls down his cheek. “T-that’s not—”
“Let me return the favour.”
While Jungkook, in a desperate attempt to make you cum, keeps licking and sucking your pussy, you keep yourself decently composed and let a trickle of saliva drip onto his tip. Before he can say anything else, you’re engulfing his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.
“F-fuck!”
You try to fight a wicked smile with his cock around your lips.
Jungkook’s hips twitch, but that only makes the tip of his cock bump into your throat, ripping a sob from him.
You start bobbing your head up and down; he pulls at his restraints, his head turning to his sides as two thick tears of pleasure roll down his cheeks. Guess this probably is his first time being deep-throated, so better ruin it for everybody coming after.
Fortunately, his bratty tongue is too busy crying and moaning to pay any attention to your pussy, so you sit on his chest and get momentum.
His cock feels hot in your mouth, leaking precum. It’s salty as it mixes with your own saliva running down his shaft. Jungkook is sweating all over, his head spinning like he’s having a fever; after all, the wet heat of your mouth around his cock is too much to handle. It’s coated in your spit, sending waves of pleasure down his spine, making his toes curl, his throat sore from grunting and sobbing. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him, the vibrations of your moans only worsening the pleasure pooling in his lower back.
“Fuck!” he cries out again. “Of fuck, p-please—!” Jungkook can’t even properly thrash with his feet as they’re tied to the bed as well. “So good, so fucking good!”
You pull the foreskin back to expose the head and dip your tongue into the slit, savouring the taste of his arousal. For a second, you wonder if he’s never really got proper head or if he’s just very sensitive, but you shove the thought to the back of your head and keep going.
“Got anything to say about that misbehaviour from earlier?” you ask, licking down to the base.
“Dunno—”
“Ah, yes, you do.” Your voice comes out soft, too soft. It sends chills down his back. “You grabbed mommy’s ass and ate her pussy without permission, remember?”
Leaning on his thighs, you manage to turn around to face him. You notice his red face and dilated pupils, and he notices your slick, swollen lips.
To your surprise, Jungkook smirks. “But mommy loved it, didn’t she? I almost made her cum—”
You shut him up by swallowing down his cock again, even if he is right; only a couple of minutes more and you would have come all over his face. But you haven’t, and that’s all that matters. Now you have to make him cum so that you can start torturing his spent cock until he’s crying for you to stop.
Jungkook may be used to keeping it down at his shared flat and know how to be quiet, but you can always tell when a guy is close, and you’re surprised at how much he’s been holding it. From how swollen and purplish his cock looks, how much he’s leaking, and the way it reacts, throbbing and twitching at your touch, he must have been on edge for a while.
“Are you a masochist, perhaps?” you ask, rather to yourself.
Your hands find his base again and start pumping him, both of them. The contact feels kind of dry, though, despite his arousal dripping through your fingers, so you bend down and spit on the head again.
“I wouldn’t be surprised, really,” you continue, jerking him off like it’s just one more chore. “A crazy chick ties you to the bed to fuck you and the first thing you do is get a hard-on. No wonder only your plushies are willing to let you hit it— though they can’t really say anything, can they?”
With a shaky gasp, Jungkook bites his lip and closes his eyes; he needs to stop either seeing or hearing you if he wants to hold on any longer, but your breasts are right in front of him, covered in a glistening layer of sweat, your erect nipples that he just had in his mouth, your pussy radiating heat and dripping down your inner thighs. If only you would sit on his cock and ride him until you cum and scream with pleasure, choke him, spit in his mouth, use him like he uses his poor childhood stuffed animals.
Then this torture would be over, he would climax inside you and stuff you with his cum, til it’s dripping. And the next torture would begin.
“Come on, the last test. If you pass it without cumming, I’ll let you go, okay, sweetheart?”
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts; suddenly, you’re straddling his lap, the tip of his cock brushing against your folds. The brief pleasure, more like a feeling-induced fantasy turned into a touch, makes him shudder and take a deep breath.
“This” – you yank off his shirt, buttons popping out – “off.”
Raking your nails through his hair, you yank it and force him to look at you in silence. His chest heaves and falls as he stares into your eyes.
Your thumb strokes his bottom lip. “It’s a pity that such a pretty face belongs to a pervert like you.”
“I’m not a pervert!”
“Yadda, yadda,” you mock him, tilting up his chin to get access to his jaw and bite him. “Whatever, I have no interest in your pathetic excuses – if you weren’t a pervert, you wouldn’t be hard right now.”
“I-it’s a biological response!” Jungkook insists.
“Hm, yeah, sure. Then you won’t mind if I don’t fuck you, right—? What’s more, you’ll be glad.”
To add weight to your words – and torture him a little in the process – you start moving your hips up and down against his cock, rubbing him with your folds. He twitches between your inner thighs, and you keep circling and undulating your hips over his tip, every now and then pretending you’re going to finally sit on him. His head penetrates you for a second, and you fuck yourself on it, one, two, three thrusts until you decide to press your ass against it.
“Just imagine if I let you fuck my ass,” you laugh. “Just think about it, sweetheart.”
“It’d be s-so tight,” he blurts out, “around my cock! Shit, I wish I could— I wish I could eat your ass, and then your pussy, and then fuck you open with my cock—”
“Fuck—”
You find yourself grinding on his swollen tip, rubbing your clit against his sensitive skin, too turned on by his words; yeah, you’d like him to eat your ass as well. Jungkook is trying to muffle the whimpers coming through his lips, but the pressure is getting heavier.
Moving in a quick thrust, you sit down on his cock. He works you open as it disappears into your body, a moan leaving your lips. Your fingers dig into his shoulders for leverage, hips setting a pace as you bounce on his cock. It massages your inner walls, with sounds of smacking flesh, working thigh muscles as you melt at the shocking waves of pleasure.
“Ngh—” Jungkook lets out a whimper and pulls at the restraints. “Fuck! Oh, fuck—”
Your skin prickles, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. It’s dripping, the ache between your thighs expanding while you chase your climax.
Jungkook pants, head bumping against the headboard, victim to the rolls and thrusts of your hips. Your tits are bouncing right in front of him, their round shape and hardened nipples so, so tempting, making his mouth water while his cock throbs and twitches between your walls. You clench around him, and he whines again. His nerves feel on fire, and the sight of your bare figure fucking yourself on his cock only worsens it.
Your hand slithers to pinch one of your nipples. Playing with it, arching your back, you let out a huff and roll your hips in undulating waves, cunt engulfing him over and over and soiling it with your juices.
You feel his tip bumping against your sweet spot when Jungkook suddenly cries; two thick tears roll down his cheeks, and you bend over to kiss them clean.
“Slow, s-slower, please, go—” he sobs, face red. “Shit! I’m— fucking hell, go slow! G-go slow!”
As he pulls at the restraints in pure desperation, his hips buck into you, jerking and trembling like he’s got no control over them. Jungkook is begging you to slow down, but the blazing way he’s fucking up into you, trying to reach your breasts and suck on your nipples again, wanting to get rid of the restraints so that he can grab your ass and pound into your dripping pussy only fuels him.
“Shut up, little bitch,” you grunt.
Before he can say anything else, you shove your nipple into his mouth and hover over him, your core aching at the wet pressure of his tongue around your hardened buds. You pull at his hair, and his eyes suddenly roll back.
He grows harder inside of you. “Oh fuck, oh, n-no, fuck, stop!” he cries out. “Shit, stop! Slow, slow down—!”
Only when you feel him going still on the mattress and the sweet feeling of hot cum filling you up do you understand he just came inside you.
You keep bouncing on his cock, and Jungkook’s seed eventually gets pumped out of your insides by his own cock. It leaks down your inner thighs and pools on his lower stomach, but you only lean onto him to bite on his neck while he sobs at the painful yet glorious feeling of your pussy milking every last drop of his yummy cum.
“Oh, baby,” you coo with amusement, scratching down his chest, “you just made this so much easier.”
Overstimulation kicks in when you resume bouncing on his spent cock, careful not to let him slide out of your cunt; Jungkook sobs and grunts as he writhes on the bed, pulling the restraints.
You grab his chin and spit into his mouth before you kiss him hard. Your teeth leave small bites on his lips and chin, peppering short kisses to swallow his sobs, embracing him to restrict his squirms. He’s crying so prettily into your lips, you want to eat him up.
“Please, p-please—! Hurts!”
Sucking the flesh of his neck, you let the red mark blossom. “A deal is a deal, sweetheart.”
Deal or no deal, you ride him chasing your climax, sweating and melting into him. Your clit rubs against his pubic bone, and the coiling tension in the pit of your stomach tightens. Jungkook writhes beneath you, and his toes curl in a poor attempt to let out a little of the pleasure that pushes him towards another orgasm. The sight of his cum dripping down your legs mesmerises him, your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.
Fuck, you look so hot right now; he’s going to explode in a heart-shaped puddle of pleasure, he can’t stop the tears either. It’s torture, the best kind, how you’re touching him, stroking his skin, licking down his lips to his sweaty chest, playing with his hair. There’s almost a certain sense of affection in the ways of your hands.
“Please,” Jungkook cries out.
“Fuck,” you moan, closing your eyes. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come~“
Your words make his heart stop for a second. They fuel a fire in his abdomen and raise goosebumps all over his skin, and Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath as the pain starts to mix with the tortuous pleasure.
You keep bouncing on him, ass striking against his hips at a brutal pace. “God! Shit, shit, baby, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”
“Please!” he begs.
The ache between your thighs makes your core tighten, your muscles burn, your sweat is boiling on your skin, dripping down between your breasts.
With one last powerful thrust, the tension snaps, and suddenly you’re bursting out in an explosive orgasm, squirting all over him. You scream out, squishing his cock with your dripping walls, moaning his name and burying your nails in his chest. The shockwaves grip your body, and you ride out your orgasm with slower rolls of your hips.
“Fuck, baby,” you let out in a weak breath, “you made me spill myself all over you.”
When you finally peel your eyes open, you notice Jungkook staring down at the pool of fluid on his lower stomach. His pupils are so dilated that they merge with his irises. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, and his hips are bucking into you subconsciously.
“M-mommy—”
You’re too exhausted to be careful not to drop on top of him and leave a feverish trail of kisses down his neck, holding his face and brushing your lips together, swirling your tongue around his.
“Mommy,” he calls again.
“Yeah…?”
“I’m—” Jungkook lets out a whimper when you shove your hand between his legs. “I’m c-close.”
“Again?” you ask with a hint of mockery in your voice.
He pouts and closes his lips in embarrassment, but the way his cock throbs and twitches as you circle the tip of your index finger on his cock feels too good to stifle his noises. You have such cute hands; he’d die just to see them covered in his cum.
You move down his body in a trail of kisses and nibbles, enjoying the smell of his skin, so warm and intense. The room smells of sex, and it turns you on so much that your mouth salivates.
“Let me take care of you.”
Scooting between his legs, you stroke up and down his Apollo’s belt as he arches his back into the touch, desperate to come. His cock pressed against his tummy, you grab it and spit on it right before dipping your tongue into the slit. Jungkook pants in surprise and squirms and, making eye contact, you part your lips around his cock and swallow around it.
Jungkook whines and tries his best to hold his hips still, but the feeling of being engulfed in your wet heat only engorges the tension in the pit of his stomach. Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, not yet, he chants in his head.
Sucking and bobbing your head on his cock, you enjoy how he responds to your touch; Jungkook is burning all over, writhing, twitching between your lips at the suction.
“Fuck,” he gasps, “y-your mouth—”
You don’t bother to reply and simply hum around his cock, and the vibrations send shivers of pleasure down his spine. His eyes stare at your lips, darkened and wet with saliva so, using hands and lips together, you start sucking his tip with sloppy strokes of your tongue and suction from your lips as your hands play with his balls. Jungkook lets out a breath moan, increasingly agitated and desperate.
Then you slide him out of your mouth, and he stares at you a bit confused – until he sees the way you just hover over him with your mouth wide open above his tip and gets it. Shyly, Jungkook bucks his hips into your wet heat, letting out a muffled moan.
“You— you can’t be for real—” he whines.
You tilt your head in silence, waiting for him to shove his cock into your mouth again.
He starts fucking your mouth with desperate thrusts, hitting the back of your throat. Tears make his vision blurry, and a wave of heat spreads under his skin. He’s half ashamed, half turned on just at the very thought of him having to fuck your face to cum while you stay there, hovering over him with your mouth open. The grip of your tongue around his cock is heavy and wet, you’re so mean to him, just letting him jerk his hips like a bitch in heat.
“I’m gonna— fuck!” Jungkook lets out a grunt and a desperate gasp, fighting the restraints and fleeing your mouth; but you grab his ass again and bury his cock into your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone, and you hollow your cheeks, fucking him between your lips. “C-coming! Slow, s-slow down, I’m— oh fuck, please!” he sobs.
His hips stutter, and suddenly he’s spilling himself into your mouth, dissolving into pleasure with a choked sob and your name on his lips. It’s bitter, but Jungkook’s contracted face, with two thick tears soaking down to the corners of his lips, and red cheeks makes it all worthwhile.
You help him ride out his climax with your hand wrapped around his cum-stained cock, but soon Jungkook is writhing beneath you and bursting out in tears of actual pain, and you let go of him.
Lying eye to eye, he watches you lean onto him and open up your mouth; a pool of cum rests on your tongue, and he doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth and lets you kiss it back into the source system, massaging your tongues together and rolling them over each other. A drop of white cum rolls down the corner of his mouth, but you’re both too busy making out naked on top of each other to care about it.
“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, sweetheart,” you whisper.
After a pause, you get up and reach the camera to turn it off; suddenly Jungkook snaps out of something like a dream, and he remembers that you’re actually working. A feeling of shame and sadness washes over him, and he's so exhausted both mentally and physically that he feels the urge to cry.
“Okay, I turned it off.” You rush to undo the restraints on his wrists and massage the red marks with your thumbs to get the blood circulating again. “Does it hurt? I’ll get you something for the marks.”
In a thoughtful silence, he shakes his head.
“Good.”
You turn around and lean on his legs to undo the knots of his ankles as well, and Jungkook closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His heart is still trying to burst his ribcage open and get out of his chest, and now that the frenzy of the video is over, a dread falls over him; what is he going to do about you now?
“Uh, Y/N?” he asks, unsure.
Smiling, you look up at him with the rope in your hands. “Yes?”
Courage.
“Can I… take you out to dinner some day?”
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“Don’t laugh!” you exclaim, laughing. With a napkin, you wipe away the milkshake foam that stains your chin and the corners of your lips. “It’s not funny, you should have told me earlier. I’m sure everyone has noticed.”
The terrace where you are sitting is practically deserted except for a few tourists and a couple of birds circling over your food. With the sun shining brightly above you, you prop yourself up on your elbows as your tummy aches from laughing so hard, and Jungkook glances at the menu with a growing smile.
“I didn’t know you cared so much about the opinion of three people and seven birds,” he jokes.
“Hey, it’s eight birds, sweetheart. And the tourists are carrying a camera,” you insist, grabbing the menu from him with a playful frown, “what if I come out in the background looking like Father Christmas? I’d never get over it.”
“Then Father Christmas had a glow-up – when he was a kid, he’d just eat the biscuits and leave. Anyway, should we order to share or is it every man for himself?”
“We’d better share, I want to try it all,” you murmur as you take a sip from your drink.
Jungkook frowns. “You’ll get a tummy ache like last time.”
“You don’t have to remind me!” With a giggle, he takes the menu again. “It was so embarrassing, on our first date on top of that.”
He scoops to the other side of the table and steals a kiss from you, letting you cup his face and deepen the contact. “Okay, just order anything you want,” he says, sliding the menu back to you. “I’ll eat what you can’t fit in your tummy.”
You thank him with a short peck on the lips, and Jungkook returns to his seat.
“Oh, by the way,” you say casually, stirring your milkshake with your straw, “I have some good news and some bad news, which one do you want first?”
He frowns. “Well... The bad one, I guess?”
“The bad news is that I can’t use the video we made because you can hear us saying each other’s names. The good news is that it means we can make it again.”
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Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3
“Sideshow” is copyright ²⁰²³ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.
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kyeomyun · 3 months
Text
2:01 AM
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pairings: dad!jeonghan x gn!reader
genre: FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF :((
warnings: none... you might lowkey go through baby fever :)
word count: 0.8k
synopsis: jeonghan would do literally anything to stop his baby from crying, even if it included being dolled up.
::note: WELL- yes ik now those jewels on jeonghan hair are indeed stickers and not hairclips but YK WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. also hello strangers :). it's been a fat minute since I have actually written something down so if this seems a little dry... just know I haven't written anything since august 🧍🏾‍♀️but i do hope you enjoy this absolute brain rot I wrote last night at 2 in the morning 😍
network(s): @kflixnet
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If there was one thing Jeonghan absolutely despised, with his whole entire being, it would be seeing someone who he holds, oh so dearly to his heart, cry.
He knows crying is a trigger for intense emotion, don't get him wrong, he knows very well it was common with toddlers. Including his. But that does not eliminate the huge tear he feels in his chest when the salty crystalline drops roll down his wife or his daughter's cheeks.
And he would do about everything (except cook the pot roast dinner that you LOVE that takes almost 5 hours to make and Jeonghan could not, for the life of him, stand on his two increasingly aging feet for more than 2), to make his loved ones stop crying. Even if that included doing something he thought he would not fit..
"Almost done, darling?" Jeonghan asked softly, careful not to make the tire of his voice get the best of his tone.
It was 2 AM, and his daughter, Yoon, had a rude awakening with cold sweat and vivid memories of a nightmare that she did not want have the guts to relive with her father. Which the father could understand, reliving a nightmare is not fun at all and he did not want to force that scenario onto his precious girl.
"Nu-uh," She clipped another hair clip onto Jeonghan long hair, humming in approval watching her masterpiece come to life in front of her eyes. "You said I can put a lot, daddy!" She pouted, hands flowing through the overload of bows: baby pinks, baby blues, even ones with sparkles and stars dazzled upon the long strands of freshly washed hair. Messy? Yes. Did Jeonghan care? Just a little tiny bit. "I have to make you really, really, really, pretty!"
"I did say that, did I?" Jeonghan said that more to himself, his words playing back on him tremendously. His eyes were drooping, fighting back the wondrous dreamland he was in before he was awoken by a frightened 4 year old. As much as his body wanted to shut down, his mind was stuck on one thing and one thing only.
Well maybe 2.
How long will it take to take these hairclips out and how is his miniature him doing?
"Mhm!" She clipped glittery pink hairclip on a randomly selected portion of her father's hair. "But at least daddy will look extra, extra pretty!"
Jeonghan butt was staring to numb, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter's room criss-crossed and Yoon standing up behind him with the next 2 hairclips awaiting their home on his head. But his heart filled rapidly, an intense feeling he has always had at moments like these. Ever since Yoon was born, this feeling was almost... unexplainable. Too immense to be just happiness and too extreme to be just love. It could be a mix of both but those 2 words are just not enough. No words could ever be.
Oh, he is down bad...
The smile that stretched upon his poorly chapped lips was one worth describing though; a smile that held so much value, love, adoration, did he think love?
"One more, daddy!" Yoon announced enthusiastically, a pretty baby blue butterfly, clipped on a strand near the front of Jeonghan head. A small giggle was heard as the little girl admired her work, grabbing ahold of the mirror and giving it to her pretty caregiver. "Is it pretty?"
Jeonghan took the mirror, its weight light but enough to slightly tilt his hand a bit. This motion was able to show the awaiting face of his daughter, who too stared into the mirror and tried to read her father's face. But he obviously had his answer.
But he still pretended to contemplate, his pointer finger tapping his chin in wonder. "It's not pretty,"
That cute pout adorned her lips again, her fragile heart clenching painfully. "You... don't like it? I thought–"
"It's beautiful, baby," Jeonghan looked behind him, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could match the cuteness of seeing his other half, his small angel, puffy cheeks bunch with joy. A smile that could kill many, Jeonghan being one of millions. Billions.
"Yay!" The excitement was barely contained in her small body, slightly bouncing in her place she stood in for almost 30 minutes before her stubby arms wrapped around the neck of her father. "Do you think uncles will be jealous?"
"Very," Jeonghan stared back in the mirror, his smiling bundle of joy warming his heart to the greatest. "Very, very jealous."
A kiss was planted on his cheek, and now he was conflicted about what his members will actually be jealous about.
His marvelous creation on his head, hairclips and bows that were placed in no particular pattern, or the creator, that shined her crooked teeth and eyes shining just as bright as she went back to slightly messing with the butterfly hairclip that hung just barely in his peripheral.
Ok, definitely the creator.
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did you enjoy your order?
if you did, please reblog, like, (pls) comment, all of that jazz :>
have a good day, sweets ^^
tagging: @wheeboo @etherealyoungk @rubywonu @trblsvt @icyminghao @idubiluv @odxrilove @stormyjisung @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @gyu-effect @hannieheartuu @jaehunnyy @luvhyun3 @lvlystars @mesanthropi
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mins-fins · 1 month
Text
119
&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.
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pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader
genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff
warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚
word count: 1.2k
notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33
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you are going to murder na jaemin.
the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.
maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.
jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.
"are you alright?"
you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.
"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".
jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"
you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".
fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—
your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".
jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"
you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".
jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.
but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.
if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.
that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.
when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.
"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".
you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"
"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"
you choke on your spit.
"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"
soooo natural, y/n.
jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".
you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?
"is this your way of asking me out?"
you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.
jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"
you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.
"are you serious?"
jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.
you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"
"well to be fair—"
"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"
"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"
you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.
"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."
"can i kiss you?"
the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.
you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.
"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"
you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.
though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.
you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.
but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.
and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).
"was that romantic enough for you?"
even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.
he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.
and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.
jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.
"so what happened up there?"
"clearly they got it on".
upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.
jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.
for once, one of his ploys finally worked.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months
Text
Practice On Me — Bonus Part — Fin x Reader.
Summary: A reimagining of how things would have gone if Reader had decided she wanted Fin — despite him being her friend’s father.
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: Heavy on the smut. 18+, minors dni. Some jealous and possessiveness. Mentions of forbidden relationships/affairs. If the choices Reader makes in this are something you’re against, I urge you not to read! 🫶🏻
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Rita’s is like no other place you’ve been — or seen — before.
Is this what you’ve missed out on, trapped within the frozen maw of Windhaven? There is no place like this there, of such vibrancy and euphoria. The music, the coloured faelights, the energy — it all makes you feel…on top of the world.
Like there’s life outside the misery you’ve known.
Mor knocks a shot back, grimacing as she slams the empty glass onto the bar. A sudden burst of giggles leaves her as she says, “My father would have my head if he could see me right now. Literally.”
You don’t doubt that for a second, because Mor looks resplendent, not just in her natural beauty, but her joy. She has danced and drank and kissed and danced some more. And seeing her like this…it makes you glad that she convinced you to come out with her tonight.
“My father would have my head, too,” you tell her over the music. “I’m surprised he hasn’t already.”
At that, she rolls her eyes, and she reaches for two more shots. “Here’s to saying fuck the males,” she knocks her glass against yours. “May they all perish.”
You’ll happily drink to that. With the alcohol that has you in its grip, you’re buzzed on thoughts of storming back to Windhaven and confronting all your demons. Confronting anyone and everyone who has ever hurt you and made you feel less than you are. Your father. Lord Devlon. Azriel—
You banish that thought as the liquid slides down your throat with a satisfying burn. You are in Velaris, not Windhaven. A new place with new people, where anything feels possible. The thought is heady and dizzying.
Someone calls Mor’s name, and she glances over her shoulder, her beautiful eyes lighting up again. You truly don’t know how often she’s able to escape the Hewn City and get away to Velaris, but judging by the amount of friends she’s introduced you to tonight, she’s certainly made her mark here.
“Let’s go dance with them!” Mor yells over the music, grabbing your hand.
You think that dancing might be the answer to everything you’ve never known, and so you gladly follow; gladly throw yourself into the thrall of the busy floor.
But that’s when you see him.
Something…some deep power…compels you to look up. Coaxes your eyes to that area a level above, where the city’s VIP guests spend copious amounts of money on copious amounts of alcohol and drink it from their cushy velvet booths. They’re reserved for associates of the High Lord, a not-so-formal place to meet to discuss not-so-casual things.
But none of that matters. There could be an entire circus up there right now, and still all you would notice is — him.
He notices you, too.
The High Lord’s eyes zero in on you from up above. You watch, rooted to the spot, as he takes in the sight of you, from your braided back hair, to your painted face, your dress and the legs exposed by them. He looks like…like he’s finally setting his sights upon an image that was merely fantasy up until now.
He braces his arms on the balustrade. And he just stares.
You want to know what he’s doing here. Whether he’s at Rita’s for business or…or for pleasure. You’ve heard that there are rooms upstairs for people willing to pay the price. Perhaps there’s a lover up there with him somewhere, waiting to explore every last inch of that glorious, sculpted body—
The bleating jealousy that makes your heart twist is…unexpected. And not ideal; not one bit.
He is Rhysand’s father. Things may have been fucked up royally with Azriel, and you may have been burned by the experience — but Fin is Rhysand’s father.
Your friend’s father.
Your friend’s father who has just so happened to help keep you feeling alive these past weeks. With his layers-deep allure, the sweet, sweet words that roll off his tongue. His hospitality, his generosity. His kindness. All of it, you’d attributed to him being a natural charmer, a High Lord who knows precisely what to say, what to do.
It strikes you in that moment — just how much it’s all sunk its way into your bones and made you feel…dangerous.
He watches you like a cat with a mouse. Watches as somebody grabs your hand and yanks you into the tightly knit dancing bodies. The music pulses through you from head to toe, a frenzied tune of strings and keys that somehow come together to create the feeling of being borne aloft. Being on top of the world.
As you become lost to the sensation of dance, you’re glad to forget all your thoughts about Fin. You don’t want to wonder what he’s doing here. You don’t want to imagine what those strong, rough hands might get up to, where they might venture.
You become sandwiched between two males who dance with you in a way that makes you forget your wings were ever stolen. They touch you and touch each other, and you welcome it all, happy to be someone, somewhere, else. At least for a while.
But there’s suddenly a foreign touch to your shoulder. That of a cold, meaty hand that stills your movements and draws your attention. The two males happily slink away and begin grinding on each other, and you spin on the spot to find a tall, stocky male who looks like he punches people in the face for the hell of it.
“Y/N?” He checks, and you nod. “The High Lord wishes to speak with you. Upstairs.”
You glance over your shoulder, eyes searching for Mor and finding her just as she’s following a male and female to a cloaked-off area at the back. That’ll be her occupied for the remainder of the night. You’re officially going solo.
But not for long. Not as the bouncer juts his chin in the direction of the staircase and begins to lead you there. Perhaps it makes you a fool, but you follow without a word.
He pulls back a rope and gestures for you to go on up, and then he’s refastening it behind you and turning back to train a keen eye on the dance floor. It’s purely the alcohol that hits you with enough of an ego to climb those stairs like you belong amongst the chandeliers and velvet booths.
But you look good — amazing, even. You know you do. And looking like this, things like scars and other insecurities seem so trivial. You’ve taken back the right to feel as beautiful as you are. You wear your Illyrian features proudly, and you’re pretty and lithe and graceful—
And your heel catches on the top step of the staircase, almost sending you sprawling to the floor — if not for the warm hand that catches your elbow.
“Easy.” Fin rasps into your ear, setting you steady on your feet.
Your numbed, inebriated senses are not immune to the effect of his voice, it would seem. The deep baritone, rough as jagged rock, pushes its way into your skin, your veins, and spreads far faster than any alcohol could.
“Pardon me, my Lord,” you answer, and you’re unable to shove down the hysterical giggle that claws up your throat. “Fuck, you’re the High Lord.”
He cocks a dark eyebrow. “And you are drunk.”
“The whiskey they serve here is immense.”
“I’ll be sure to extend your compliments to Rita herself.”
Is that, you wonder, who he’s up here meeting? Perhaps the elusive Rita is a close associate of his. Perhaps they do deals in both business and pleasure.
And taking in your fill of the High Lord right now, in a dark button-up shirt and fitted breeches of a slate grey, you would not blame Rita one little bit.
Gods, he’s exquisite. Rhysand may resemble Roza more than he does Fin, but…with two parents of such stunning beauty, it’s no wonder your friend is as handsome as he is.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you make no secret of the way your eyes linger on him. Tonight is dangerous, and you’re enjoying it.
“Nor I, you,” he narrows his gaze down at you. “Imagine my surprise, considering that when I left the palace earlier this evening, you were curled up in the library with a book. And yet, here you are. Wearing…” mahogany eyes take in the short cut of your dress, “…that.”
“Mor surprised me with a visit.”
“My niece ought to be more careful not to press her father’s buttons too much,” a muscle in his chiselled jaw ticks. “And I think you ought to be more careful not to push mine.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” Bold. So foolishly bold of you. You’ll regret it once sober, you’re sure. “Was there a particular reason you summoned me up here, my Lord? I was rather enjoying dancing.”
“I noticed. And I’m taking you home.”
“What—”
Before you can even finish the word, Fin’s gripping your elbow again, and darkness sweeps you away.
Being winnowed while drunk is not a fun experience.
You feel the cosmic, air-light step from one place to another. Your stomach lurches, your head spinning. You can barely get a hold of yourself as you cling to Fin and prepare your feet to touch solid ground.
And then the darkness is gone, and you’re back in the toasty, warm glow of the palace’s library. Your knees buckle, trying to drag you to the floor, but Fin keeps you upright.
“What the…” you gawp up at him. “Why did you bring me home?”
He ensures you’re able to stand on your feet before pushing away from you. Doesn’t even look at you as he commands, “Get to bed.”
“I was enjoying myself.”
“Just as those males were enjoying you, too. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it off. Get to bed.”
He strides towards the door, his knuckles white from how hard he grips the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side. But sword or no, you refuse to give up so easily.
“No,” you say simply. “I will not.”
Fin stops. Goes still. And then he turns back to you.
His temper is clear on his face, but he doesn’t storm back over like you’re half expecting him to. Instead, his eyes shutter, and he seems to take a deep, soothing breath. When he’s looking at you once more, he flicks his wrist in your direction.
And immediately, gone is the haze of the alcohol.
Immediately, you’re completely lucid, completely steady on your feet. Not a lick of inebriation remains, as if you had, indeed, slept it off.
“Did you just sober me up?” you’re outraged by the mere idea.
“Yes.” Fin admits shamelessly. “Now you won’t fall victim to a hangover in the morning — a favour from me, to you, and I ask you in return to get to bed. And don’t even think about trying to venture back out. I’ll know.”
Your blood boils. And the anger isn’t simply because of your ruined fun, but because…because it stings, the way Fin is treating you with such contempt. Scolding you like you’re little more than a petulant child. He’s been nothing but wonderful since you came to Velaris, and yet now, he speaks to you like…like most of the males back in Windhaven do.
It makes you see red.
“What right have you to dictate how I spend my evening?” you snap. ��I was under the impression that my free time is my own, and if I wish to go and get drunk and dance like a fool, that is up to me.”
Cold, beautiful anger hardens Fin’s face. He stalks closer, squeezing the hilt of that sword so, so tightly. “What right have I? This is my home. My city. My court. I am your High Lord, and you choose to behave in such a way when I’ve opened my home to you and offered you refuge? When I’ve given you a place to run to and left my resources at your disposal?”
You rock back on the heels of your feet, staring at him. Every word lands a hit — as good as if he’d nocked them in a bow and fired them right at your heart. It stings. Gods, it stings. You want the careless oblivion of the alcohol back.
Because you grapple daily with the pain, the anxiety, of feeling unwanted. And you…you had begun to think that Fin actually cared for you. Actually enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.
You’d begun to care about his thoughts and feelings where you were concerned. And begun to believe that it wasn’t just the hospitality and courtesy that he would dole out to any runt on the street.
His eyes seem to track the way your expression changes, your shoulders slump. You swallow. The anger is replaced, simply, by hurt.
“If I am a burden, my Lord, I apologise,” you rasp. “I don’t intend to be one. I appreciate your generosity, and I…I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”
You hope you can keep your tears at bay long enough to escape to your room. You’re pelted with shame, embarrassment, hurt. You step forward and hurry past the High Lord, desperate to book it out of there, to get to bed.
But his hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you to a stop. And he says, quietly, “wait.”
That hand on your wrist holds the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
You pin your gaze to the ground, unable to look at Fin. You hear him swallow.
“That isn’t—” his voice is gravelly. “I didn’t mean that.”
You don’t think you can speak. You remain a statue beneath his touch.
But so gently — such a contrast to the whirlwind of his actions before — he’s walking you backwards. Slow and careful. You feel your back hit the wall, and he lets go of your wrist and seems to curl his fists at his sides. There’s a desperation to the action that only then coaxes you to look up at him.
His expression is…pleading. For what, you’re not sure.
“You are the furthest thing from a burden,” he says, quietly, on an exhale. “Your presence here is very much welcomed, I assure you.”
You don’t dare breathe a word. Every last bit of your very sober courage is being thrown into maintaining eye contact. There’s none to spare for speaking.
But your lack of response seems to trouble Fin. His eyes rake over your face, searching for something. He swallows again.
And then his eyes shutter, and he whispers, “Mother above, what are you doing to me?”
You don’t know how to answer him — whether he’s even talking to you at all. He takes in a very slow, very deep breath, as though it’s the only thing that’s stopping him from…doing something. What, you’re not sure.
But you can feel it, sense it — the ferocity with which he’s swallowing down words and holding himself back. Like he wants so badly to say something, but can’t.
His eyes open, clearer than they were seconds before, and he says in a far gentler tone, “Get to bed, Y/N,” he inclines his head. “Sleep well.”
With tense, squared shoulders, he turns — and it’s you, this time, that stops him. You halt him with a hand on his arm, and you could swear you feel the muscles flex under his touch.
“Wait,” you say, not ready to let him go, not prepared to leave things between you like this. “Stay and talk with me for a while.”
His jaw clenches like he’s gritting his teeth. “That isn’t a good idea.”
“Why? We talk all the time, you and I. And there are clearly things you’re holding back from saying—”
Your words are cut short as he suddenly meets your gaze with the intensity of a blazing fire. You think it might burn you. You hope it will.
“It’s a bad idea,” he grounds out, gutturally, “not because of what I want to say. But because of what I want to do.”
“What—”
“You are my son’s close friend. You are Roza’s guest,” he tugs his arm out from under your hand. “You are far younger than I am. I am trying my hardest — I have been trying my hardest — to be a good male. And right now, a good male would take his leave and go to bed, so I bid you goodnight, Y/N.”
“Fin—”
“I hope you sleep well.”
“Fin,” you grab for him again. “What if I don’t want you to be a good male?”
Beneath your touch, he stops. Goes preternaturally still.
Words punch out of you with terrifying gall — and truth. “What if I want you to do those things—”
Quick as a flash, he’s pivoting, and he has the upper hand. Has you pressed so tightly up against the wall, his body boxing you in.
And gods, the feel of it might set you on fire. A brush of your hands, a kiss on the backs of your fingers — they’re nothing compared to the weight and press of his muscles against your body. You want your clothes to melt away, and his, too. You want your hands on his bare, hot skin.
“I don’t think you realise what you’re saying,” he growls.
“I do,” you breathe. “I am completely sober. Completely clear of mind. And I am telling you, Fin, I want you—”
A strangled noise is the only warning you get before the High Lord’s mouth is on yours.
The kiss is pure power. It passes from him, into you, roils through your veins and makes you feel like somebody remarkable. It’s the cloak of darkness and the kiss of sin. Of somebody capable of very, very bad things.
And it’s immediately addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to get enough.
You claw at his shirt, tugging him closer, closer, and his broad hands cup your face as his mouth devours yours.
This kiss…it’s been building. The need for it has been working its way beneath your skin for a while. All the heated glances, the late-night conversations. All the thoughts, in the dead of night, of what Fin might be doing in his own bed. Wondering whether he was thinking of you.
It’s so, so forbidden. So wrong. But it feels so godsdamn right.
And the way Fin’s tongue slides between your lips and strokes into your mouth — it tells you that he feels it, too.
Your hands glide from his waist, round to his back, and you yank him harder against you. So desperate are you to feel him. Feel what you think you do to him.
He makes another low noise. And then he’s tearing his mouth from yours. But he lingers close, your foreheads touching.
“Better than I’ve been imagining,” he pants, his hands still clutching your face. “Much better.”
“You’ve imagined kissing me?” You know he has.
“I have imagined,” his thumbs sweep your cheeks, “doing all sorts of things with you, Y/N. Things that would make even the most salacious of a person blush.”
Such a relief — to know that it’s not all just some wild fantasy you’ve cooked up in your mind. That you’re not just some wayward, longing young female who craves the affections of an older male to patch her deep wounds.
No, it’s not that. It’s desire. It’s need. And it burns inside your veins until you think you might erupt into flames.
“I’ve imagined them, too,” you say, without a lick of shame.
Once again, his eyes are shuttering. Once again, he takes that slow, steadying breath. And as you watch him do so, you can’t bear the thought of him still grappling with right and wrong. You can’t bear the thought of him squaring his shoulders and walking out of here, leaving your lips bruised, your body aching, your heart hurting. You can’t bear it—
“I want you to do those things,” you lift your chin, gaze unflinching. “I want you to touch me.”
Fin’s eyes reopen.
He stares at you.
His throat bobs.
You have never seen somebody look so wild, so ravenous. There is heat everywhere, in his stare and in his taut body. His eyes flick down to your lips.
That mere glance at them is the deciding factor, it would seem.
He growls, the sound not at all one you’ve ever heard from a person, and he yanks you up into his arms and kisses you again.
So naturally, your arms twine around his neck, your legs locking around his waist. You can feel the strength of him against you, in the way he holds you. You can taste his crackling power.
He doesn’t falter in the kiss nor his steps as he carries you away from the wall, and you’re suddenly being placed down on the library’s desk, sending books and parchment and pens and ink pots flying. They all clatter loudly to the floor, and neither of you care.
But Fin does pull away to look at you, and there’s wicked, boyish charm in his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up. He merely says, “Oops.”
You surge up and kiss him again.
He sighs into it, like your mouth is the answer to all his questions. And when heated hands land on your thighs, you part them, allow him to slot his body in between. The mere feel of it has you pushing up against him, finding him hard—
But again, he pulls away. He scans your face and rasps, “Tell me you’re sure.”
You do not balk from his intensity. From the fact that this is the fucking High Lord of your court, who was changing this world and building a reputation long before you were a mere thought in your parents’ minds. You do not balk from the fact that there are a million different reasons that this is wrong.
You think only about the fact that it feels right.
And that translates into your voice as you say, firmly, “I’m sure.”
You think you see the words course through his body. They change something — forever.
“This isn’t about Roza,” he breathes — breathes heavily, like it’s taking everything to tamp down on the desire to devour you then and there. To say what needs to be said.
You shake your head, “No.”
“Nor is it about Rhysand.”
“No.”
“It’s about me and you.” He destroys what little gap exists between your bodies, his hardness pushing through his breeches, right up against your centre. His hands brace on the desk, either side of you. “And gods, I want you, Y/N. I want you so much, I can scarcely bear it.”
“Have me,” is all you manage — before he strikes.
You think, hope, that his mouth might find yours again — but he’s barely brushing it before his lips settle on your jaw. His hands travel up your legs, fingers biting into the flesh. They find your hips, thumbs delivering explorative sweeps. They tug your dress up as they climb, exposing more of you to the warmth of the room. Exposing more skin that you know he wants to lay claim to.
And when the hem of your dress is ruched around your waist, you smile — at your little wildcard exposed. That he finds no underwear hiding what sits between your legs.
Your choice to forgo a pair seems almost foretelling, now — like some part of you knew the night would end like this, and you wanted to be ready.
Fin’s eyes dip to your slick, exposed cunt. The hunger in them is almost intimidating. You open your legs just a little wider—
But his rough hand is gripping your chin, almost hard enough to hurt. And he snarls deeply, “It drove me to madness — seeing those two males dancing with you. Touching you.”
Pleasure bolts down your spine, and from the way his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your arousal is consuming him.
“Did it?” you stare back at him, welcoming the discomfort of his brutal grip.
“I wanted them dead. I wanted to draw my sword and gut them for even looking your way. For touching what I want to be mine.”
That pleasure again — skittering over your skin. His words do something to you. You bite down on a moan.
“It is yours,” you tilt your chin up to him, smiling when he immediately glances to your lips. “Take it.”
“I warn you,” he lowers his face to yours, “I don’t like to share.”
“And I warn you, High Lord,” you watch as your words land, drawing a deep, raw scent from him. “Neither do I.”
With a growl, he snaps. The kiss he gives you is not slow or sweet. His hand continues to grip your face, and his mouth attacks yours, his tongue sliding between your lips. You can’t help your moan, this time, as his taste overpowers you — a taste that you can only describe as pure thunder.
But it ends too soon, as he begins to leave a trail of heated kisses and bites and sucks along your jaw, down your neck, your collarbones. Your head falls back, and the touches are like little zips of lightning — lightning cleaving through the night sky.
“Pretty dress,” he hums against your skin — and that’s all the warning you get before that dress is ripped apart. Torn to ribbons.
No part of you is left to Fin’s imagination.
He tears his mouth from you and steps back to drink you in.
Instinct roars at you to curl in on yourself and hide. To remember that you are scarred, and flawed, and not to the liking of many — including yourself, a lot of the time.
But something about Fin’s weighty, scorching stare stops you from moving a muscle.
You lift your chin and hide nothing as he takes his fill. His eyes travel a journey from the top of your head and down — down your face, your neck, your breasts. Down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Down to that fine dusting of hair on your pelvis that tracks a thin path to—
Fin drops to his knees with a low noise. His hands wrap around your legs and prise them further apart.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he levels his face with the very centre of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight.
The sight of the High Lord on his knees before you — on his knees for you.
As though he senses the direction of your thoughts, his eyes flick up, and he smiles.
And then he dives in.
His tongue wastes no time in sinking between your folds, licking a broad stripe right up the centre of you. At the first stroke, your head falls back, your arms wobbling where they’re braced on the desk.
“Look at me,” Fin growls. “Only me.”
His voice of pure High Lord power drags your eyes back to him. And thank the fucking Mother it does.
You see everything in the way he feasts on you. His tongue laps at your wetness, and it coats his lips, his chin, coats him in you. The damp heat of his tongue is liquid fire. It promises to scorch you, end you, and rise you anew like a phoenix from the ashes.
Your fingers sink into the strands of Fin’s hair and tug. Judging by the noise he makes, the way his pace picks up, you think he likes it.
He utterly fucking devours you, like he’s fought a centuries-long wait to do so. And whatever magic commands his mouth — you know you cannot possibly last against it.
“Oh, gods,” your moan breaks from you, hips bucking up. You think your voice might be loud, but you don’t care. “Fuck—Fin.”
It all happens at once — his name falling from your lips, the growl rumbling in his throat, the flicking of his tongue against your clit and the finger he plunges into you, curls inside you. Every part of it is lightning strikes to your veins, and you come apart, utterly break.
Your climax slams into you and steals your breath. You’re nothing but a gasping, panting, trembling shell. Your mind is somewhere else entirely.
With your head falling back, eyes pinned to the ceiling, chest heaving, you don’t catch the swiftness with which Fin stands, licking your wetness from his lips. With which his clothes are gone in a blink of an eye.
But then he commands, “Look at me.”
It’s the second time he’s said it. Your head lolls forward once more.
You swallow the breaths you’re still trying to get down. Try to stop your body fucking shaking.
But it’s no wonder it does, as you look at him.
Your High Lord is nothing short of exquisite. He is art. Your fantasies have done him no justice.
That golden skin of his seems to attract the glowing light of the room. It bathes him, but it does not steal the attention. It outlines every fine plane of his body, the sculpted muscles on show, the nicks of injuries that have scarred and silvered over time.
There is not a single part of him that isn’t pure, refined power. And when your gaze drops to below his waist…a shudder wracks through you.
His cock stands hard and leaking at the head. You watch, your mouth watering, as he wraps a hand around its length and gives a long stroke.
“Fin—”
“When you look at me like that,” he prowls closer, “there is no way I can consider this forbidden.”
He’s within reach. Your fingers inch towards him. You want to touch him, taste him—
But he curls a hand around yours and stops you in your tracks.
“Not tonight,” he says. Pure promise is laced within the words. “No playing tonight.”
As if he hadn’t just played with you. You want to protest, to get your fucking mouth around that considerable length, but his hand tightens around yours.
And then he’s flipping you over, so fast that you don’t have time to even register it. You land on your front, your belly and breasts pressed against the desk. Fin lays his palm against your back and drags it slowly down. And in the wake of his touch, he leaves kisses. Kisses to your shoulder, your back. They’re…soft. Tender.
“Have I disappointed you?” he murmurs against your shoulder, folding his body over yours. You don’t think it’s an accident that the head of his cock nudges that sweet area between your legs.
It’s all you can do to breathe, “I wanted to taste you.”
“And you will,” he drops the brush of a kiss to your skin. “But now is not time for that.”
You don’t need him to tell you what now is the time for. Not as his hands find the flesh of your hips, and he yanks you to the very edge of the desk, moving with you. The feel of him so close to where you want him is downright cruel.
“Have you thought about me fucking you?” he asks, those hands travelling to rove your ass.
Your nails bite into the desk as you answer, “Yes.”
“Did I make you scream?”
You bite down on your lip at the feeling of him spreading you apart, opening you up to him. “Yes.”
You feel it — his cock sliding between your folds. Not pushing in, but dragging torturously against your sex. From your entrance, up to your clit. The head of his cock pushes against it.
And the moan that rips from you is downright filth, as he rolls his hips and allows your wetness to slicken his length. It feels so fucking good. To you, and to him.
A breath shudders out of him, and he purrs, “Are you going to scream for me now?”
“Fuck yes,” the words tumble from your lips. “I want you, Fin.”
Just like that, his restraint snaps. The High Lord strikes.
He drags his length through your folds and enters you with a single, powerful thrust.
A shout leaves you, and you’re clawing at the desk, trying to keep your grip against the pleasure that courses through you. Fin fills you and stretches you. He pulls out and slams back in to the hilt.
“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he growls, his hands sinking back into your hips. He begins a steady thrusting, sliding in and out of you with a drag that makes you feel every glorious inch of him. “Gods.”
“So good,” you pant. “Want you harder.”
The plea seems to make him groan, and he wastes no time in picking up the pace. His hands bite into your skin as he fucks you faster, harder, your moans and pleas and curses falling from your lips without any nudging from you. The pleasure is all-consuming. In seconds, it’s buried within your veins.
“You like that?” The grit in his voice has you clenching around him. He’s so fucking filthy, so fucking sultry, as he snarls, “you going to be a good girl and come for me?”
Gods, yes, you are. Already, release is coiling tightly within you, and it’s a force entirely of its own right, inching closer and cresting the hill, ready to sink its claws into you. Fin’s cock hits deep, and out of nowhere, his palm is flying through the air and making contact with your ass cheek. That is all it takes.
The pleasure of it all is too much — the sting of the slap, the depth and thrall of his thrusts, the way he growls and grunts as he lays claim to your body, your pleasure.
You cry out, your orgasm blasting through you with unstoppable force. The long strokes of Fin’s cock fuck you through it, through earth-shattering pleasure, through what feels like a mind-altering experience.
“My filthy girl,” he pulls out of you suddenly, and though your cunt still clenches and twitches, desperate for more, more, more, he flips your trembling body onto its back once more and tugs you up, slipping back between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how relentlessly I’ve thought about making you scream for me like that.”
Past words, you can only reach up and pull his head down to yours to capture him in a kiss. Your taste still coats the tongue that he slides between your lips. It spurs you on to deepen it, luxuriate in the feel of it. And you become so lost in it that you tug hard at the strands of his hair when he enters you again in one great, sweeping thrust.
His arm folds around your back, hand grasping at your shoulder, and it seems to afford him perfect purchase to pound into you. Sounds fill the air of his skin slapping against yours, of the breaths and moans you huff into each other’s mouths. You think the two of you, together, might be loud enough, forceful enough, to bring the City of Starlight to rubble around you.
Fin’s lips tear away from yours, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts are growing quicker, sloppier, reaching a feverous pinnacle that will surely break.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come, Y/N,” his sweat-slick brow presses against your neck. “Taking me so well like this. Squeezing me like this. You’re going to make me fucking blow.”
You want that — more than anything. To feel the power of him spilling into you.
You squeeze your thighs against his, dragging your free hand — the one not sunken in his hair — down the muscles of his shoulders, his back, his waist — to his ass, where you dig your nails into the tight, toned flesh and encourage him to pump into you harder, faster. The feel of it makes Fin shout.
“Come for me,” you choke around your pleasure. “Please, Fin…want you to come.”
An animalistic growl rips from him, and he slams into you one, two, three more times, and then stills, throwing his head back with a roar that shakes the library. Hot, thick ropes of his seed seem endless as they’re unleashed inside you.
The force of it shatters you both, you think. With his trembling as thorough as yours, your nails are still raking over his skin as his brow presses to the crook of your neck. Strands of hair stick to the back of his. Your fingertips smooth over them tenderly.
It feels like eons that you stay there like that, holding each other up from collapsing under the weight of your mutual release. You want to hold him like this, always. You don’t care what others may have to say about it, what they may deem to be wrong about it. You want him.
He pulls back, as though sensing the thought. Meets your eyes. For a beat or two, he simply studies your face, something like clarity on his own.
And then he dips down and drops a kiss to your brow. Such a tender act, in the wake of such passion.
 No words are needed. Not as he scoops you up into his arms, leaving behind the mess the two of you have created. There’s a flash, and he’s winnowed you to your bedroom. A fire roars to life immediately. Fin places you down on the bed.
You watch through hooded eyes as he makes his way into the bathroom. Moments later, he’s returning with a warm, damp washcloth, and he perches beside you.
“Open your legs for me,” he whispers, and you do.
The High Lord of the Night Court is gentle as air as he takes care of you, wiping between your thighs and delivering soft, soothing strokes to your skin. A pleasant soreness sits in your lower belly. He leans down and presses a kiss there like he knows just that.
And then he’s sitting up, and it frightens you — the thought of him walking away, of this ending here and now.
So you lay a hand on his arm, breathing, “Stay with me.”
He pauses, eyes roaming your face like he’s assuring himself you mean it. And then he dips his chin.
“I would be honoured,” he rasps.
And thus, the affair begins.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
The need you and Fin have for each other is…insatiable.
Every moment he’s away, you’re thinking of him, longing for the moment he’ll appear in your room and rip your clothes off. If anyone else in the palace — staff, servants, associates — are aware of what’s going on, they don’t give it away. And that suits you just fine.
You can’t get enough. You’re giddy with it. Giddy from the multiple, interesting circumstances you’ve landed yourself in.
Like when you lured him out of a meeting and dropped to your knees in a fucking broom closet, taking his cock into your mouth until he was canting his hips forward and spilling down your throat. Or when he fucked you on the balcony of his personal quarters, your body pressed up against the balustrade, the two of you open to the elements and your moans loud enough to reach the stars above you and the city below you. Or when he took you to watch the ballet, and up in the cushy surrounds of your private viewing box, you watched the performance with him deep inside you, his fingers indolently playing with your clit, his low voice in your ear reminding you to keep quiet.
It’s…exciting. Enthralling. It changes everything.
And as he pulls out of you now, sweaty and panting, and collapses beside you in his bed, you’re not sure you could ever tire of this feeling.
He wants you. He wants you so ferociously, like nobody has ever wanted you before.
As you catch your breaths, he props his head up with his hand and stares at you through hooded eyes, glazed with lust. He leans down and grazes a kiss to your mouth.
“I don’t know how to make it stop,” he ponders as he pulls back, moving a hand to brush his fingers over your breast. “All this need — wanting you constantly.”
You lean up on your elbows, tilting your head, “Do you want it to stop?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Never.”
Never. Never is a very long time. It makes your stomach flip — the enormity of it.
Fin circles the tip of his forefinger around your pebbled nipple, watching with predatory fascination as he adds, “But this will, inevitably, blow up in our faces at some point. We haven’t exactly been secretive — not that I want to be. But people will talk.”
You lean up to brush your mouth over his. “Let them talk,” you say, and kiss him.
Immediately, he melts into the kiss. Your mouth seems to have an effect on him that you never thought yourself capable of. Always draws a long, pleasured sigh from him as he sinks into it, welcomes it.
He kisses you and kisses you, so greedily, so desperately. His hand snakes up to cup your cheek. He’s already hardening against your leg.
But he pulls away, dropping his forehead against yours. And he breathes, “Make a bargain with me.”
You trace a thumb over his bottom lip. You’ve never made a Night Court bargain before; never had reason to. “What bargain?”
“When this blows up in our faces,” he grips your hand, folding his own over it, “we face it together. You and I.”
“You and I?”
“You and I” he kisses your hand. “I don’t claim to be perfect. I don’t try to be. I can be brutal and callous, and I can lie and play games,” another kiss. “But not with you. Never with you. I will look after you. Take care of you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
Words that you’ve always longed for someone to say to you. Words that should not be taken lightly, should not be said without meaning.
But you know he means them. You can tell he does.
You watch closely as your fingers interlace with his. And you whisper, “Together?”
Fin’s thumb sweeps over yours. “Together. We’ll face it together.”
“Then it’s a bargain.”
A flash of splintering pain zips around your midriff. You glance down to find the tattoo now inked there. The black line that draws a perfect circle around your waist, like a trail of night-kissed lightning.
You look up at Fin to find a roguish smile playing on his lips.
“Oh, I like that,” he hums.
And then he’s leaning down and pressing kisses to that circlet signifying your promise to one another. Kisses the entirety of it, flipping you on your front in the process.
And kisses lower, until you’re screaming for him again.
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pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-a-girlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl
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madschiavelique · 11 months
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miguel has this habit - when he is stressed, he starts rutting and humping his clothed dick against you (just friction, no cumming). and since he has to put up with everyone’s shit - that happens a lot throughout the day. it’s like his brain shuts off for a few minutes and he is doing it on autopilot - no thoughts head empty ✌🏻😸 just the warm feeling of his best girl under his touch being there for him, and it’s enough to calm miguel down for a while. you’re quite used to it, and you don’t mind his brainless activity since it’s rather helpful for him and for you - you don’t need to do too much expect to hold your ground - once he thrusted so suddenly and strong it knocked you down 😅 (he felt really guilty after that). silly silly man
one day he was under so much stress that his crotch was basically glued to you. you felt bad for him - to see him so frustrated. but you felt bad for yourself too - his constant humping made your panties dripping wet and you couldn’t actually do anything about it while being at work. so when you two returned home, you finally could punish him for making you horny for all day in a best way possible - fucking him dumb until he can’t coherently respond to you 💅
i am SALIVATING anon dayummm
summary : miguel humps you when he's stressed (not proofread)
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, dry humping, pnv sex - unprotected sex (be safe kids), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k
tag list : @fandom-ash
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It had become a ritual. As soon as the situation became too stressful, as soon as everything in his head became so hectic that his mind sizzled and his skin tingled, he would come to you to hump on you. It was automatic, he needed to get rid of all the stress and unpleasant sensations in one way. This helped him to decompress, to simply concentrate on his desires, on your body and its warmth to get away from work pressure.
You'd always find a way to get alone and he'd hump you, desperately, rubbing against you and letting the frictional sensations electrify and stabilise everything around him that was preventing him from keeping his mind straight.
He could hump your thigh, against your fingers as you encouraged him and kissed the side of his neck, and sometimes against your clothed cunt. It wasn't always easy, letting him do that for a few moments and then having to go back to work when he was calm again and you were left turned on.
And today, it was a particularly painful sensation as your desire grew. Miguel was taking you aside easily every hour, humping against your ass, almost fucking your hands, rubbing desperately against your cunt.
Your body was becoming more sensitive by the hour, and every time Miguel came to you with that apologetic look on his face, you knew you were going to be tempted and doubly aroused.
He'd come back to hump your covered pussy, and the longer the hours went on, the more painful your arousal became. Your clit was throbbing, your body all hot, and that cloud spreading and tightening in your lower belly kept intensifying as soon as you had those little private moments.
You knew that, if he continued for even a few minutes longer in those moments, you wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and might come.
You wanted so desperately to just take off your bottoms and panties while he stripped off his clothes so that you could feel him inside you, all warm and tight.
But he always left before either of you could taste the completion of your two shared pleasures. He would go away, and you would follow him to continue his work. You sat next to him and tried to rub your thighs to feel a little friction, something that would hopefully satisfy you even a little without being able to literally go do something about it yourself.
Miguel wouldn't let you move away from him, wanting to make sure that if the urge arose again you'd be by his side. Today he was afraid that if you weren't there just in case, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he hated that: the lack of control.
So you suffered in silence, and he did the same. It was almost unbearable, like shaking a champagne bottle from time to time, the bubbles building up and ready to implode, but never being opened.
The power with which you led him into his quarters once the work was done was exceptional. You made sure the quarters were locked, and led him to your bed.
You kissed him with such appetite that he took a step backwards, soon coming back to feed on your lips. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as you humped him this time, almost aggressively.
The friction that your cunt and his cock were looking for had become necessary, sending little sparks of desire into both your bellies that would ignite a hungry fire.
You began to take off your costume, Miguel helping you with the task as his was depixelating. Your underwear was completely wet, proof of the excitement that had lasted you a whole day.
"Already so wet for me," he breathed between two pecks, humming as he came to kiss you harder.
Both your sexes were now finally naked, and a moan escaped from between your lips as you placed your cunt on him. His warmth against yours was a sensation you had been seeking all day.
You let yourself slide from the base of his dick to his tip, wanting to smear a little of your desire on his skin.
He let out grunts of desire, gripping your hips to make you move faster against him. You clit rubbed like that made you feel like your entire body was connected to one single place, and you finally understood the anticipation that Miguel could have on stressful days.
You understood all those sensations, those desires to have more without ever being able to satisfy yourself or let yourself have a climax for good, but now you were going to satisfy them.
"I'm going to take care of you now," you whispered as you held his dick underneath you, lining it to your entrance.
Without waiting for any response from him, you impaled yourself on him, both your mouths overflowing with moans.
At last you felt your walls closing in on him and not on empty space. You were so wet from all this previous unvoluntary teasing that you almost slid around him effortlessly, sinking down until your clit was in contact with the skin of his lower belly.
A drunken little smile graced your lips as you began to undulate your hips, the friction and sensations you'd so long sought finally present. Your pelvis was acting on its own, rolling back and forth like waves crashing on the sand as you watched Miguel's eyes close of pleasure.
He was guiding your thighs, grunts finally coming out loud and clear of his throat. He'd spent his whole day just grinding, and the setting prevented him from being even a little too vocal.
"Gosh you feel so good," he breathed in absolute adoration.
You kissed his lips and the crook of his neck, panting softly before nibbling and tracing his sensitive spots with your tongue. The poor guy deserved all this after the day he'd had.
And all the frustration he'd built up pushed him over the edge. Miguel didn't take long to come, the sudden sensation of your warm walls enveloping him at last driving him to climax.
His hips were jerking, single powerful thrust pushing into your cunt as he came while you were consciously clenching your walls to make him enjoy it even more.
You lowered yourself and kissed him, his cock still twitching deep inside you, and you continued to undulate your pelvis against his. You deserved to keep going, he'd made a wet humping mess of you in turn, and you earned your satisfaction.
"I'm not done with you," you breathed, carrying on riding him.
You arched your back as you moved forward, and rounded your pelvis as you moved back, his dick filling you in all the right places as he made you breath out soft moans.
He looked at you almost bestially, his eyes tinged a carmine colour.
You were a goddess, a true miracle before his eyes, your gaze planted in his as he watched you, running his tongue over his fangs.
He straightened up, coming to sit as you continued to undulate your pelvis. He put his hand on your hips to guide you against him, kissing your breasts lovingly, your chest, his hair completely dishevelled.
All day you'd had this storm brewing in your stomach, with the winds blowing stronger and thunder rumbling in the distance angry of this impossibility for pleasure.
He brought his hand down between your two bodies, gently touching your clit and starting to make circular movements around it while he kissed your shoulder.
"You're so good for me, nena." he sighed against your hot skin.
The moans that came from within you were full of desire, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your flesh making you see stars as you finally reached the point of orgasm.
The storm crashed into full force, your whole body vibrating as a powerful moan rocked your lips, Miguel grunting as your walls closed around him with intensity.
He watched you, cheek resting on your chest as you came down from all the sensations, his eyes riveted on your drunken expression of pleasure.
But you needed more, your hips starting to move again soon after, an almost pleading sigh escaping Miguel's lips as he nestled his head in your shoulder. It was going to be a long night, much to your delight.
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ma1dita · 5 months
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feed the fire
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 1.2k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. The fight never ends, but food service does, and well, you’re pretty when you’re mad. Lucky for you, your dad doesn’t really need offerings. Lucky for Luke, you’re in a sharing mood.  Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: Chiron isn’t gonna bet his kids against each other he on the side of love wym -.- (unbeta'd and purely made by caffeine)
(posted 1/22/24)
“If that was your definition of fun Castellan, you are most possibly the worst person alive,” you grumble, bumping past Luke in the dinner line. The weight of his plate is as heavy as his stare, eyes following you as you turn to look at him and he knows you’re pissed after his team won capture the flag. 
Again. 
After years at Camp Half-Blood and years of arguing with you, everything gets a bit repetitive. But he can’t help but bite back a grin at this routine you two have created—it’s never boring when you’re around. You get as close as you can to his large frame, nose turned up for another face-off and he shouldn’t find your anger…so attractive. He shouldn’t be so interested in someone who looks like they’re about to wring his neck. However, Luke eats up the attention from you like he’s starving and wanting seconds, so he eggs you on just to see how this turns out.
“But a damn good demigod right? You’re just a sore loser, trouble. Gonna have to do better than that to impress me,” Luke jabs at you, holding his tray in one hand. His grin gets impossibly bigger once his half-siblings rumble with laughter behind him, and the frown on your face deepens.
Where you two are involved, there’s always a spectacle. Rumors of campers placing bets and keeping score to the point of updating Mr. D with the count of who comes up on top each time you two argue. He’s past the point of assigning you two extra chores and taking away leisure time since you’re much older now (and essentially run the camp for him), so the god has resigned himself to placing bets with the kids (without Chiron knowing). But every week after capture the flag, Luke unknowingly bumps up several points just by existing. It’s damaging Mr. D’s stakes so much that he might have to bet against you, his own child, next time. Plus, there’s something about Luke that always riles you up.
“Who said I was impressing you?” You scoff, blocking him from walking to his table and he looks down at you (both figuratively and literally) with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know, with the way you won’t let it go, some people might think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart. Can’t blame you, though.” Luke’s words slip through his lips like water, and this time he’s unable to place what the expression on your face means as you stare back at him blankly with your fists clenched.
The only thing he’s able to perceive as a warning is the twitch of your eye before you’re on him, climbing him like a tree as you slam into him, knocking him to the ground and screaming, “YOU’RE SO FULL OF IT, CASTELLAN!”
Luke braces for impact as your hands are flying at him though there’s no intent to cause injury—he’s felt your right hook before and it took the air out of his lungs. This, was just you being petty, hands slapping him across the head and chest before you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and then…it was over before it even started.
“DAUGHTER! What do you think you’re doing?” Mr. D’s voice rings across the dining pavilion and your eyes meet Luke’s as you both remember where you are.
On his lap, with everyone watching. 
Air escapes him again as he feels the weight of your hips against his hands and he doesn’t quite remember when he moved them there, or when in all of these arguments he’s stopped fighting back. 
But was it ever really a fight, Luke wonders looking up at you, not even hearing anything coming out of Mr. D’s mouth right now. Your hair is framing your face and the harsh overhead lighting in the dining pavilion surrounds you like a halo. You look like you’ve been blessed by Aphrodite herself, ethereal and strong… and a new funny feeling in his chest makes him suddenly unsure of everything you two have ever done together. This isn’t part of the routine.
Shit. 
He’s in trouble.
The fist in his shirt loosens and he falls hard, head bumping against the hardwood floor. Luke can see his tray facedown on the ground, the grapes and his dinner roll bouncing away underneath the tables.
“He did it,” you blurt out like a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar. You can feel Luke’s chest rumble with laughter under your fingertips and you push up off of him, extending a hand to help him up. Your dad is gesturing at you to clean the mess, but by the time you finish your angry gestures and eye rolls to turn towards the utility closet, Luke’s already back and sweeping up the fallen food without any complaints. 
“You know, for the strongest swordsman in 300 years, I took you down pretty easy, huh, Luke?” You say cheesily, bumping his shoulder as he chuckles.
“You just caught me off guard—throwing yourself at me like a deranged satyr.”
“Oh because you’re a dainty nymph in distress,” you bite back, walking away to get dinner.
By the time he’s done cleaning up the mess, food service is over. He scratches the back of his neck and goes to sit next to Chris, who’s wolfed down most of his meal already, but to his surprise, you’re sitting in his usual seat with a plate piled high enough for two and some extra prayers.
“You here to rub it in? Gonna have to eat air for dinner because of you.” He falls onto the bench, leaning on his hand as he gazes at you with a slow smile, and then watches you brandish two forks in the air.
“I’ll gouge your eye with a fork if you don’t start eating.”
Your knees are touching under the table and his hand slightly shakes as he pulls the utensil from your fingers. 
“Sometimes I think I like it better when you’re mean to me,” he jokes but takes a hefty bite of pasta anyway.
“You love it.”
He can’t help but agree.
Clarisse walks over to Mr. D who’s watching you two from across the dining pavilion with an emotion akin to confusion and possibly disgust. You’re both laughing at something indiscernible to everyone else around you, together, not at each other…and it’s unsettling. The daughter of Ares stands in front of the Olympian with her palm extended.
“Pay up. Luke clearly won again.”
Mr. D’s eye twitches as he holds onto his drachmas. He was supposed to be entertained by this, not be the entertainment.
“Did he though? They both look like they’ve tamed down. This is starting to get boring.”
A hand comes out of nowhere, snatching the drachmas out of the god’s hand, and Clarisse’s eyes widen at Chiron, who’s been behind them all along.
“I’ll take that. Don’t think either of them are gonna win this in the end.”
The three of them watch Luke say something to you with a mischievous grin and you gape at him as you shove a bread roll into his mouth angrily.
Mr. D tuts and it catches your attention, your middle finger directed at him as you push the rest of your plate towards Luke.
“What, no offerings for your dear father?” He calls out disgruntled by your audacity. 
“You clearly eat enough, D!”
Luke elbows you as he laughs behind his bread roll, and Chiron smiles, knowing what’s forming between you two, even if you both don’t see it quite yet.
“There’s something between us; a sort of pull. Something you always do to me, and I to you.” F. Scott Fitzgerald
ask to be added to the general/luke taglist! 🥹
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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koolades-world · 1 month
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currently sick rn haha. my sinuses are clogged, got this headache and an awful sore throat, but thankfully i have some medicine to help curb that and i get the excuse to relax at home :) been drinking lots of water, hot tea and gatorade! staying hydrated is cool kids haha
doing my personal favs because being sick gives me sick privileges haha
anyways enjoy <3
Sick Day
Mammon
he's literally attached at the hip with you, or as close as he can be, which is next to your bed in a chair
he's acting like you're dying even if it's just a common cold that you'll shake off in a day or two
mans will literally run to get you anything you need and be back so fast you weren't even sure how he moved that fast
even if there's the risk he might be able to catch it himself, he doesn't care, that just means he gets to spend more time with you!
Satan
probably the most rational and will take every measure to make sure he's caring for you right
he reads extensive literature and gets a doctor to come in and diagnose you even if it's just a cold so he can care for you best
you're on a speedy track to recovery in his hands
if demons can get it, he'll still spend time with you, just expect him to take extensive measures to avoid getting sick haha
Diavolo
he can't be by your side all the time likes he wants to be because duty calls unfortunately
but, he will slip away at anytime he can to see you and bring you anything he thinks you might like
this includes games you can play alone and together, snacks, some light reading, and anything you might need to fend of the symptoms of the sickness of course
just know, he's got you on his mind while he's doing that paperwork, counting down the minutes until his next break where he can come visit you
Mephisto
initially a little freaked out, like wdym you're sick? he's very rich boy core so of course he's not experienced in caring for the sick
but, you can help him help you, as much as you can of course
in a way, he's kind of boyfailure but that's ok because he is trying his best for you and wants to see you better
he'll even spoon feed you soup, what a cutie <3
Thirteen
the best caretaker for when you're sick hands down
she'd keep you company, she'd cook you tasty food, she'd ensure your drinks are always cold, and of course help you get better
and she enjoys it too! she really cares about you and wants nothing more than to see you better again so you can continue your shenanigans
when she's around, you're never sick for more than a few days at a time. she's a miracle worker!!
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