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moralesluvr · 22 days ago

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i just saw the new billie pics in her heels and then she posts a photo dumb with her baggy outfits and cap and omg can you write a fic where billie works in readers university and is all dressed classy and one weekend reader runs into billie at a party and shes all dressed baggy and smokes weed and is completely different and they hook up and then continue in uni but have to hide ?!

TEACHER’S PET | b. eilish.

ꨄ︎ includes substance use, age gap (reader is 20 and billie is 27), smut !!

out of all your classes, miss eilish’s music theory class was definitely your favorite.

she always wore strikingly put together her creative outfits, with her pointed black heels, black and white skirts and blazers— she was always looking put together.

you had first met her during orientation week. when you saw her name plastered across your syllabus, you were sure it was some stuck up, old woman with small glasses that would lean against her frail nose. but it completely and utterly shocked you when you were met with a black-haired beauty with a voice of honey and pink, plump lips. there was a private ocean in her blue eyes, long eyelashes making them look even prettier as she'd never break eye contact when she spoke with you.

it was so wrong of you to think of her like that. but when you first got a glimpse of her, strolling into your class with a coffee in her hand and heels clacking against the tile floors, you knew you were in trouble.

her suit's tailored and impossibly sleek, and your mind can't help but drift as she addresses the class, writing something on the board that you're not paying attention to. all you can look at is her. the way her hair frames her face to accentuate her jaw, the way her black hair sits neatly atop her head. you didn't want to admit it, but she was fine as fuck.

"okay, so, these notes clash, which makes the dissonance more prominent," billie speaks, pointing to different examples of music up on the board. you try to focus, you really do, but your attention keeps drifting off to other places. to the way billie's hands move when she talks, showing off her hand tattoo, or the way her lips curl slightly when someone asks a question that she clearly finds stupid, though she's always polite enough to answer it.

you feel your attention finally drift back to the material, but by then, it's too late. the bell rings and everyone grabs their belongings, ready to move onto whatever class they have next, but you linger behind, making sure to grab your things slowly.

billie's still up front, stacking up papers and taking a sip of her coffee when her eyes catch yours over the rim of her cup.

it's like a reflex for you to look away, eyes focusing on whatever irrelevant shit is on the wall so that billie doesn't catch you staring.

you hear her heels clicking against the floor as she moves toward the door, probably on her way to another class or a meeting, but then they stop.

she turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised as she cocked her head to the side slightly out of curiosity, "you staying behind for a reason?"

her voice pulls you back in, warm and honey-smooth, as always. you glance up to find her standing at the edge of her desk, one perfectly arched brow raised as she looks at you.

your throat feels dry now. this is the first conversation that you've really had with her, and you felt so torn. because even though she was your teacher, she was still so beautiful, and it made you anxious regardless.

you try to play it off, "uh, no. i was just—" and then you pause, struggling to find an excuse that doesn't sound ridiculous. "just taking my time, i guess."

"taking your time, huh?"

you nod quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder and gripping the strap to steady you. you bite your lip and pray that what just came out of your mouth is believable.

and it seems to be, because miss eilish doesn’t move. she's just watching you with that same quiet intensity from before, the same kind that makes your skin feel tingly when you look at her, the same kind that makes your ears perk everytime you hear her voice.

there’s something about the way her eyes linger on yours, a softness mixed with something sharper, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"you’re... i'm sorry love, i'm not good with names. what’s yours again?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

the little nickname of 'love' nearly makes you fall and crash onto the empty desk next to you. but you just mumble your name out to her, voice soft as you try to keep your behavior in check.

the conversation between you and billie is short-lived after that. she compliments your hard work and dedication, complains about some meeting she has to attend, and then she's off, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she disappears into the hallway.

and from that moment on, professor eilish is all you can think about.

you tell yourself it’s just a passing crush, something harmless and fleeting, but it doesn’t feel harmless when her voice lingers in your head long after class has ended. or when you catch yourself looking forward to music theory in a way that’s... unsettling.

there's nothing even fun about that class. it's hard and long and sometimes even gives you headaches, but the only thing that kept you so interested was her.

you started sitting closer to the front, telling yourself it’s because you want to focus better. and you do focus! ....at least for the first five minutes.

but then she’ll lean against the desk, crossing her arms in a way that makes the blazer pull just slightly against her frame, exposing her bare waist. or she’ll glance over her shoulder with a look so sharp, blue eyes glistening underneath the light of her classroom, making your breath catch.

and when she calls on you, there’s something in her tone, a faint lilt that makes it sound like she’s daring you to impress her. she always asks you a question like she wants you to get it wrong.

miss eilish calls on you one day, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the classroom. "what do you think, love? do these notes resolve, or is there still tension?"

your heart skips as every pair of eyes in the room turns toward you, but hers are the only ones that really matter. she's waiting, hand on her hip as she holds an expo marker in hand, ready to draw your answer up on the board.

"uh... i think they resolve," you cough out, hoping you don’t sound as unsure as you feel. you knew it was the right answer, but every single pair of eyes in that classroom was on you, especially your favorite blue ones.

billie nods slowly, a hint of approval in her expression as she turns around to write the correct answer, "good. and why’s that?"

you fumble for an explanation, trying to string together something coherent while her gaze stays locked on yours. she bites her lip, and you feel your words slip from you as you try not to freeze up.

"because, um, the intervals between the notes... they close the gap, so there’s no dissonance left," you say in short, choppy phrases.

her lips twitch into a small smile, almost like she’s pleased. "exactly. nice work."

you swear her eyes linger just a second longer than necessary before she moves on, but it’s enough to leave your pulse racing for the rest of class.

────୨ৎ────

there's one afternoon where you decided show up to class early, expecting to have a few quiet minutes to yourself, but miss eilish's already there.

she’s leaning against the desk, scrolling through her phone with a coffee in hand, per usual. her blazer is draped over the chair behind her, leaving her in a crisp white button-up that somehow feels just as striking. it's low cut, and with her leaning against her desk the way she was, it gave you a direct view to her chest, making you gulp. you knock on the open door to let your presence be known, "hi, miss eilish."

she glances up when she hears you enter, her lips curling into that faint, almost-smile that’s been on repeat inside your mind. she raises a hand to wave at you, setting her phone down, "early today?"

"yeah," you say, feeling oddly self-conscious as you settle into your usual seat. "figured i’d get a head start. i've been struggling with...um, some tonic stuff."

"dedicated. i like that," she says, taking a sip of her coffee, waving her hand at you as she swallows, "and don't worry about the tonic stuff, honey, you don't have to be anxious with any of that. we’ll review.”

the way billie calls you more and more pet names as time goes on makes you stomach flip. of course, she probably calls all of her students some type of pet name, but it doesn't change the way it makes your cheeks feel hot to the touch as she gives you a smile when she calls you all sorts of sweet names.

────୨ৎ────

it’s the end of a long, dreary week when miss eilish calls your name just as class is about to end. you’re really not in the mood— slinging your bag against your desk with a huff, eyes burning with former tears when you found out that you had gotten a sixty on the test today.

you were just about to leave, collecting your things and shoving them into your bag when you hear billie repeat your name again, her voice cutting through the low hum of conversation as your classmates gather their belongings and head out. "can you stay for a moment?"

you freeze, your stomach flipping as the rest of t your classmates filter out, their chatter fading into the hallway until it’s eventually quiet, and now it’s just you and billie. you keep your head down, pretending to check the straps of your bag awkwardly.

"close the door, please," she says, her tone casual but firm. you nod, your palms suddenly clammy as you push the door shut, returning back to your seat.

when you turn around, she’s perched on the edge of her desk, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. her blazer is draped over her chair, and her sleeves are rolled up just enough to reveal the faint edge of her hand tattoo. you swallow thickly.

"you’ve been tense lately," miss eilish starts, tilting her head slightly to give you concerned eyes. she opens her mouth like she wants to speak again, but she stops, giving you a chance to speak for yourself.

"i’m fine," you say quickly when given the chance, though the words feel hollow even to you.

she can tell you’re lying.

her lips curve into a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. it’s more sorrowful than all the other smiles she gives you, and she almost seems upset that you’re upset. ��you’ve been saying that a lot, honey.”

you shrug, unsure of what else to say, so you avert your gaze to the floor. but she doesn’t let you off the hook so easily.

"school can be overwhelming," miss eilish continues, her voice softening. "but you don’t have to do it all alone, you know that, right? you can always—“

"i’m managing," you interrupt through a mumble, fiddling with the strap of your bag. you’re ready to bolt out the door. this is the first time that you wished you weren’t talking to billie right about now.

and as much as you want her to just hush and let you go, she doesn’t. her smile widens, just slightly as she tried to give you advice, "managing is one thing, but you’re allowed to take a break. you’re human. school it’s important, but it isn’t everything.”

her words catch you off guard. the way your name follows more intimate ones feels way too personal, like it doesn’t belong in this fluorescent-lit, dusty old classroom.

"i guess," you say, your voice quieter now. you don’t really know what to say. was there an appropriate response to this? and even if there was, you weren’t really in the mood at all.

"have you thought about doing something for yourself this weekend?" miss eilish asks, leaning back slightly, her hands resting on the edge of the desk behind her.

"not really," you admit, your attention definitely not on the conversation anymore. your eyes are fixated on her— her open top, her crossed legs, her freshly painted and cut nails…she was such a distraction.

billie hums thoughtfully, her eyes scanning your face like she’s trying to read you. "well, you should go out this weekend. do something fun, something that takes your mind off all of this for a while."

there’s a softness in her gaze that makes it hard to look away, even though every nerve in your body is screaming at you to do so.

"i’ll think about it," you say, forcing a small smile, though you really aren’t in the mood at all. but you muster up a fake laugh and a grin, packing up your final things to get ready and leave.

her eyes linger on you for a moment longer before she nods, sliding off her desk with a click! and grabbing her bags to go ahead and leave. "well, good. you deserve it."

────୨ৎ────

you don’t plan on going to this party.

you spend most of saturday afternoon curled up in your bed, your laptop balanced on your knees as you scroll aimlessly back and forth between netflix and pinterest, though neither of them really have your attention.

your intentions are mostly to take a chill day, but of course, your roommate, nadia— has other plans, bursting into your room halfway through the evening with a devilish grin and an outfit that screams bad decisions ahead!

"you’re coming with me," she announces, shaking a sequined top wildly before chucking it onto your covers. you don’t even look up at her, you just continue to scroll on your macbook as you shrug, informing her that you aren’t really interested in leaving your house.

"yes, you are," the girl insists insists, hands on her hips firmly. “you’ve been sulking all week. you need to get out! go get some bitches!”

"i’m not sulking," you protest, though the half-eaten bag of chips accompanied by a 3-day old dr. pepper can next to you might suggest otherwise. if it wasn’t for school, you really hadn’t left your dorm at all.

you felt like you were going crazy. school was kicking your ass, and all these little interactions with miss eilish just started to take more and more of a toll on you.

"come on, y/n," nadia speaks gently now, her tone softening out of respect for any decision you might make, though you know which one she wants you to make. "just one night. it’ll be good for you."

you sigh, glancing at the top she brought. it’s way flashier than anything you’d ever pick out for yourself, but her words stick with you. you needed to get out.

before you know it, you’re standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of the sequined top and trying to convince yourself that this is what you needed. you put on a light base of makeup and fix your hair in a lazy updo, but still cute enough to where it makes you look put together.

“you ready to go?” nadia asks, applying some lipstick in the mirror as she planted a kiss on your cheek, the red tint contrasting against your skin. you frown, but you’re still showing all teeth as you shrug, “i guess so.”

maybe this could be good for you.

────୨ৎ────

the party is already in full swing by the time you and nadia arrive.

the bass of the most popular and newest songs reverberates through the walls, and the air is thick with the mingling scents of beer, weed, and something sweet— perfume mixed with all of the above, probably.

you follow your roommate through the crowd, your left hand gripping nadia’s and your right holding your phone so tight you thought your fingers could snap. losing your phone has to be number one worst things to do at a party, and tonight was definitely not the night to have anything bad added to your plate of stress.

you’re scanning the room, trying to find a quiet corner to retreat to when you realize that nadia’s twerking on some random guy, which you definitely had no interest in.

you’re walking towards a small sitting section with low eyes, and that’s when you see her.

she’s leaning against the wall in the back of the room, one foot propped up behind her. a red solo cup dangles from her fingers, and a joint rests lazily in an ashtray next to her, being picked up every once in a while for her to take a hit. her hair is loose, cascading around her face in soft waves, and she’s wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants that are so at odds with her usual polished appearance, it’s almost dizzying to you.

and it takes you a moment to process that it’s her.

miss eilish.

your professor.

your heart pounds as you stand frozen in place, torn between looking away and staring at her forever. her usual collected and sweet demeanor is absolutely nowhere to be found, and is now replaced with what you can guess as the authentic, raw side of her.

before you can decide whether you should speak to her or pretend you never even saw her, miss eilish’s eyes meet yours across the room, scanning your outfit.

you felt naked in front of her. with your gold, backless top and your tiny black mini skirt, you felt so immodest for your teacher to see you like this. you just bit your lip and looked down, knowing already that there was virtually nothing you could do to get out of this situation.

for a moment, neither of you moves.

then, slowly but surely, her voice calls out your name, smooth and unmistakable, cutting through the noise of the party. it’s hard to miss although you try your best to ignore it.

she was your teacher. you needed to bolt in the other direction and never look back, but it was like your feet were working against you as you turn back, your pulse racing, to find her weaving through the crowd toward you.

"didn’t expect to see you here," miss eilish says, stopping just a foot away from your idle spot near the booths in the back.

"didn’t expect to see you here either," you manage, your voice trembling slightly as you shrug, hoping that your attempted nonchalance would calm your nerves.

it didn’t.

billie chuckles, a low, soft sound that sends a shiver down your spine. her eyes flick over you, analyzing every single little detail about you. she’s taking in your outfit with an amused tilt of her head as she speaks with a surprised nod, “nice top."

"thanks," you say, your cheeks flushing. the air is thick now, and a little awkward, so you cough in attempt to calm your nerves. but billie does that for you,

"having fun?" she asks to break the silence. she reaches for the joint, bringing it to her lips and taking a slow drag.

"i’m really trying to," you admit, your eyes following the movement of her hand as she exhales.

she holds the joint out to you, her lips curling into a playful smile. "want some?"

your breath catches, and for a moment, you hesitate. you had never really smoked before, and the thought of calming your nerves down a little actually appealed to you.

"it’s just a party," miss eilish says, her voice soft, almost coaxing. "no one’s judging. it’s up to you.”

you didn’t really want to say no anyways, so you nodded, expecting billie to hand you to the joint. instead, she pulls it to your lips, low eyes fixated you as you take a couple hits, the smoke slipping past your lips.

────୨ৎ────

you really don’t know how, but you end up outside with billie, the cool air electrifying and sobering all at once. you were honestly just overwhelmed with all the noise, and there was too much going on— so you decided to sit outside at a patio, smoking and giggling, your nerves eventually calming down.

“you feel better, love?” there she does again with that damn nickname.

“a little,” you admit, crossing your arms and rubbing your hands against them to warm yourself. your mind feels a little hazy and your body feels slow, but it feels good, and you can’t help but giggle with billie as the both of you make fun of each other’s red eyes and sleazy looks.

she laughs softly, the sound low and intimate. “thought you’d be studying, i’m surprised you left your dorm at all.”

you shrug, the corner of your mouth lifting. “guess i took your advice. plus…my roommate forced me.”

billie giggles, resting her head in her arms as she lays atop the patio table. she gives you sweet eyes, “there’s something about you that i really like, but i can’t put my finger on what it is...”

you bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you want to say. it’s wrong— it’s inappropriate, this is your teacher for God’s sake. but it wasn’t like you started it. maybe the both of you could keep a secret?

“you’re so pretty,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. your heart feels like it’s gonna pound out your chest, the tension crackling like static between you two. you should lean back, say something to defuse this moment, but you don’t.

instead, you stay rooted to the spot as her fingers brush your wrist, the touch sending a jolt through you.

“can i?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips so close now that you can feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. you nod, unable to form words, and then her mouth is on yours, soft and deliberate, and you feel your whole body tense as she billie you.

it feels so wrong, but so so very right, and you smile a little bit because you know that deep down, you wanted this, and you got exactly that.

────୨ৎ────

you realize that you’ve taken it too far.

one kiss turned into five, and then ten, and fifteen minutes later, you’re sitting on billie’s counter with a wine glass in hand, though there’s only juice in it. she had invited you over because she figured neither you or nadia were sober and couldn’t really be out responsibly. it was a refuge that tou genuinely did need, so you accepted, waiting until you were at least sober enough get home safely.

billie sits her glass down and makes her way over to you, hands finding your waist as she looks you deep in your eyes, telling you her secret before she does. she licks her lips, “you’re twenty, right love?”

you nod, “yeah….um…how old are you, miss eilish?”

“twenty-seven.”

shit.

seven years doesn’t seem like a lot, but it kind of is. but all of that concern flies out the window when her lips latch on yours, when your black miniskirt is nothing but fabric discarded to the floor, when billie’s head in buried deep in between your legs.

her eyes flickered to your exposed pussy, looking up at you before licking up a long stripe all the way up to your clit. you whine, your hand immediately finding her hair as you gripped at it, a handful filling your slick palms. billie’s tongue browses everywhere on you before settling on a singular spot on your bud, making you tremble underneath her. she suckles at your clit, her curvy nose alternating from side to side, maximizing the pleasure. you yank at her scalp, struggling to form words, "m-miss eilish… oh my gosh, p-please...please don't stop.”

it felt like such a sin the way she had your back arching, fists grabbing the counters beneath you— and yet it felt so right at the same time.

billie’s mouth is too busy to respond to you, but she answers you in a nod, causing the tip of her nose to bump against the sweet spot of your swollen clit. you fight not to scream out, your teeth desperately sinking into your bottom lip so hard that they nearly bleed.

billie slides her hand up to your torso as she resumes her sweet assault on your slick heat, kneading at your bra accented breasts. your toes flinch, begging to curl, causing you to cry out as billie takes your whole bud in her mouth. your knuckles turn white from gripping the counter, and she can tell you're close by the swelling of your sensitive clit.

she pulls away, serving you only mere licks, "gonna cum for me?"

"yes, god, yes," you pant, your head flying backwards. the pleasure is strong enough to knock you out, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. the coil that's built up in your stomach finally snaps when billie returns to flicking her nose against your dripping cunt. her tongue settles idly against you, collecting all your juices, "so good, my good little girl, you did such a good job."

the stars in your eyes start to fade when your vision descends, looking directly at the girl who's basking in your current state. face all flushed, your cunt glistening and puffy, your hands still gripped against the table, your knuckles bleeding white. your chest rises, "want your fingers, miss eilish, please."

"since you asked so nicely," she coos, upstanding to her full height to peck you on the lips before shuffling in front of you. you shift backward so that she has full access to your pussy, watching as she gently plunged one finger into your sopping heat. a string of moans immediately rolls off your lips as you buck your hips forward, aching for more than what she was giving you.

"m-more," you pant, your eyes screwed shut.

"so greedy." billie nearly giggles, but she still adds another finger to the mix, per your request. she styles her thrusts in wide scissors, admiring your sloppy, relaxed state as you grunted beneath her. the tips of billie’s fingers curled upwards against your dilated walls, pressing against that sweet spongy spot deep within your core. a tingly feeling erupts in your stomach, making your hand fly to her exposed arms. your fingernails into her flesh, the outline of your acrylics leaving red semi circle marks on her bicep.

billie’s thumb unlatches from her palm, journeying to find your pulsing bud. she smiles when she locates it, rubbing tight, firm circles on it. you immediately clench around her fingers, "miss...oh my goodness, i-i can't..."

"c'mon," she encourages, her pace speeding up, "you can take it. you’re my best girl, always— in class, right now, prove me right, honey.”

you nod, although you were unsure about her statement. you chant her name like a prayer, moans escaping your throat. billie’s free thumb presses underneath your chin, forcing you to look at her. she looks back at you with stern eyes, "shut it up, or i'll stop, you hear me?"

"yes.”

“yes what?”

“yes ma’am.” you whine, watching as billie gives you a small nod before continuing to thrust her digits deeply inside you, watching you fall apart beneath her. your chest fluctuates and your back arches, your walls clenching irregularly around her fingers. she feels your core tighten, "that's it, good girl— i’ve got you honey. you can cum."

you do as told, your orgasm ripping through you as you cry out, your eyes sewn shut. billie continues to finger you—ignoring your post-orgasm sensitivity, grinning at the sight of you shaking at her tender touch.

"m-miss... f-feels s'good," you manage to breathe out, looking up at her smug face. she can't contain her giddy expression- she loved seeing you like this, a complete mess beneath her, your glistening body on display for her and only her. the squelching of your wet pussy is the only sound that fills the atmosphere, accenting her occasional praises.

“you wanna hear the truth?” billie starts, her movements not ceasing as she extended her height to put her face right up against your own, foreheads touching. “every since i watched you walk into my class, i couldn’t take my fuckin’ eyes off of you. you’re smart and attentive, fuck— so damn pretty. and i didn’t wanna lose my job, no, of course not— but i should’ve known that you were staying after so much just to come see me. is that true?”

you nod, the walls of your cunt tightening as you felt that familiar feeling grow in your abdomen as she continues, “i know, princess. but this our little secret, yeah? you keep your pretty mouth shut, and you can have whatever you want.”

the way she’s talking to you, it makes your stomach flip. you knew deep down that it was wrong, the way you’d have to slip past her in the halls like you didn’t see her, pretending like your attentiveness was just because of your love for the subject, though it really never was.

when you come down from your last orgasm and billie cleans you up, you’re laying in her bed with her clothes on, watching as she discards her own to throw on something more comfortable.

as she slips under the covers next to you, you feel her rest her chin in the crook of your neck, her hands resting on your waist.

“this is our little secret.”

and it was. you snuck around campus to see her, would linger behind in class just so you could steal a kiss before your next one. you’d leave after school and go to her apartment, drinking wine and making love, just to be back in her classroom the next morning.

she’d give you playful winks sometimes, and people speculated who miss eilish would’ve gone for, assuming it was some air headed guy in her sixth class. and though it was so very wrong, your lips couldn’t help but curl, knowing that you had gotten exactly what you wanted.

she was all yours.

send an ask to be added to my taglist !

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plumipal · 8 days ago

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Chat, as an artist, I tend to draw. Shocker I know. Some stuff never makes it past drafting tho, so I wanna share it here lmfao, these plans or scenarios may be revisited later on yknow, you never know with me and rehashing ideas :P

Kalim, what can I say. I swear this was for a convo I had with my pookie @artdolliewishes bur I do not remember, it's so fucking funny who WHY IS HE LOLKING LIEK THAT-

Next is also a drawing from our endless convos, a matching phoencharm idea for adeuce and you, specifically in the tattoo au as to show that adeuce won, leading to more desperate forms of trying to get you for themselves from the rest fo the students.

Once again from a convo believe. Why they looking like that tho? Idk they're ugly.

This is how Ace looks when he gets rejected trust, this is ace heartbreak. I swear I have this animated somewhere I'll see if I can find it.

Next, this I believe was a loooooong post idea where you do a "hear me out" cake with adeuce, only for them to each whip out a pic of you and put on the cake (as a sort of confession), leading to the other reacting about the confession and said trend. Either was gonna make you get together with adeuce or just leave it up to interpretation.

Next was the "invented " designs of the characters (aka "we have twst at home"), this still makes me crack up

Next was a scenario with yan Riddle. This one is pretty old, seen as I used the coloring brush as lineart instead of my dumbass ms paint brush. I still like it tho, but eh.

Same with this Trey drawing. I believe I was gonna make him "you can trust me, im an ordnary older brother achtype and totally normal" like he wouldn't lick your teeth when you kiss him.

I also have this really fucking dumb artwork of azul in my sensory overload (YABABAINA esk) style, he is so colorful mmm I love :P this style is just so fun to draw in trust

And I think that's all, I swear I have more shit stashed away I just can't find it lmfao- but yeah hope you all enjoy.

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russellbby · 11 months ago

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pairing: jude bellingham x fem!f1driver! (face claim: lisa onuoha)

in which: everyone finds out about jude bellingham and his girlfriend, who happens to be the f1 stargirl.

note: I’m backkkkk!

judebellingham

Liked by vinijr, trentarnold66 and 4,198,089 others

judebellingham: Golden Boy 2023. Beyond grateful, thank you to everyone who's supported my journey until this point, can't fully express my appreciation!

view all 32,916 comments

user1 JUDEEEE🤩

user2 The 3rd pic?!

user7 Who’s your girlfriend?!?

user3 He’s got a girlfriend😭

trentarnold66 🤩

judebellingham ❤️

user4 Star boy!!!

user3 He’s got a girlfriend😭

user6 Why does she look familiar👀

camavinga Tell her to come visit us!

judebellingham You literally have a group chat!

vinijr We like her better!

rodryygogoes She also has a sick car too

aurelientchm Sorry bro😌

judebellingham wow.

user12 I need to know who she is!!!

user15 Someone tell us!!!

user9 Who is it?!

yourusername

Liked by judebellingham, landonorris and 2,836,629 others

yourusername: new tats + ml🤍

view all 18,629 comments

user17 mother has a bf?!

user21 Y/N ?! WHEN ?!

user6 Why is Jude in her likes👀

landonorris And who is he?

yourusername Why should I tell u?

maxverstappen1 Why wouldn’t u tell us?

charles_leclerc I will ask Lewis.

landonorris LEWIS KNOWS?!

user5 Lando is just like us😭

user8 So, Lewis knows?!👀

user10 The fact that Lewis is the only know that knows on the grid !!

lewishamilton Another matching soon?

yourusername Is that even a question?

user18 Another?! They already have matching tattoos?!

user1 Lewis and Y/N are such sibling coded.

user24 Back to the point guys!! Y/N has a bf!!!

judebellingham & yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton, realmadrid and 5,183,981 others

judebellingham my love❤️

view all 41,729 comments

user12 OMG

user19 JUDE & Y/N ?!

user1 STARBOY + STARGIRL !!

user29 I already love this🥰

vinijr FINALLY!

camavinga Took you guys long enough!!🙄

judebellingham oh shut up!

user5 I LOVE THIS!

user15 Y/N & Jude🥰

user1 🤩🤩🤩

landonorris Is he coming to a race anything soon?

maxverstappen1 We want to meet him!

charles_leclerc And have a chat!

carlossainz55 A friendly chat.

yourusername yeah, no chance.

user82 The boys are so protective😭

user51 Jude ain’t coming to a race anytime soon🤣🤣

user11 I actually can’t believe they are together.

#football #football imagines #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smau #f1 imagines #f1 #f1 x fem!driver #f1 x female driver

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 11 months ago

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https://www.instagram.com/reel/C10hCCZRjVR/?igsh=NjljbTg3OXp6NnJj

Seeing Simon holding his 3month old baby girl like this around the house and doing the koala one when he's burping the baby

READ IT HERE

(Pics included in case you don't want to watch the short insta video)

No, no, don't do this to me. This is too fucking cute I can't stand it!

Anytime I think of Simon with a little baby of his own I immediately melt and want to give that man all the babies he wants, especially a little girl. Girl Dad Simon is at the top of my list of favorite things to think and write about with him. I just want this man to enjoy some softness.

I think at about the three month mark he is going to be a lot more comfortable with the baby and honestly, he finds that he is a natural at taking care of her. When she first came home, I can see him being really nervous and apprehensive to be around her, not that he doesn't absolutely adore her, but he is afraid he's going to somehow hurt her and he never wants that.

But after a bit of time he becomes more comfortable and is able to be very hands on in her care. And he finds that he really, really likes to be the one to hold her, burp her, ect. She is his little princess after all and his love for her just grows the more he interacts with her. I mean, she is the best of you both put together, why wouldn't he cherish her?

Oh my heart is melting.

But wait... can you imagine the baby like tracing her little fingers over his tattoos as he koala holds her? I think she would love to look at them, all intrigued about how they are just there, and Simon just lets her stare and touch as long as she likes. He says he's doing it because it's keeping her quiet, but you both know it's just so he can hold her longer.

I'm thinking this might need to be a fic involving something where some of the guys from the 141 see him being so natural just handling the baby like he was made to do it. Like big ol stoic Simon being gentle with this tiny little being, a side of him they didn't know possible.

Oh yeah this has to be a thing, my heart needs it!

Keep a look out for the massive amounts of fluff this is going to entail cause it's gonna make your teeth hurt with how sweet it is.

#simon riley family man #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley fluff #simon #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost #cod ghost #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost call of duty

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tokkiwrites · 1 year ago

Text

𖧷 Dirty Diana 🍷

in which you want to surprise your dad with his favorite band tickets. you're really lucky when you stumble upon the lead guitarist, Joel Miller, at your local grocery store. things escalate- but you do get those tickets.

★ ͘rockstar!joel miller, fem!reader, dom joel, sub reader, afab reader, p in v sex unprotected, rough joel, age gap, dumbification of reader, hair pulling, slapping, head m and f receiving, creampie, kind of size kink if u tilt your head, joel has tattoos and a piercings (yummy), sir kink, almost pet play, lots of pet names. drinking, mentions of cheating. lmk if i missed any!!!! ( The pic in the banner doesn't describe the readers body!! there for the aesthetics) not proofread

you've never been a rock fan. sure, you'd enjoy listening to the songs your dad played on your 3 hour long car rides, the ones he always sets as his ring-tone...

but you were in a dilemma nowㅡ there's a giveaway of sorts with tickets to your dad's most favorite band from the early 90's, and to even have a chance at those tickets you need to submit a video of yourself singing one of their songs.

now you would ask your dad, but the first thing that made you this set on getting those tickets was surprising him with them on his upcoming birthday. you'd buy them, but they're either sold out or 200 bucks on shady sitesㅡ and you're a broke college student on winter break.

you sigh, closing your laptop and throwing it on the other side of the bed. you stare up at the ceiling, counting the little neon stars you've had there since you were 10. they always calmed youㅡ made your brain less foggy, even for just a few seconds.

groaning, you throw your legs around, frustrated and disappointed in yourself. this would've really made his worries slip away, for a bit, after what happened with your mom. you still can't wrap your head around why your mom chose her exceeding in nothing, 2 palms of receding hairline co-worker. i mean, he was richㅡ super fucking rich, but was it worth it? your dad didn't deserve it.

you wipe the tears you've just now realized were dripping down your face. "i need something to drink." sniffling, you put on your plush jacket, get some slippers , and spray on some perfume. "at least need to smell presentable if i look likeㅡ" you stare into the mirror, laughing to yourself, "that."

you stroll out of your house and down the street. you were lucky for the grocery store just about 7 minutes away, give or take. it wasn't that small but it wasn't big either, at least not big enough so that you learned form a young age where all of your favorite iles were.

"Hi, Miss Sammy!" you greet the cashier, an old friend of the family and sort of an aunt to youㅡ you remember when she'd let you stay after school in the back of the store up until 5 pm, when your dad came to pick you up. "Hi, honey! How's winter break treating you?"

"'s fine... I'm glad to be back home with dad." you smile and her gaze softened. "Well if you ever need anythin', you let me know sugar, mkay?" you nod, walking to the furthest part of the store, where all of the drinks were. you look around, trying to find the cheapest thing that can get you dizzy the fastest. really deep in your mind you failed to notice someone coming up to your side, breaking the silence.

"Rough day?" you jump, taking one step back before you turn around to see who it was.

"Yeah, you could say thaㅡ wait." you pause. holy shit. you couldn't believe your eyes. "I know you! You're thㅡ" he presses his fingers agains your lips, and oh, it sends a shiver down your back. "quiet down, darlin'."

you nod, whispers-yelling, "You're Joel Miller, right?" he sighs, smiling at your question, and your eyes light up. this is perfect, so, so perfect. "My dad loves you guysㅡ you and your band."

"that so?" your arms flare up, smiling so big. "you've no idea! 's why i was so excited to hear about you coming to town. Wanted to surprise him."

"wanted?" Joel quirks his eyebrows up, his voice dropping an octave. "Yeah, well, i found out pretty late about it and - well, tickets, they're super expensive now, as you'd imagine.." You sigh, turning back to look at the bottles catching the white light of the room. "jus' wanted to give him something to be happy about, you know?" You reach out to grab a 16$ bottle of wine you know is too sweet, but it'll do. trying to lift the mood, you try your hand at a joke. "guess my only option is to fuck somebody who has those tickets." you look at him and his brows are furrowed. stupid, stupid, stupid joke, stupid you.

"so-rry, didn't mean toㅡ"

"that so, pretty girl?" Those words go straight to your core, causing you to nip at your bottom lip, stiff like a stone. "Now, you can't just say somethin' like thatㅡ" Joel leans in closer "'n not answer me."

you look up at him, and you finally get a better look. there aren't many pictures of him close up on the internet, mostly grainy ones where you can barely make out his tattoos. you gulp, eyes traveling across his face: a brow piercing, a full beard with patches of gray, a neck tattoo with a ravenㅡ he looked surreal.

"y'gonna answer me, angel-face? or do i need to pull out those words myself?" god, you were practically dripping on the linoleum of the store, cheeks ablaze and words tangled in your throat.

"I'm ㅡ" he traces his inked fingers across the exposed part of your neck, chuckling at your demeanor. "I live 5 minutes away." you blurt out, causing his eyes to widen. "maybeㅡ come over?" god, what were you doing? you sure hope not to regret your words later. but right now, two things you knew for certain: you were way too turned on, and he was way too hot for his age.

Joel smirks, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Well, darlin', seems like fate's on your side today." He grabs the bottle of wine you were holding, examining it. "I ain't lettin' you drink that, girl." he scoffs, picking up a bottle of Giulio Ferrari from 1992, not even looking at the price. "Let me spoil you a bit, yeah." you can't even say a word, you pathetically whine, as your knees wobble like jelly.

Joel puts the hoodie over his head and looks down at you, his firey stare making your cheeks burn up all over again. "y'know the lady?" he asks, motioning his head towards Sammy who was busy playing Rummy on her phone. "I do, old familyㅡ well, like family." He nods, patting your shoulder, "you go ahead, wait f'me in front of the store by that coffee machine. I'mma pay real quick, yeah?" you nod so fast, way too excited with those butterflies tying knots in your stomach, you head to the door.

"Bye, Miss Sammy!" you wave, and she just hums and gives half of a wave back "buh-bye, sugar." too fixed on her phone. As Joel pays for the bottle of wine, he glances back at you exiting the store.

"Lead the way, darlin'. Let's see if we can work something out." and oh, the way those words make you drip in anticipation. the way you were so eager to have his hands all over your body- those tickets were the last thing on your mind right now. You both head towards your house, the cold air adding a sense of urgency to the situation. You couldn't believe how needy he made you with just a few words. Small talk fills the short journey, with Joel sharing stories from the road and you nervously responding.

Once inside your home, Joel looks around appreciatively. "Cozy place you got here." you nod, leading him to the kitchen. "your daddy home?"

"no.." you fumble your steps as you hurriedly put two glasses on the counter for Joel to fill up with wine. Joel smirks, sensing the tension in the air. "Just us, then," he says, pouring the wine into the glasses. The rich aroma of the aged wine fills the room as he hands you a glass. "Cheers to unexpected encounters," he toasts, clinking glasses with you. The wine is exquisite, but the real intoxication is the electrifying presence of Joel. Tattoos adorned his body, his fluffy hair laid perfectly, strands of gray standing out; the way his muscles bulged through his shirtㅡ you could see it all better now.

"feels like you're about to eat me, baby. way you're starin' me down." joel chuckles. "sorry I'mㅡ sorry." you nervously sip from you glass trying to put out the fire in your core, his voice making it ten times harder for you. "now, how you gonna get what you want if you get so shy on me, hm?"

joel steps closer to you, and your chest burns, heaving up and down as his arms snake around your waist and settle onto your tummy. "ain't you a big girl? thought you were- how you so eagerly invited a stranger ㅡsuch an old man into your home when your daddy ain't around." he rubs through you, a squeaky whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his bulge against you. "oh, she likes that, don't she?" you breathe out "god.."

"not god, baby..jus' me." he chuckles murkily.

"please..." you plead, palms now on top of his as you slowly turn your head to expose your neck further. "please what, babygirl?"

"please, sir..t-touch me." you back your body further, prompting joel to groan and tighten his grasp on you. "jesus, girl." he laughs "dirty little thing." his rough hands make their way under your lace trimmed long-sleeve, grasping at you breasts.

"no bra, baby?" he asks, swirling his thumbs across your sprung up nipples, and you moan a quiet 'no'. "what if your daddy walks through that door right now, huh?"

"dont care..." you lean more into his touch, intoxicated from it and his scent, a hint of smoky wood, and a touch of muskㅡ he smelled delicious. you couldn't wait to have him on your tongue.

"'course you don't. needy little whore wants an old man to fuck her senselessㅡ need me to fill ya up with this cock til you're dumb and can't think no more." you moan, so eagerly shaking your head as you press your ass onto his hard-on, getting joel to wrap his thick fingers around your throat and spin you around to face him. "not so fast, girl. wanna see ya beg, can you do that f'me angel?" his graps grow rougher, and you mewl out a string of yes, yes, yes, whilst dropping to your knees, as he instructs

"eyes up, babyㅡ there she is." joel strokes your face before delivering a harsh slap onto your already red cheek. moaning, you rub your thighs together as to evade just a bit of pressure in your cunt. "pretty little slut. so pretty like this." he growls, taking a handful of your hair "go on now. beg. tell sir how bad you need his cock."

and you do. you beg and plead, press your face against his thigh like a little puppy. you don't take you eyes off of his, prompting yourself with his boot under your clothed cunt. "please, sir.. v'been so good..." and you start moving slowly, cheek now flush against his crotch. you moan and rut against him, heat washing over your whole body. you wanted to make him proud, you dont know what came over youㅡ you were so drunken and you didn't know if it was because of the wine or because of joel.

the way he stared down at you, his pupils almost like an eclipse to his hazel eyes, lips half hidden behind his mustache. The way his piercing gaze holds yours, unwavering and commanding; he was rough and enticing, mean in just the right wayㅡ his voice dripped like honey and you couldn't hold but lick it up and let it poison you through and through.

"atta girl." you looked so vulnerable. so innocent. so raw and ready for him to taint and infect you with his all. he unbuckled his pants, leaving them a bit open at the top, perfectly for you to see the strain his thick cock put onto his briefs. "c'mon. don't make me wait, baby..." you didn't need to hear more, eagerly pulling out his erect length, letting it slap onto his clothed belly. you could drool at the sight, all though you're pretty sure you already were. he was bigㅡ huge even, the biggest you've ever seen. it was girthy and had veins running down it, tip red, dripping with precum. "too b-big-" you manage to let out. "you'll make it fit, puppy. for me, yeah? c'mon, let me fuck that pretty mouth." and you softly reply with 'yes, sir' before he yanks at your hair and directs his dick right between your lips. "open. widee openㅡ there you go." he encourages you as you try your best to fit that monster into your mouth. it hurts and your chin stings as joel slowly stars to thrust his length into you mouth- or at list what fits of it.

"pretty slut. look so good with her mouth full of cock." joel hums as you whine around him. "like this cock, baby?" he knows you can't answer, mouth too full and brain to fuzzy. "so cock stupid, can't even speak." he laughs. you've never felt like this, god, not even imagined something like this. yet there you were with someone who's twice your age fucking your mouth. "what would your daddy say?" you whine and squeeze around nothing, nails digging into the back of his knees. joel can only laugh as he puls out, rubbing his tip over your lips to collect the drool that mixed with his precum, and smear it all over your rosy cheeks.

you felt so dirty. but it felt rightㅡ for a good cause, right?

he slaps your face with his length before pulling you up by your hair, bending you over the kitchen counter. "gonna let me fuck you, babygirl?"

"yes-" you wriggle into his hold. "yes, what?" hes prying "yes, sir." you obediently reply. "good fuckin' pup." he doesn't even haltㅡ joel pulls down your pants at once with your panties. he delivers a harsh slap before trailing his digits right between your legs. "poor lil' cunt. look at 'er." he coos. "crying for this cock."

"please, sirㅡ mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy bitch. you take what i give you, understand?"

"y-yes, sir, pleaseㅡ" he clicks his tongue before kneeling, spreading your pussy lips as he does, leaning in and blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up. "want you to come 'round my cock. want you to come while i stuff you up nice 'n good." you nod, not even half sure what you heard, you were too dizzy and the sudden lack of stimulation drove you mad.

joel positions himself behind you, lifting your leg up so one of your knees rests onto the counter. he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, wanting to pull more from you, to get you even needful. you couldn't barely muster to hold yourself up, letting all of your weight on Joel, deprived pleads rolling of your tongue.

when he's content with the teasing, he starts to ease into you. it's like you're awakened from a trance, fully aware of everything, and every fiber of your body. it all vibrates as a sting spreads through your body, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckkㅡ so fuckin' tight, baby- I'd think were a virgin if i didn't know what a cock slut you actually are." he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby"

and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your leg up and one pressing you face flush on the cold surface of the counter. "like that? like it when an old man has his way with ya, huh?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and spine arched as he plummets into your cunt. "fucked you stupid, huh? dirty girl." joel snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly. "feel." and, fuck, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis; you feel it and you're jelly all over again.

he takes both his arms and hold you by your shoulders, hit after hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy. "wanna come, pup? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come.

"come then, make me proud, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost at once. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth as he leaves bruises onto you, you wish would never go away.

"need'a come babyㅡ shit! where, tell me where baby." you feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up. you usually don't say this. "in-side- inside, sir, please.." you beg, and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed into you, causing you to lick your lips as if you could taste it. Joel holds himself over you, panting as he trails soft kisses onto your back. "did so good, babygirl." you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his.

"soㅡ" he makes a pause. "you still want those tickets?"

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hoohououiuoooio hi guys im kind of pretty obsessed with joel rn so i gotta quench my thirst. this has 3.1k words. hope u like it!! muahhhh thank u again for 150!!!! if u see any grammatical errors no u didn't.

#joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fic

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girlbossblackbeard · 1 year ago

Text

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 predictions #ofmd s2 trailer

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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My dad gave a baseball cap and jockstrap for Christmas. What am I supposed to do with these?

I didn't really expect anything else. It was clear that my stepmother's two sons were given plenty of presents for Christmas. Mike had received an incredibly expensive racing bike and Luke ski equipment and a skiing vacation over New Year's Eve. To only get a cap and a jockstrap was really humiliating. But the jockstrap wasn't even wrapped. And it's obviously worn. And it stinks. Why doesn't my stepmother just tell me to fuck off and that they want to celebrate Christmas alone? "Come on, Cinderella, why don't you try it on? I bet it's far too big for your pathetic cock." Luke goaded me. Okay, now it didn't matter anyway… I'll give them the show they want. Tomorrow I'm going back to university anyway…

I go up to my room and undress. And then put on the jockstrap. At first I thought the waistband was too tight and the cup was indeed much too big. But the jock actually fits like a glove. My cock seems to like its new home. It's half stiff and it's leaking precum. It feels so hot. I immediately had to start kneading the bulge. The skin of my hand somehow looks much darker against the yellowed white of the jockstrap. Where the hell did the tattoos come from? I stand in front of the mirror. But it's not me anymore. I'm slim, wiry, muscular. Tattooed like a gangster. That's right, I look like a Latino gangster. The precum leaks stronger and stronger. I can't stop kneading this bulge. I bet the cap looks really hot too.

The family I work for as a gardener pays like shit. At least officially. But the extra income is great. I fuck the nymphomaniac mom at least three times a week. I supply the two degenerate sons with all the drugs they can afford. And the weakling of a father can't get enough of blowing me. The four idiots sit around the Christmas tree giggling. I pop in to see them again and ask if they still need my services. Otherwise, I get dressed and go out to celebrate with my friends. Christmas with the gringos is boring. Only Latinos know how to really celebrate.

You always find the best Latino pics @yeahthatsmypapi

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #race change

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secretlovezz · 1 year ago

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Simon with an s/o who has a cat prt.2

All of you guys had such great ideas for how Simon and the cat would interact with each other so I tried my best to incorporate all of them into this little prt.2 🫶

Prt.1 here! <-

Simon can never seem to find his balaclava after he stays the night at your place

Probably because your cat steals it

Simon spends forever trying to look for his things only to find them burrowed away in the cat's tree tower

When he tries to get the stuff back the cat latches onto his arm claws digging into his skin and teeth piercing through his tattoos

When you walk into the living room the first thing you notice is the absolute mess that it's become in the 20 minutes you have been showering. The cushions and decorative pillows that once adorned your sofa are now scattered haphazardly on the floor the cabinets and drawers in the TV stand are now opened and the cat's toys and bedding are everywhere.

You stand there for a moment in shock before throwing your head back and taking a deep breath preparing yourself for the worst.

Fully walking into the living space you see Simon on the floor elbow-deep in the cat cubby connected to the cat tree looking for something.

"Simon Riley." Your voice is so eerily calm it makes your boyfriend tense and his face pulls into a wince. He slowly pulls his arm from the cubby and as he pulls his arm out your cat is attached to its bunny kicking and biting the already irritated skin while low growls emitted from its mouth.

Simon clears his throat so he won't sound as worried as he is, "yes dove?"

He would never admit this to anyone but Simon had been a little scared of you at this moment. He could practically feel the annoyance radiating off of your body and gulped at the sight of your raised brow and crossed arms.

You simply stare at him waiting for an answer to the question he knows is running through your head.

"I was lookin' for my balaclava when I saw this little shit," He tilts his head to the cat still latched onto his arm, "draggin' it into his little hideaway."

You continue to stare at him.

"...I'll clean up the mess, my love"

Sometimes when Simon tries to get in some extra sleep (really he just wants to cuddle you longer) the cat will plop itself right onto Simon's face and curl up into a ball

Sometimes simon falls back asleep with the cat on his face

You have a shit ton of pics of it (one of them is your lock screen background)

Simon is literally inhaling fur lmao

It's early, the sun just finally peaking over the horizon, seeping into the bedroom and through the sheer curtains. It's quiet in the apartment and Simon finds it calming with the accompanied feeling of your sleeping body on top of him like a dead weight.

Your cheek is squished against his chest causing your lips to part. You were drooling onto his skin but he wasn't too worried about it; not wanting to wake you up earlier than you were used to. He's taking in this moment, just being close to you after having been away for way longer than he would have liked but the moment is quickly ruined by the sound of the bedroom door squeaking open.

He groaned and closed his eyes; moving a hand to stroke down his face. He wrapped his arms around you squeezing tight in preparation for the fight over you with your cat.

When he felt the bed dip by his feet the by his thigh and then felt a wet nose hit his cheek he groaned again.

He can't move, no he won't move because, again, he doesn't want to wake you up not when you look so beautifully peaceful and snuggled up against him.

So he just lets it happen. He lets that stupidly annoying ball of fur plop onto his face blocking his airway. He can still breathe, taking in air through the thick fur of your cat. After a while, he tries to move his head to get the cat off of him but the cat moves to reveal its claws, moving them onto Simon's skin.

Simon gives up.

When Simon's laying down the cat definitely jumps up and throws all his weight onto Simon's crotch

The number of times you've seen your boyfriend doubled over in pain and the cat strutting away from him is worrying

"Fuckin 'ell!"

A yell from your lover was never a good sign, especially since the man wasn't a very loud person around you at least. So when you hear the pained howl from Simon you just about drop everything to get to him.

When you arrive in the living room you see your man doubled over, face by his knees and hands covering his lap. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes squint at the furball on the couch next to him.

If simon had any say in it he'd say the cat was smirking at him.

He takes a deep breath and sits back up and your at his side in an instant worried he's in pain from something that had happened during his last deployment.

"Babe? Baby are you okay?" Your hands are clutching at his face moving his head around to look for injuries you might not have noticed before.

"Your fuckin' cat jumped on me," He replies.

You are still a little out of breath from your run to him so the next word to leave your mouth is rushed, "What?" But then your eyes scan him and his hands are still covering his crotch.

You sigh.

"Jesus Si, I thought you were hurt."

His head snaps up to look at you, "What do ya mean? I was hurt, your cat hurt me."

You roll your eyes, kiss his forehead, and walk away.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii x reader #simon riley fluff

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nebulousbrainsoup · 7 months ago

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this man. and these pics. holy mother of fuck. i have no sfw thoughts in my head. mdni. gn!reader.

bc where has he been hiding all of this?? all of that toned, lithe muscle. you've caught glimpses before, of those pretty, thick, strong dancer's legs in his shorts, and you don't know why the hell it wouldn't have crossed your mind that the rest of him would look like this. the little glances you'd caught of him in his tank tops mid-practice or mid-workout had never clued you into just how delectable he'd look with his shirt off.

you can't help yourself. when he dips under the water once more, you quietly slip into the pool beside him, and the moment he resurfaces, your arms are twining around his slim waist and your chest is pressing to his back. he jolts for a moment, a bright grin painting his features as a shrill giggle leaves his lips. he turns, pressing a quick kiss into your hair when you don't let him turn to face you.

"jagi—" he began, quickly cut off with a gasp as you sink your teeth into the meat of his shoulder. for a moment, you hear his breathless, amused chuckle, but it's quickly cut off by a broken sigh as your hands come up, thumbs brushing one after the other over his nipples. "jagiya."

you hum against his skin, sucking the beginnings of a mark into it. he moans this time, back arching as he leans back against your shoulder. you pull back with a sweet little pop, soothing over the sting with your tongue as he whines. the sound echoes off of the tiles, and both of you sigh at the sound. once more, he jolts, squirming as one of your hands sneaks lower, toward the waistband of his swim trunks until your fingers are slipping under the elastic.

wooyoung reaches back, a hand tangling into your hair as your mouth finds a place on his other side to work another pretty, pink mark. when you pull back, you sigh, grinning at the sight of the two marks now bordering his tattoo. pressing your lips to it, you sigh, mirroring his gasp as your hand finally slides fully under his swim trunks to cup his half-hard cock.

"i love you, my wooyoungie," you murmur as you wrap your fingers around his shaft, toying with him loosely.

he shudders, his grip in your hair tightening as he chokes out, "i... i love you t-too..."

yeah man. idk. blame @justhere4kpop @pocketjoong and @bro-atz for the brainrot. also wooyoung himself. i'm unwell.

#it thinks 😈#ateez hard thoughts #wooyoung hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #wooyung hard hours #neb.atz.hh #neb.atz #nebulous writes #good fucking god he awakened my love for shoulders #i wanna eat him #wooyoung #jung wooyoung

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orangeinecstasy · 1 year ago

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i need more of those 5sos thoughts!!!!

bf ashton thoughts ⋆ฺ｡*:･

a/n: ask and you shall receive!!! i swear i've been seeing so much ash content so ofc i had to do him next. he also happens to be my 5sos lane which makes it even better. fluff and smut sections included in this one!!

so so so many beach days. he loved when you record a wave he caught while surfing and it doesn't hurt that you're wearing a bathing suit either

big gift giver. always brings you fresh flowers and makes sure to keep on to know when he needs to rebuy them. picks up little trinkets that he thinks you'll like and tries so hard to package them up cutely but ends up failing. but it's the thought that counts!!

100% tries to teach you how to play the drums, even if its just a simple beat

late night spontaneous dates are a normality when being with him. could be anywhere from going to a park and stargazing to diving into the city and going to a bar

he wants to show you off 24/7. like he doesn't have one picture "this is my partner" picture, its a whole album that he's showing to people because he can't believe you're all his

meditating together

guarding together

tbh just being outside and being in nature together would be a big thing for him

not a super huge pda person but BIG on physical touch

so so so many songs written about you. if they didn't end up on a 5sos album he would totally curate his own and dedicate it to you

tons and tons of inside jokes

would 100% get a tattoo for you. i don't think it would specifically be your name, but maybe some art you produced or something that reminds him of you, etc

not a super big pet name user, but sometimes he'll sprinkle them in

smoking together>>>

smutty/suggestive thoughts below the pics

its always ass or tits, and though ashton definitely loves both i feel like he's more of a thigh guy. they way they're so plush and he can squeeze them and mark them to his liking. how they look in skirts or dressed or when they they're over his shoulders. he can't get enough of them

100% puts you're pleasure first. if he comes, great! but he's so focused on you and making sure that you're experiencing as much pleasure as possible

on that note-- he loved to eat you out. your taste, your smell, the way your hands grip at his hair and his name falls from his lips is just intoxicating for him. he also can't deny how much it boosts his ego knowing that he can make you come with just his mouth

so many suggestive comments when you're with a group of friends. he loves watching you get riled up and pressing your thighs together by his words

he's such a tease oh my god. like you know something is about to happen just by how his eyes shift and that smirk that he can't seem to wipe off his face

such a slut for you. he wants you anywhere all the time. doesn't matter who's around, before a show- after a show, he needs you.

thigh riding!!!

so much casual dominance omg. driving you guys everywhere, constantly trying to find ways to help you, helping you pick out outfits. ugh i can't stop thinking about it

don't think he's a huge lingerie guy, but he really appreciated it when you take the time to pick out a set and doll yourself up

cannot get enough of bondage and blindfolds. both using it on you or you using it on him

obsessed with marking-- he wants people to know he's yours and you're his. like i can just imagine him posting a picture on his instagram story where his hair is all messy and his lips are plump from friction, neck littered with hickeys. he would probably delete it after a couple of minutes because the pr team would actually freak out, but it was most definitely worth it in his book.

high sex

likes to take his time, but doesn’t mind a quickie

cuddles that turn into sex that end up with you two curled back together asleep

love love loves kissing. how simple it can show your affection for someone and how it can be innocent and turn into something more

sleepy sex!!! early mornings or late at night when he’s back from the studio and just needs to be as close to you as possible

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theharddeck · 2 years ago

Text

talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?

Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)

Length: 7.8k

A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without

You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point.

“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room.

Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”

Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.

“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care.

Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…

“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”

“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.

“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”

Jake had the grace to look guilty for a moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”

In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory.

Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand.

“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”

Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”

Had you said that?

It sounded like something you’d say.

But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.

It was a wonderful two minutes.

Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.

Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.

“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.

You did stop fidgeting, though.

“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.

Was it hot in here?

It had to be hot in here.

Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.

You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.

(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit).

On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.

You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”

He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder.

He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin.

Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again.

“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone.

“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”

“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.

“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper.

“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”

“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right.

“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing.

“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch.

You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid.

“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”

“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”

You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar.

Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?

That wasn’t true.

Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh.

Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness.

Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even.

This was fine, this was normal.

This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs.

He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.

“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice.

Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest.

“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”

He was interrupted, of course.

Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it.

He froze.

Shit.

“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”

You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes.

“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile.

“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”

Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong?

Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.

“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”

Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.

Fuck, he was going to ruin you.

“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours.

You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy.

Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again.

You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin.

“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”

You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn’t know what you felt.

“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin.

“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”

Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good.

With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again.

“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”

“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed.

“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration.

He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again.

“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”

Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”

Well, fuck, when he put it like that…

“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you.

“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him.

He didn’t look away from you.

His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again.

“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue.

He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.

“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”

You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you.

He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked.

“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—

Jake pulled back.

You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes.

“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing.

You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded.

“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”

“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.

“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”

Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you.

No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”

You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it.

“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded.

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again.

“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.

“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”

Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders.

“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened.

“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully.

“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt.

You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind.

“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.

Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.

“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were.

“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.”

“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you.

“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”

He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?

What was anything, what did he need?

“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”

“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”

“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”

His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.

“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you.

God, and you hadn’t even had him yet.

“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you.

“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you.

You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face.

You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows

He looked proud.

He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away.

“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”

You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.

More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours.

Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him.

You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.

It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you.

You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them.

In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better.

“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.

Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head.

“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”

“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”

You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting.

Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you.

Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel.

And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.

“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”

When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath.

Sweet man.

You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you.

“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground.

“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.

Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?

You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free.

“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away.

No wonder he walked around like he did.

As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth.

But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine.

You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself.

“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.

“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this.

“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again.

Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making.

You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly.

It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in.

You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you.

There it was.

You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight.

“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.

You felt like he could see straight through you.

That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you.

Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air.

The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him.

You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.

Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”

You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”

He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core.

“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”

“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you.

It was a good thing he was holding you up.

Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be.

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.

“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”

His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you.

You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.

“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”

He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it.

Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa.

Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you.

You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts.

Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.

“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”

You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked.

When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much.

“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”

“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch.

“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?”

“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”

“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”

“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”

You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”

“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”

He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe.

Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down.

You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs.

You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed.

You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up.

tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger

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