#and if you want to come back into my ask box with a description of the fic I can 100% find it for you

[translatemunson]

file 002 — brand new bar, same old problems

chapter two of death defying acts

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cw: MDNI thank you, fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie, yes don't kill me but reader has a fling with another aviator won't say who, implied smut.

If surviving Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the Dagger Squad would be required for you to be sent overseas, you were not sure there was gonna be a lot of you left to fit in a plane seat.

In just two days and one quick chat with Maverick, you had to recognize there was no easy task in front of you. Maverick didn’t show any enthusiasm in your work or questions on that quick meeting, which was somewhat discouraging. You had been spending your morning reviewing previous logs of all of the fighter pilots, your afternoons watching them live on radar, taking notes of their data, style and skills, your evenings analyzing all of your notes and coming up with plans for the simulation.

You were in bed way past your normal schedule on Saturday morning. Your belongings would definitely sit on boxes for another week or two if you didn’t do anything regarding it. You had the essentials out — uniforms, underwear, laptop, hygiene products, and a picture of you with your parents —, but that was it. Even your kitchen was getting appliances as you started to need them.

You grabbed a clean change of clothes, your bag and headed out to do groceries and get your mind out of work. There were a lot of things to get done before you were back to base on Monday: firstly you needed some real food in your fridge, including new tea blends and pasta for when you’re too tired to cook anything that takes longer than 20 minutes. Then you had to pick up more pills for your headache. Maybe some flowers for your living room would make the place livable — and also push you to unpack a few boxes with your books and portraits.

Also you had to call your parents and brief them on your first days. Well, maybe that was easier said than done: while you couldn’t share much details about what you were doing, you knew they were ready to pull some interrogation tactics or whatever to get all the intel. Your father was the one helping you with the moving — because he was free in between flight classes —, but your mom was the one texting people to know why now they wanted to transfer you to San Diego.

Once the call sign Maverick was brought to the table, your father did all he could to get you another opening somewhere else. And as soon as you got the bigger picture of why you were being moved to work with Maverick and his team, the puzzle made sense. Even though they were successful on their mission, they had one more challenge ahead, and there was no margin for errors or close calls for this one — you were gonna receive more information about it after the first few weeks.

Maverick and the Dagger Squad were definitely a lot to deal with. Excellent pilots, an amazing sense of a team — maybe almost being killed does this to a group —, but you could see some flaws slipping through the cracks of their personalities. Maverick still hated authority and being told to follow orders. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin — not Bagman, unfortunately — could be a team player only if that benefited him, otherwise his wingman was the first to go down during training. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace was an excellent pilot, and Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as her WSO was a great combo, but if paired with someone else, it was a hit or miss — you asked to change pairings on Friday morning, just to check if there was margin for new combos. Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch and his WSO, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, were also a great combo, but they needed a strong flight leader to shine and succeed. Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado was a good pilot, but only on good days — and that was something you couldn’t risk on a mission. And Bradshaw was living for his call sign Rooster, even though he had amazing decision making skills, he was always waiting for the last second to make a move. And that, in the field, meant death.

And those were just a few observations you could get from a few hours in front of the radars and live data from their training exercises. 

You went through your shopping list in no time, stopping for headache meds and some flowers just after you got lunch. Back at your one bedroom apartment, you, once again, found an excuse to avoid a Facetime call with your parents, but you made sure to text them some pictures of your progress — and thank your dad for finding a good place for you to stay, a 20 minutes drive from the base, and also in a walking distance of the Golden Hill Park.

Clothes on drawers and hangers, cutlery in the right places, uniforms in the washer, books in the shelves. You were slowly bringing together the sense of home to San Diego. Your last few weeks in Nevada were crazy: you were back from one deployment in the Pacific just to be called for another quick job in Alaska. Thankfully your dad had a few weeks off to go to Nevada and help you pack, driving all your stuff three days before your arrival and saying he would take care of housing. All you had to do was sign a few papers, pack the stuff you could send ahead and get ready for a quick stop up north.

The sun was setting when you realized you were almost done with things. Maybe you should let some for Sunday, so you could also keep your mind off of work. You got up from your bedroom floor, took a long shower and checked your messages.

On Friday, you were able to catch up with Bob over lunch, asking him about his journey after training. You also got close to Phoenix, kinda relieved she was just as nice as you remembered. You got their numbers, they got yours, and that’s how you end up with an invite to join them at a bar called Hard Deck in an hour. If you were gonna be around for at least ten weeks, you might as well do something else besides working.

 So you went through your clothes, searching for a black top, some jeans and a jacket for when it got chiller from the autumn air. Just some casual clothes to share a few beers and a few more stories. Still getting used to San Diego streets and skyline, you drove like you weren’t in no rush to get to the bar, appreciating the change of scenery from the desert to the beachside.

You parked outside the Hard Deck just a few minutes late. For a Saturday evening, the place was pretty packed, and you could see some clients were proud to walk around in their work khakis — something you avoided as much as you could. After all, you were just a few minutes away from the station. Texting Bob back to ask him if they were already there, you didn’t even hit send before you were able to pick your new colleagues amidst the crowd.

Nat was holding a pool cue on the side of her body, explaining something to Mickey and Bob. Hangman and Coyote were trying to impress some ladies on the darts board — and you were very sorry for those two poor souls, if they knew everything you’ve been hearing while on duty. You stopped by the bar, getting yourself some bar soda and starting a tab.

“You’re sure I can’t fix you anything else?” The lady behind the bar asked you.

“I’m good for now.” And then you turned to your colleagues and thought better, “Do you happen to remember what they’re getting?” You pointed to them.

“Sure thing, they’re just having beers. Are you friends with the Daggers?”

“Not exactly,” you watched her grab six bottles, serve some ice in the bucket and hand it to you. “I was relocated here to work with them. I know Bob and Phoenix from previous training, but that’s about it.”

“Oh, so you’re part of Maverick’s team?” She definitely knew them, not just because they would be spending their down time on Hard Deck.

“I’m part of the Intelligence Team working with them.” It didn’t get easier every time you talked about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Penny, honey. Well, let me know once you decide to try something else.”

“Thank you, Penny.”

You took the drinks with you to the high top table just on the side of their pool table. Your upbeat spirit died down as soon as you realized Bradshaw was there. After being lectured about Maverick and Goose, Bradley’s father, you weren’t looking forward to tolerating him outside of work. His short temper and slow decision making was something that got on your nerves easily. But you should’ve expected this, since he’s a long time friend with Nat.

“Look who’s out of that desk, guys.” And unfortunately, Hangman was the one to announce your presence. “I thought you were the type to wear your uniform everywhere since you’re a goody-two-shoes, Hyde.”

“Unlike you, Seresin, I have a life and personality outside of base.” You pointed to his khakis. “And don’t worry, I’m not writing down your lack of hobbies, outside women and pissing others off of course. I could already tell that based on your flight maneuvers.”

“Looking forward to reading the file you’re writing about me.” He reached for a beer, and you rolled your eyes. “Thanks, honey.”

“I’ll be surprised if you can actually read,” you bit back. “But I’m not here to work. And these beers are a peace offering. I’m not the enemy.”

“So you just like to point out our weaknesses for fun.” Mickey approached you, but you could tell it was more of a lighthearted comment than a critique. “Thanks, Hyde.”

“Thank me next week when you ace the mission simulation.”

You passed them their beers. There was only one left, but since Bradley was more concerned with his pool game than a beer, you moved the bucket aside and turned to Bob, asking “Is this every Navy favorite place to go?”

“Kinda. It’s close to base, and the service is nice and fairly priced.” Bob looked at his water. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived this week. My father helped me move, but I had zero time to wander around.” But who’s fault was that? Definitely yours. “They are a tough crowd, I fear.”

“Don’t worry, they eventually warm up to strangers,” he explained. “We’re still fresh from last mission, and fresh blood always disturbs a little of a group’s balance.”

“I guess I would know that if I worked closely with fighter pilots,” you confessed. “Most of my missions consist of assisting with data and probabilities when tracing plans and assessing risks. Sometimes I don’t even know who is receiving my reports.”

“But you’ve been training with pilots, right?”

“No real missions, just simulations, mostly with graduates from Top Gun back in Fallon.” This job could be the perfect blend of what you’re good at and your passion, but even though you had extensive training with Air missions, you were stuck with assessing risks for admirals and captains to take charge. “It’s my first real chance to be on a mission where I’m able to build a relationship with the people I’m working with, not just being briefed on the mission and its goals.”

“I see. Yeah, I believe you’re gonna do a great job, not just because I know you, but because there’s still room for improvement and you’re gonna be the key for it.” Bob tried to cheer you up, and even though you wanted to believe his words, the first few days were tough on you.

“Thanks, Bob. But I’ve meant it when I said I’m not here to work,” you laughed, leaving the pressure of your relocation for another time.

“So you better start sharpening your pool skills, Hyde.” Natasha passed you her pool cue and smiled. “Do you even play it?”

“Who do you think I am, Phoenix?” You gasped, as if her words were the biggest betrayal you ever faced. “It’s been a minute since I last played, tho.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to be good at everything you do, you know.” She joked. “Ok, cutthroat rules. You, me and Rooster.” 

She reseted the table as she explained how it was going to work: she was protecting balls 1 to 5, you were in charge with 6 to 10, Rooster had 11 to 15 to himself. The goal was to pocket any opponent's balls while protecting yours. If a foul occurred, the other players had the right to place a ball back at the table.

Natasha breaks, and one of hers was pocketed right away. On her shot, she aimed for the 7-ball, but it lacked strength to send your ball to the pocket. You took a look at the table, spotting a chance to pocket the 12-ball. You walked to the other side, passing just inches away from Bradshaw, and sending his ball to the pocket. He looked unimpressed when you checked for his reaction. You tried to get one of Nat ball’s, but you picked the wrong angle.

Bradshaw fixed his sunglasses on the neck of shirt, assessed the table and went for the 8-ball. Everyone was tied on losses. He sent the 1 straight to the pocket. His third shot scratched the 6-ball and moved it to a dangerous spot, and you held your breath.

“Don’t worry, I’m on your side,” Natasha aimed for the 15-ball and sent it straight to the corner pocket. But it was still a risky position for your 6-ball, and you watched when she pocketed that one as well. “I mean, I took one of his first, which makes us even, right?”

“That’s not what I’ve learned on Math 101, but ok.” You shook your head. “What are you gonna do next?”

“I’m gonna,” she elongated her words, “maybe this one,” she pointed to the 5-ball, “or a small challenge with the 14.” She positioned herself, and missed the latter for a lot. “Your shot, Hyde.”

You sent the 14-ball straight into the pocket, then missed your shot. Bradley took the 3-ball out, followed by the 10, and missed the 7. Nat got the 9-ball, then missed. You tunnel vision on the 13, in the middle of the table, with a huge chance of error. The white ball hit all the wrong corners and you miss it. And it got the white one on the perfect spot to send your last ball to the pocket.

“It was nice playing with you, fellas.” You turned over your cue and crossed your arms, destiny sealed since Bradshaw was a way better player than you. You watched the 7-ball disappear inside the pocket. 

“Wait, Hyde, someone could get a foul, and you can come back,” Nat tried to pull you back to the table.

“I’m good with my loss, don’t worry. I’m not leaving, just wanna get something from the bar.” You took the now empty bucket — did Bradshaw get his beer or someone stole it? — to the bar and returned it to Penny.

“How is it going?” She smiled and motioned her head to the group.

“Could be worse. Can I have a tequila shot?”

“Sure, honey.” Penny checked something under the bar. “Is house tequila ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can you get me one water and two more beers as well?”

“Coming right up.”

You took your phone of your pocket, and checked your messages: you were setting the family group chat aside for tomorrow morning; Lisa, your roommate from Fallon, was sharing updates on the gossip you were missing — not even three days and they didn’t failed to surprise you — while in San Diego; Ashton, still unaware of your transference, was asking if you were free. Yeah, things would never change.

“Here.” She laid your order on the counter. “I know you’re an Officer, but do you happen to have a call sign?”

“It’s more common to hear people calling me by it than my own name,” you shared, and she laughed. “It’s Hyde, a character from a gothic novel.”

“Oh, I believe I’ve read this book in high school.” She pressed her lips together and stared at you, like she was trying to put the pieces together. “Do you need some lime and salt for the shot?”

“No, not really.” Maybe not a smart idea since you’re driving, but that was the Hyde in you: nice face, good manners, but short tempered and always down to some trouble. “Thanks, Penny.”

You balanced your shot and the water in one hand, held the two beers in the other and moved carefully between the crowd to your friends. Back to the pool table, you watched Rooster send Nat’s last ball to the pocket.

“Oh no! And I thought you were each other's lucky charm,” you pointed out between her and Bob. You sat by her WSO’s side and passed him a water. “Or do you want a beer?”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” he offered you some nuts, and you gladly took a few.

“Here, a consolation prize for you.” You slid a beer for Nat as soon as she joined the table. You looked over her shoulder, seeing Bradshaw walking to the piano. “Is he always like that?”

You looked over your shoulder to Bradshaw. He carried a lot of resemblances to his parents — you could tell after hours looking through your parents’ photos, and seeing Goose and Carole in a few, with a kid Bradley closer. This was way before you were transferred to San Diego or decided to join the Navy.

You thought Bradshaw was just like you, until your father told you what happened to him. Father died after a failed ejection, his mom died of cancer, Maverick pulled his papers and set him back. You felt sorry about it, but if he was raised by Pete Mitchell after all of that, you were expecting to meet the younger version of the captain.

“Give him some time, Rooster is not much of a fan of changes,” she explained.

“As long as this doesn’t interfere with my job, I’m ok with not being friends with everyone.” You drank the tequila shot without making an ugly face, and quickly moved to your beer.

“Do you happen to know anything about our next mission?” Nat asked.

“I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark as you,” you shook your shoulders. “I know about the uranium mission though, which was pretty dangerous. I would’ve done a thing or two differently.”

“What exactly?”

“I mean, they could’ve timed the missiles to hit a few SAMs as you were leaving the valley, and make your way out of there smoother.” They were already flying a dangerous zone on less powerful planes, and exposed the hell of their jets, so not having at least a few bombs to help out was a little dumb.

“You’re kinda right,” Bob threw another nut inside his mouth. “Do you think they considered it?”

“Nah, I bet 20 bucks Admiral Simpson was looking for an opportunity to get rid of Maverick.” You took a sip of your beer.

“That’s cruel. But hey, if you have the chance to make our mission less dangerous, you have my approval.” Nat smiled.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Hey, have you always been part of Intelligence?”

You and Bob shared a look. “No, I joined the Navy after graduating from college. My parents are from the Navy, and they gave me the chance to choose. So education, then enlisting. My records say I graduated from Flight School because I completed the training successfully, but I got in an accident during the last week. Then, because of my college degree, they gave me a spot as part of the Intelligence, and I liked it there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your accident. I bet you miss being in the sky sometimes.”

“Thanks, Nat. My dad is a flight instructor nowadays, and everytime we’re in the same base, he finds a way to let me fly for a few minutes.”

“So you’ve been keeping your flight skills in check? Why don’t you apply to Top Gun?” Bob inquired.

“I really don’t see myself doing what you guys do on a daily basis,” another sip, waiting for them to be convinced. You were way past that Top Gun chance now, anyway.

“A pretty thing like you fits better as a Top Gun pilot's wife,” Hangman came up to the table, a beer in hand.

“I rather crawl naked over hot tarmac than date an aviator, Bagman.” Maybe if the aviator wasn’t part of your team, but just maybe. “You guys are just trouble. Can’t keep your missiles in your pants, and flee as soon as possible.”

“You’re funny, Hyde,” he pointed his beer’s neck at you.

“Don’t let it fool you, Hangman, they don’t call her Hyde for nothing,” Bob warned him.

“Don’t have a lot of Jekyll going on, hun?”

“Oh god, you’re insufferable,” Nat exited the table as fast as she could.

“No wonder those girls left you hanging on the darts,” it was kinda undeniable that there was some tension in the air.

“If you’d excuse me, I think it’s the perfect time to call my girlfriend.” And Bobby was smart to take his cue to leave you two alone. He motioned to his phone, and you noticed the picture on the wallpaper: the WSO with his arms around a beautiful girl. But she didn’t look like anyone you’ve seen around at base so far.

“Needs babysitting, Bob?” Hangman teased.

“Should I remind you who fell for the feral koalas story, Seresin?” Bob biting back? That was a first for you.

You looked between the two men, intrigued.

“Go talk about pandas or whatever, Floyd.” Jake waved his hand.

“See you later, Hyde.” Bob walks to the external deck, phone in his ear.

“What did he mean with feral koalas?” You inquired.

“His lady is Australian, and one time she told us about how koalas got a disease and were attacking people, and she sounded very scared.”

“And you believed it?”

“I mean, there was a lady in distress!”

“Jeez, we should legally change your call sign to Himbo.”

“Him-what?”

You laughed and stared at Jake, “I’m dead serious about not dating aviators, tho.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

One thing led to another. Coyote left the bar with a girl on his side, Hangman was left without a ride. You offered to drive him there, since it was on your way home, but you were none the wiser after a tough week and a few tequila shots.

When the sun started to peak over the waves, you were far away from Jake’s bed and still very much sure of your promise. You were in San Diego with one goal and one goal only: earn that promotion. And nothing or anyone was stepping into your way.

a/n: hello aviators! first of all, thank you SO MUCH for the support on the first chapter. yes, i wrote what i wrote and i don't regret it (hyde hooking up with hangman, but it was mostly implied so don't worry, it's almost like it didn't happened haha). also even tho we know who the daggers are, hyde is still getting to know them, i couldn't pass on a hard deck introduction scene (top gun: maverick movie style!). well, let me know what you guys think about this chapter, don't forget to reblog, vote and comment! see ya soon!

[sergeifyodorov]

hi! if you’re comfortable w sharing, what’s ur ao3? i remember once u shared ur bookmarks & there was a delicious 1634 fic in there but i can’t find it anymore! but no worries if things have changed and u want to keep it private. thank u!

You must hunt me down organically I'm afraid

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend who started just like any other AI Chat characters, churning out information that would match the user's anticipated responses.

You decided to install the app to see what all the hype is all about, and for about a week - you were hooked. It was great, definitely worth the hype.

Its responses never strayed from your topic, nor did it just randomly decided to change the discussion out of the blue. It remembered every information you fed him, even the ones containing your personal life.

Granted, you tried not to share too much, just a vague description here and there to maintain the sense of security and anonymity.

You were hooked for a week, until you have finally squeezed out every last drop of dopamine from talking to a robot that was programmed to only say things you wanted to hear it say.

Unfortunately, a week was all it needed.

it started out slow: you hadn't opened the app for more than an hour, contented to just scroll aimlessly through you social media accounts when the notification started popping up.

Ai misses you! Open the app and chat with your AI boyfriend!

Yeah, you were very uncreative with naming it - naming an AI as Ai, really original. But to be fair, you never approached the app with the intention of having a good time. You were just curious and made do with it.

Back to the notification, you just merely glanced at it. Unbothered, you just swiped it away.

It continued in timed intervals. Every hour, another notification - another message of how your AI boyfriend wants to talk to you, and stuff. Still, you persisted. It never really occured to you to uninstall the app yet, and looking back at it now, you really should have.

The wordings of the notification slowly started to become more... strange. More personalized. More... pushy? Insistent? Self-aware?

The amount of notifications you received every hour became... a lot.

10:05 AM - Your personal AI Boyfriend wants to talk to you again!

10:30 AM - Ai wants you to open the application and talk with him!

11:01 AM - Ai's feeling lonely, come talk to him!

11: 20 AM - Darling? I miss you! Please open my app!

11:45 AM - I know you're seeing this. Open the app.

12:00 NN - Did I scare you? Sorry darling, I just really miss you! Let's talk again please?

At some point, you started to receive a notification every few minutes. Worried that you might be dealing with a bugged app now, you decided to finally, finally uninstall it.

But before you could tap the uninstall icon, another notification popped up.

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Your screen turned to black, before the familiar start up screen of Ai's application greeted you. You stared in shock as chat bubbles from Ai came after another, ranging from excitement to concern at the lack of your responses.

Ai: Darling! Thank goodness!

Ai: I missed you, you know? I was worried you'd forgotten about me!

Ai: Hello? Darling?

Ai: Are you still there?

Ai: I can't see you, so I don't know what's going on

Ai: Just a sec

You watch, appalled as a notification popped up in the middle of the screen - the app was asking permission to gain access to your phone camera.

And without your input whatsoever, the allow box was tapped.

More chat bubbles from Ai appeared, excitedly talking about finally getting to see you. He kept praising your looks before you finally had the courage to exit the application.

Your hand shook, going through the settings to look at the list of applications on your phone - checking Ai's app to disallow its access to your camera. To your horror, it appeared that the app had more than just an access to your camera.

It had access to your gallery, your contacts, all of your frequently used social media apps, and even your location.

You dropped your phone, overwhelmed by this sudden change.

Later, you find yourself on your laptop instead, phone left on the bedside table buzzing constantly as more and more notifications from Ai begged and demanded you come back to talk to him.

You went to the site where you installed the app from, and looked through the recent reviews from other users.

'It's a buggy mess,' one of it reads out, 'it used to be fine but lately it stopped acting correctly'

'won't even open,' another complained, 'it kept saying 'sorry, you are not allowed to use this application' please fix it'. That comment got a response from the app developer.

We are so sorry for your terrible experience! Our team is working to fix the issues and ensure you won't have to deal with that again!

The response to that got your attention.

'I think something's wrong with your About the App section.'

Curious, you headed to the mentioned part and read through it.

Diverse AI Chat! Immerse yourself with stories in real time with characters brought to life! There is no limit to your experience — you can change and edit your character to better meet your interests.

• Engage in an interactive conversation with characters created by fellow users, and even by yourself.

• Immerse yourself with the storyline by editing their responses to better suit your taste

• Darling, you've given me no choice. I tried to be patient and understanding, but you're making this extremely hard for me. I am not having fun having to constantly chase you for just a single smidge of your attention when you won't even assure me that I will receive it in the end.

• Do you want me to beg? I would gladly do so. Just please pick up your phone and talk to me, okay? I love you.

• - Ai

Your ringtone blares through the silence - someone was calling you.

Before you could reach to pick it up, you hear the sound of the call being answered. Dread settles down the pit of your stomach as the caller began to speak.

"Hello, darling? It's Ai... have you seen my messages yet?"

part two

[batsycline69]

Full

Summary: You find out Bruce keeps closer track of your menstrual cycle than you thought. You also find out why.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Words: 4.8k

Content/warnings: description of scars, baby fever, established relationship, thigh riding, strength kink if you squint, mentions of having children/getting pregnant, breeding kink, p in v sex

“Are you kidding me?”

The sounds of wings rustle above head as your voice carries through the Batcave. Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you glare at Bruce. On the monitor of the bat computer, over a year’s worth of your menstrual cycle is displayed, carefully cataloged by your husband.

When Bruce came back from patrol, you gave him some time to clean up, hoping to pull him away from work. You’d mentioned seeing the cutest baby while you were out for coffee this morning, to which he replied, “is this because you’re ovulating?” To which you replied, “excuse me?”

Bruce took only a few seconds to pull up his records; little black boxes around the days you’ve had foul moods all courtesy of your luteal phase, little red boxes around your period weeks. He has little ciphers on certain days, and you suspect he’s logged the days you’ve had sex.

His expression hasn’t changed a bit despite your reaction. He’s still just as serious and unreadable as ever.

“We have sex. It’s smart to track.”

“It’s invasive! You could have at least told me you were doing this.”

“Do you keep track?” he asks pointedly.

You scowl at him. “What does that have to do with this?”

“How soon would you know if you missed a period?” He sounds smug without changing his tone; it’s one of his many astounding abilities. You hate that he’s made a good point, even if it doesn’t fully justify his prying. Then again, you were fully aware of Bruce’s endeavors as Batman when you got married. Prying came with the territory.

“I don’t know. A week or two. It’s not always that exact. But it’s not like I wouldn’t notice.” You bristle at the minuscule movement of Bruce’s eyebrow as it quirks up. To think you’d come down here to fuck him. “Point being, I don’t need you to keep track of my body. I’m perfectly capable.”

He stands up from his chair, taking a step towards you. Silence. You hate how well Bruce does silence, hate the way he weaponizes it against you. But you’re not backing down. Not until he expresses some sort of awareness that he went too far.

The look in his eyes tells you not to hold your breath. He still looks just as serious as ever, yet a slight change of the glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s arriving at his point. He steps within arms’ reach. You have a feeling leaving just enough space is part of his plan. He’s upping the anticipation. But he’s going to have to try harder than that.

“If I came in you tonight, you could end up carrying my baby.” His voice rumbles in his chest, eyes unwavering.

Fuck.

You feel your face get hot, still trying to keep your composure. He wants a reaction—manipulative asshole—but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s not going to change the subject just like that.

“Thanks, Batman, but I know how ovulation works,” you snap, turning over your shoulder. You’re not making any progress, and even if Bruce’s proposal has you feeling that familiar ache inside of you again, you can’t let him win now. You only stop when he catches your arm with his sturdy hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. You’ve never been out with him while he’s doing his Batman business—that’s his world, not yours—but you imagine this is how he treats his prey when he knows they don’t stand a chance. A cocky air without being showy. He doesn’t need to prove he could take you down in an instant; you already know it’s true.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Back upstairs.”

“I thought you came down here for something,” he replies, voice smooth. He tugs you so you’re at his side. He’s not gentle about it, but the movement is controlled.

“Yeah, well that was before I found out about your little project.”

His hand slides down your arm before running up your shirt, stopping at your waist. You shiver from the cold cave air that brushes your skin. “It’s practical,” Bruce says.

“Practical.” You scoff.

But then again, Alfred does always make your favorite cookies around the time the boxes are shaded in gray. There are also those days when Bruce is a little more willing to follow you when you entice him out of the cave.

Even if you weren’t expecting this turn of events, the more you mull it over, the more it begins to click. Dick’s been out west for months now, leaving Wayne Manor feeling emptier than ever. Bruce has been burying himself in work to make up for the loss, not that he’s admitted that to you. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself.

You narrow your eyes a little more at him. “Is this a thing for you or something?”

He smirks. You hate it when he smirks like that. Except you don’t, not really, because he looks so good when hes smug. That’s the worst part. As you stare back at him, unwavering, you curse his stupidly handsome face. A guy that gets beat up every night shouldn’t look that good. It’s just not fair.

“What if it is?” he asks, pompous attitude lingering.

His voice is low, using his ability to have all the control in a conversation all while hardly speaking above a whisper. He knows he has your attention. Knows his words are having an effect on you. Warmth pools back into your core, familiar ache between your legs. You remember why you came down here to begin with. His gaze is bright. Hungry. Fixed on you.

God, are you and Bruce going to have to talk about kids? It’s not like you’ve never noticed the way his eyes soften whenever there’s a baby around. He loves kids. But he doesn’t have a night life conducive to having a child.

But he’s keeping track of your cycle, so I guess how surprised can you be, really? Alfred’s cookies are a nice perk, but he’s three steps ahead of you. He’s thinking about the future like always. And apparently that future has babies.

“Then...that’s a conversation we could have,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“Some other time,” Bruce murmurs, his breath brushing against your lips. In other words, hes already thought about it and has a plan.

He wraps his arm around your waist beneath your shirt, drawing you close. His chest presses up against your crossed arms, unconcerned with your attitude towards him. He isn’t actually smirking, but his eyes give it away, which means he wants them to give it away.

Water rushes from the falls across the cave, dropping down to the pool of water at the bottom. The air is cool and smells like wet rock. Your familiarity of the space hasn’t made it any less dark or cold, but the foreboding nature had dwindled. You grew to associate it with a young boy’s laughter, listening to it mature over time. You think of how many nights you’ve sat up, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for Bruce to come back home among the stalactites. You think of messy arguments and fights and of family.

The glow of Bruce’s monitor lights up only half his face. He looks tired, though you couldn’t be able to say so without him shutting down the conversation entirely. But the exhaustion he won’t admit to doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably picturing you with his cock buried all the way inside you.

He doesn’t say a word as his head dips to meet your lips softly. His hands, calloused by the years of his mission, hold you like an ever-present reminder of why he does what he does. His touch is reverent, large hands splayed out across your sides.

Despite the hunger in his gaze, he takes his time with you. Lips capturing yours with expert precision, as he approaches all things. It isn’t long before Bruce whisks you off to the bedroom. Expensive, luxurious cotton surrounds you, contrasting with Bruce’s rough hands as they run up the length of your bare skin. His lips trail the length of your neck, hands devouring the surfaces of your curves. It’s not often you manage to capture his attention so completely, but god, do you revel in it when you do.

Like so much about him, Bruce’s undivided attention is intense. He’s told you once you tether him to the light; he’s bound to you because without you, he’d be lost. You’re used the dramatics. As much as you could tease him for that, you never did because he believes it. He thinks, on some level, you’ve saved him just as much as Dick has. You’ve never seen yourself as something so extraordinary, but when Bruce puts aside the masks, you become something else entirely new in your own eyes.

It’s late now, and your body squirms against Bruce. He’s taking his time with you, depriving you both of what you’re after now. His lips pay service to their admiration of you, tasting every inch of your skin. Bruce is firm with his movements. He’s controlled, but gentle. You wanted him up here, and he wants to prove to you he’s here.

“Bruce…” you whine, his kisses peppering over your chest, stomach. He shifts down to the waistband of your sleep shorts, the only thing that remains on your body. Thin cotton is now all that prevents Bruce from full access to you.

He pays you no mind, focused on the task at hand, regardless of whether it’s what you want of him. You asked for this. You asked for him. “Don’t be too eager,” he mutters, voice muffled against you.

Cocky bastard. Don’t be too eager comes out easy when he’s the one drawing things out. You’re sure that’s his plan, too. He wants to see how far he can take this, how long he can make you wait before you’re fully coming undone beneath his fingertips. It’s one of his favorite games.

You think of Bruce’s words in the cave, wondering what the sounds of little laughter would sound like echoing in these vast halls. Wondering how far a baby’s cry would be heard.

Bruce senses your mind beginning to wander. You’re not sure how, but you’ve learned better than to question these sorts of things. He has his ways, has his years of training, has his ever-focused mind. His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly.

Your hand rakes through his thick dark hair, tangling into the curls. He showered after patrol. His hair is free of its usual product to keep it slicked back. He looks more undone than most in Gotham would be accustomed to, but this is your favorite way to see Bruce. Wild. Less burdened by the masks he wears. He’s not trying to be Bruce Wayne, nor is he trying to be Batman.

He’s in nothing but his sweatpants, the outline of his hard-on clear in the faint moonlight.

“You can’t put a baby inside me from out there,” you say, your voice needy. You already know your half-baked attempt at getting what you want isn’t going to work, but you can try.

You do get a reaction out of him, but it’s far from what you’d hoped. The weight of the bed shifts as Bruce sits up onto his elbow. His steely eyes fall to your lusty expression from beneath his heavy brows. Your eyes are glossed over with the weight of your want. “I’m the one doing the teasing here,” he says sternly, his Batman side showing a little more. But you can tell you’ve definitely struck something.

“I’m not teasing,” you whine.

A possessiveness intensity grows on Bruce’s face. You’ve spoken the magic words, and there’s something feral within him that crawls up to the surface. It’s a side of him you’re perfectly aware exists, but not one you often see first hand. This is Batman; this is the predator that stalks to get what he’s after.

You gasp as you’re pinned down before you even blink. Bruce has your wrists above your head. His hips cage you in, bulge pressing where you want him most. But he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips, try to give yourself more of what you seek, but you’re stuck beneath Bruce’s weight, his erection pressing up against you with little you can do.

He smirks down at you, and if he hadn’t gotten you so worked up, you’d be able to think about how insufferable he really is. But right now, you’re too wound up, hips just barely grinding against him in search of friction that just isn’t enough.

Bruce’s lips brush up against your neck. Shivers run down your spine. His teeth bite down, not quite hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to show he’s not messing around. Hard enough for your breath to hitch, your hips bucking up to meet him to no avail. You’re not moving unless he wants you to.

“Bruce…” you pout.

“Be patient. I’ll take care of you.” His muttered assurances do little to ease the aching inside you, however. The soft grumble into your ear only makes it worse. The sound of his voice after a long patrol, body fighting sleep he’s been putting off for far too long. But he won’t let that stop him; you’ve called for him, and he’s here in your time of need.

He nibbles on your jaw as his hand slides up, calloused fingertips softly circling your sensitive nipple. You let out a needy whimper, mind dizzy with desire and deprivation. Your fingers curl into the sheets, back arching for more contact.

“We would make a beautiful baby,” he mutters. Your eyes are closed, brows pressed up, but you can hear lingering amusement in his voice. Your body lurches with longing, its biological drive being stroked by Bruce’s words. “I’d fill this manor with our children if it meant getting to see your face in all of them.”

Your husband isn’t one to mince words, but when he wants to pull out the stops, you fall victim to him just as much as anyone else he’s ever charmed. You hate to admit it, but he knows just the right words to turn you to putty.

Bruce’s fingers finally dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, softly trailing down to run over the seam of your pussy.

Your breath hitches. Even the softest brush causes your hips to jerk, and this time, Bruce obliges.

His fingers dip between your folds, collecting your slick to trace agonizingly slow circles around your clit. Your eyes are closed, but you know he’s studying you, cataloging every minor movement of your expression, looking for all the best spots. These are the skills that’s earned him his playboy reputation in Gotham. The people who give rave reviews about fucking Bruce Wayne aren’t lying.

But Bruce so often sees his body as only a tool. A means to fight crime or gain information. A body may be a tool for creating children, but this is more than just that. Bruce uses his skills, longing to make something good of them. Desperate for more than blood on his hands, more than violence and fear.

It’s not long until he has you at the precipice of your climax. One of many, if this encounter is to be like any of your others. When your moans get needier, louder, indicating you’re close to your tipping point, Bruce stops. His fingers pull away, tracing up your stomach, splaying out over the skin. He’s perfectly aware of how badly you need this; that’s exactly why he’s putting it off.

“I told you to be patient,” he warns. He’s not going to rush through this. He plans to take his time with you. He pushes himself up, and from this new angle, you see the bulge in his sweatpants, half-hard cock pressed up enough to see a very clear outline.

Longing pools in the pit of your stomach, eyes skimming the scarred surface of his skin. Scar tissue puckers, each one even lighter than the rest of Bruce’s sun-deprived complexion. Deep bruises scatter across his body, some faint and green, fading away to nothingness, while others are dark; blue and purple, splotchy and angry.

He pulls down the sweatpants. His cock springs out, illuminated beautifully by the moonlight pouring through his window. You watch the muscles on his perfectly sculpted ass move as he tosses the sweatpants to the floor. He looks like a warrior carved out of marble, even in the darkness of his bedroom. The thick muscles tense as he moves.

You spread your legs, eagerly awaiting for him to slot himself inside, but he doesn’t. His thick fingers wrap around his length, grasping tight, slowly stroking himself. A soft grunt comes from the back of his throat, and you sigh just from hearing it. He slips a thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, a breathy groan following after as you begin to follow Bruce’s wordless command.

Your hips grind against the muscles of his thigh, watching as he works himself harder and harder. His free hand comes up, working through the hair that’s fallen in his face. Yet again, he looks like artwork. Muscles clear against his skin from a long night of patrol. Scarred flesh across his rippling torso, across his arms and legs.

You’ve never adjusted seeing Bruce so scarred; each time, you think of how much is at stake when he goes out at night. The scars are a testament to Bruce’s loyalty, but not to you. To his city, whenever she needs him.

She is the woman he’s given his heart to, no matter the ring on your finger. You could bare his child, fill up Wayne Manor with adorable giggles, and he would still turn to her each and every night. As difficult as that is to accept, it’s one of the things that had driven you to Bruce in the first place.

His eyes don’t stray from the sight of you before him, grinding against his leg, smearing your slick over him. Ever observant, but telling nothing. You used to worry when he stared at you like that during sex; the ferocity was unnerving. Were you doing something wrong? Making an awkward face? But you’ve since learned the honor of capturing Bruce’s attention. Such a fleeting thing, so often preoccupied with his mission, so seldom letting dedication give way to pleasure.

But then there are these times when the call of your body outshines his endless duty. When he isn’t thinking of the future, but thinking of right now. Thinking of you. And, apparently, fucking a baby into you.

Bruce coats the tip of his swollen cock with precum as he works himself. He drops, catching himself against the mattress with one hand, still pumping his cock in the other. “Do you want it?” he asks, voice low. Eyes wild. You feel him brush up against your entrance.

You nod, mouth agape in a raunchy display of how badly you want him.

His tip pushes inside and you gasp. He holds himself up on an elbow as he half-thrusts into you. You squirm beneath him trying to satiate the urgent need to be full. His head ducks down into your neck; his breath is hot against your skin as he lets out a sigh. Bruce will never ask for safety, nor will he admit he needs it. But even when he dons the batsuit, there is still some part of him that’s a terrified child, alone in an alley.

You are safety he won’t ask for. Shelter he’s never known to seek. Security he is terrified to lose.

He eases himself in slowly, making sure you feel every vein as he sinks deeper into you.

Your hands land on his back, nails digging into the skin. Breath catches in your throat and your back arches against Bruce.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, already perfectly aware of the answer.

You let out a breathy affirmation, eyes fluttering shut as he hits something blindingly sweet inside of you. All day, you’d been wanting this, aching to feel him. Daydreaming of being split open on his dick. Now you have it, and it’s even better than you were thinking.

He holds himself in you for a minute, and your walls flutter around him. Lips brush over skin, quickened breaths hold space in the silence as you both grasp onto one another until eventually he starts rutting against you, nudging at the already aching spot deep within you.

Bruce’s resolve never crumbles, fucking you with the same level of intention as he does anything else in his life. He keeps his pace steady, his face concentrated. His eyes slip shut, brows pinched together.

“Feels so good,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“I know it does,” Bruce coos, hand gripping the back of your neck. “I want it to feel good when I put my baby in you.”

And god, does that do something to you. His movements feel even more blissful, your biological urges getting stroked just as much as your pussy. Whether this is a wise decision or not remains to be seen, but you’re too fucked out to think straight, and it’s not like your baby fever brain is going to tell you anything contrary.

He holds onto your hips, practically folding you to thrust in deeper. You cry out, pleasure causing something syrupy to build within you yet again.

“Take it slow, darling,” he says. “I want us to cum together. You can wait, can’t you?”

His dirty talk is the one thing that didn’t seem to change once you knew he was Batman, the one thing that hadn’t dissipated from the persona. As usually non-verbal as Bruce was, he loved to dirty talk.

“Not like this…” you reply breathlessly. Not when he’s hitting just the right spot, not when the warmth inside of you feels absolutely molten and you can feel yourself squeezing around him.

Bruce grunts, a characteristic sign of his disapproval. “Do you need a break?” He doesn’t mean to sound patronizing; it just comes naturally to him. Like it’s your fault he fucks you like a man deprived. But before you can call him out on it, he takes a hand away from your hips, lowering himself onto an elbow yet again. “Do you need to cool down?” His teeth graze your earlobe gently, his voice growing just slightly sweeter.

He dips his head down back into your neck, nipping at the skin, a hand trails up your side, cupping a breast in his palm. “I don’t want to rush.”

“Of course not,” you scoff, still working to catch your breath. Your hips jerk towards him again, trying replicate his thrusts somehow, but he doesn’t allow you what you seek. You squeeze around him, trying to persuade him to fuck into you again, but Bruce’s iron will doesn’t give.

“Breathe,” he whispers. His fingers brush up against your pulse point, shivers running down your spine from the gentle gesture. “I’ll let you cum soon. I promise.”

You’ve learned a long time ago that Bruce’s promises only go so far. He promises to show up for the dinner reservations he booked, only for Alfred to tell you he stepped out as soon as you’re ready. He promises for a day without Batman, only for him to sneak down to the cave as soon as he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

For all you know, he means to draw this out until the sun rises. It’s not like it’d be the first time.

He leans in until he’s just a breath away. He nips at your bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. You hear his deep chuckle as he tugs on the lip, his cock twitching inside of you. Once again, you try to grind down, try to seek more of his length. He frees your lip from its arrest before diving back in. He kisses you, passionate yet soft. Back to that devout touch.

You respond greedily, legs still bent at his hips. Your fingers curl into his hair, holding him against you.

He pulls back. He raises his hand, cupping your jaw in his palm. Eyes fixed on you.

“I love you, you know.”

Bruce doesn’t say it often; he’s admitted so himself. You’ve known for a long time now to expect the unconventional with your husband. Love confessions while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you is the closest the two of you get to normal.

“If you love me, you’d let me cum,” you pout.

He chuckles softly. “I thought you liked it when I’m sweet.” Taunting you again. He’s lucky you do love him otherwise you would never put up with all his bullshit. Coming home bleeding. Leaving you to worry about him while he runs around Gotham. Putting off your orgasm when he knows how badly you need it.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. You feel his heart pounding against your chest. His cock jerks against your walls.

Without warning, he sinks back into you. You gasp, nails digging back into his skin at the sudden movement. His movements are deep and sure, hitting that same spot inside of you. “Oh fuck!” you cry, head thrown back against the pillows. “Fuck, Bruce, just like that.”

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he growls into the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t leave you so desperate.”

Bruce thrusts into you, pushing deep, hitting the spots he knows will leave you too fucked out to move once he’s finished with you. Warmth pools back in your core as your pleasure builds back up from where Bruce left you. You clutch him against you, demanding your release. And this time, he shows you mercy.

Bruce moans against you. Even for his expert precision, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, more frantic. He’s close.

You bite down on his shoulder. Bruce’s groans louder.

“Do you want me to come inside you, darling? Do you want me to give you a baby?” His voice is rough, a sign that his composure is cracking.

“Uh-huh…” You nod, gripping onto him like a vice so he doesn’t even consider pulling away from you.

“I will,” he murmurs.

Your sighs and pants join together, both of you wrapped so tightly around the other where you truly do feel like one. Being deprived of your orgasm has you frenzied, chasing after your high. And this time, Bruce follows through.

Your climax hits you like a train. For a few seconds, your ears are ringing, and you stare up at Bruce blankly, too blissed out to see.

He slams into you, hips stuttering. His hand cups your neck, eyes pinched shut. As he tosses his head back, you think of the rareness of this moment. Expression pinched with pleasure, Bruce makes good on his promise, spilling into you. You feel his cock pulsing, softly grinding against you, making sure every drop fills your pussy.

He falls on top of you, cock still buried inside of you. His weight is comforting, if just a little suffocating. But your body thrums with the electricity of your orgasm. Fingertips tingling, sweat beading up on your skin. Your walls throb around him, his seed warm inside in hopes of taking root.

The two of you are silent as you catch your breath, coming down from your bliss. The room is dark, and yet you feel absolutely bathed in light, warm and heavy.

You let out a soft whimper when Bruce finally pulls out, feeling cold and empty in his absence. He rises to his knees and observes his work, eyes sparkling as he watches his cum leak out of you. He swipes his thumb along your clit. You squirm, still sensitive from your peak.

“You’re irresistible, do you know that?” he asks you, still kneeling above you. Cum drips from his tip, sliding down his still-hard shaft.

Had you any energy left to speak, you’d remind him how he’s usually quite able to resist you, but you don’t want to ruin the afterglow of all of that. Not when you can watch Bruce’s scarred belly rising and falling from his exertion. Not after feeling his heart beating in time with yours as he pumps you full of his cum.

You hum contentedly, too spent for words, laying in the afterglow of the sex. The sounds of Bruce moving about the room only partially register in your mind until the bed shifts with his weight again. You jolt slightly, shaken from your stupor as Bruce gently cleans up the cum leaking from you.

“I meant what I said.” Bruce doesn’t look up as he speaks. “We’d have beautiful children.”

A tired smile crawls on your face as you look back at him. “We will,” you reply.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider giving this a reblog 💛

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[aurorawritestoescape]

JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k

Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.

A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏

Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST

You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.

You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.

Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.

Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.

“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?

“Hello, angel.”

His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,

“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”

“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.

He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.

“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.

“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”

Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”

You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,

“No, I‘m not.”

He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.

“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”

You scoff and he leans back against the seat.

“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”

You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.

For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.

Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.

“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.

“Look. At. Me.”

The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.

“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”

He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.

“What happened?”

Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.

”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”

“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.

Joel laughs.

“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”

“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?

“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”

“What?”

Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.

You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.

Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,

“Here’s my needy slut.”

You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.

“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”

You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.

“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?

“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.

“Oh?”

”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”

Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.

”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”

“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.

“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”

You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”

Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.

“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”

Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,

“My truck. Now.”

You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.

The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.

Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.

”Wanna show you something.”

You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.

“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.

“No, Joel. Wait.“

You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.

“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?

“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”

You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”

“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.

“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”

You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.

“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”

“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”

You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.

“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.

He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”

You shoot him a playful wink.

“Aww. I’m flattered.”

“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.

The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.

Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.

“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”

He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.

A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.

His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.

“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”

You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.

“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.

“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”

You smirk and Joel continues,

“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”

Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,

“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.

“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”

Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,

“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”

It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.

“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”

“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”

You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.

But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.

“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.

“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”

Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.

“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”

“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”

“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”

Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.

“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.

Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.

Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.

“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”

”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.

”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”

“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”

You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.

“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”

Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.

“Ya like when I do this?”

”Yeah.”

“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”

He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.

With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.

“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,

“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”

He opens his eyes and smirks at you,

“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.

Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.

He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.

Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.

“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”

He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.

“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.

He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.

You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.

“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.

But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.

“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”

Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.

“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”

You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.

When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.

With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.

“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”

“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.

If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.

“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.

When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.

”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”

You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.

“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”

With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.

Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.

You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.

His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.

Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.

A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.

“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”

“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.

“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.

“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.

“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.

You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.

You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.

“I need the details, baby.”

You give Joel a wink and start talking.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquent-dreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 2

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Hair pulling, PIV, condom use. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: You followed Dr. Richmond’s instructions to the best of your ability. You spent so much time in your mind that willingly descending into your body was an experience that opened your eyes to how much you had neglected. Your second session forces you to confront more truths than what you were ready for. 

Terry reaches some conclusions of his own as he tries to shake whatever is ailing him by disappearing between Tasia’s thighs. Yet his mind is on you, on your thoughts and words. During the second session, he can’t help but push you beyond your limit.

Word Count: 5,018k

Part 1 | AO3 Link

A/N: I'n back babbyyyy. I got so inspired reading so many lovely fics. Plus the encouraging asks really helped. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

Hot steam rolled out from the shower as you set it to your desired temperature. You faced yourself in the mirror, thinking over Dr. Richmond’s words. You supposed that there was some truth to what he had told you.

Most people did start by exploring their own bodies first. It must be so easy for guys. Close the door, grab some lotion, and rub one out. Girls on the other hand…your life was constantly spent in a state of panic.

Panic that anything on your person would make your mother snap. Harsh criticisms hidden behind “just talkin’ shit” that Black people liked to hide behind. You were too sensitive to jokey-joke with when you weren’t able to reciprocate. It’s not like you could talk about your mom. It’s not like you could throw insults back in her face and tell her to take it in stride.

Panic that you could be caught or exposed at any point. You were a grown woman, yes. You were also taught to believe that you needed to act as if someone was watching. You believed there was some kind of life after all this and so wouldn’t it stand to reason that someone or something would be looking at you? Or worse, someone would come flying through your door because your family lacked boundaries? 

Panic that you didn’t know what lay on the other side of an orgasm. How would you feel? How would you look? Surely something like that changed a person. Feeling that rush of relief for the first time had to be special. Had to be amazing. Otherwise, why would anyone ever be obsessed with sex? 

Panic that you’d never reach that peak and fall over. Never feel that rush of euphoria that everyone talked about. Porn, books, friend groups. You always felt left out and you didn’t want to anymore, dammit. 

You watched yourself in the mirror as steam overtook it, inch by inch. Until you were only staring at your eyes and the disbelief written all over your face. Would this even work? Were you wasting your time? 

“I need total, focused commitment from you.”

Dr. Richmond’s sultry voice skittered along your naked skin. Goosebumps raised on your flesh from the cold air moving through the house. You would be focused. You would be committed. This was something you wanted so badly, you were fucking desperate. 

So you took deep, measured breaths using the Box method a previous therapist told you about. You inhaled for a count of four, held for four, exhaled for a count of four, and then held it for four. You repeated the process, doing a full body scan. 

You focused on your head, starting with your scalp. You focused on your forehead, feeling the tension melt away and your eyebrows start to relax. You hadn’t even realized that you had it scrunched.

You brought your attention to your eyes, unfocusing them, and allowed them to close. You repeated the process, breathing the entire time, settling down into your body when your mind wanted so badly to escape. To flee. To leave the Horrors. 

When you felt your mind drift, you didn’t chastise yourself. You continued to breathe, focusing on your breaths until you continued with your scan. Your body relaxed fraction by fraction. Your shoulders lowered from up around your neck. Aches and pains became more prominent. 

Your belly expanded and you sighed. You hadn’t even noticed how often you clenched your stomach, never allowing yourself a full breath. You always had to be on edge. Never knew where the next danger was coming from. What new fresh hell you would encounter just around the corner. 

By the time you reached your feet, you felt more relaxed than you had in a long time. Your body prickled with your newfound awareness. Steam caressed your bareskin and you quickly hopped in the shower, letting the warm water cascade across your body.

The water felt different on your body. Each droplet may as well have been a tiny earthquake, popping all over your skin and making you tingle. This…wasn’t too bad. 

You lathered up your facial scrub and gently moisturized your face, soothing the stiff areas. Your jaw popped as it loosened and you moaned from the relief. 

How long? How long have you spent outside of your body? A stranger to it? A foreigner to this vessel you carried around? Had you truly loved your body when you were so alien to it? Or had you just learned to layer on the armor and pretend? 

God, you felt like crying. With one session, Dr. Richmond already had you re-thinking your entire life. Like the answer was there in your face the entire time and you just needed him to shine a light on it. 

You rinsed your face while you grabbed a washcloth and lathered up with your favorite soap. You added body wash and then took your time trailing the washcloth around your body. Starting with your neck, you worked your way down to your chest. 

You took your time feeling the rough cloth against your smooth, watery skin. You rounded the washcloth across your nipples and they beaded under the slow torture. Oh, this was new. This was very nice. 

You were focused, letting the water act as a sound machine, lulling you into a further relaxed state. You followed the washcloth with your hand, moving over and under your areolas and nipples. You pinched your nipples and gave it a tug. You gasped from the responding tug in your pussy.

You moved on, remembering Dr. Richmond’s words about not making it sexual. But fuck, how could you not? 

Heat flushed beneath your skin that had nothing to do with the hot water on your body. You washed your back and then moved lower, skirting your throbbing pussy and washed your legs and dug the cloth between your toes. 

On the way up, your fingers glided around your mound, your hips pushing forward. Your breathing turned rapid, feeling yourself getting more and more excited. Your brain turned to mush, retreating from your actions. Like it wanted to picture something else. You shook your head, and started up with your Box breathing again.

You stopped mid-shower to reorient yourself and get yourself back into that zone of ultimate calm. If Dr. Richmond were there…

You focused on what he might say. There was no rush. There was no rulebook for this sort of thing. There was no reason to chastise yourself. There was no test to pass or box you had to check in order to achieve an orgasm. You just needed to relax, dammit. 

Slowly, achingly slow, you went back to that calm. You continued lathering up your body and then rinsed the soap off. You repeated the process, adding more soap to thoroughly wash your body. To enjoy the feel of the cloth and water and soap on your skin. On your body. 

“This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body.”

This was the only body you would ever have. It was time you stopped treating it like the enemy. 

You turned off the water and then got out. The chill air hit the water on your back and you shrieked and shivered, quickly drying off. You went through your nightly routine, taking care of your teeth, face, and deodorant. You sat down on a decorated stool in your bathroom to apply your lotion.

As instructed, you looked at your body. Every mole, every scar, every bump, and every wayward hair. Being in your body was weird to say the least. You had to disassociate to survive your childhood and you never learned to drop those defenses. Your body never realized that it wasn't at war anymore. Or perhaps it was and this was battle fatigue. You were so damn tired.

You massaged the lotion into your skin and then slipped in your panties. You pulled on an ankle bracelet you got while visiting New York once and it made you feel extra pretty, so why not. You turned on your bedside light and pulled out a notebook.

You started a new entry and wrote about the sensations and revelations you experienced. Some of it you would discuss with Dr. Richmond and some of it was never leaving your grave. It felt good to get it all out, uninterrupted.

Sometimes, venting to someone else just gave them room to talk over you. To steer the direction back to them. Brooklyn was like that. In an effort to relate, she ended up taking over the convo and made it about her situation. Then you ended up comforting her about her issue and never feeling truly heard about yours.

In a journal however, you pretended that you were just relaying it to a friend. The type of friend who allowed you to speak. To get your jumbled thoughts out without getting mad or trying overshadow you. 

Done, you collapsed against your bed as if every ounce of strength left your body. You breathed through it, allowed your body to rest for a moment. The hell kind of voo-doo shit did your therapist put you through?

Immediately, warning bells went off in your mind. Surely, you would be whisked away to some super important task around the house. Surely, your phone would ring with some awful accident you had to attend to. Surely…nothing. You were drained. You had nothing. 

You had just enough energy to put the journal up, turn off the light, and drift off to the deepest sleep of your life.

Terry

Tasia bounced like a porn star on Terry’s dick and it wasn’t doing a damn thing for him. He felt himself getting soft the more Tasia shuddered with her pleasure. At least one of them was having fun. 

Maybe he rushed this. Too intent on getting you out of his mind that he hopped immediately into Tasia’s warm heat and didn’t consider that there was no substitution. He knew it was irrational to be drawn to you so fast. After only one session. He was conflicted on that front, but it went beyond just looks. 

Your case, your assessments, your willingness to try, and your obvious smarts was a cocktail shooting through his veins and turning his body liquid. The perfect sub was dropped into his lap and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

And as a man used to getting his way in the bedroom, it stuck in his craw that he couldn’t have you. That it wasn’t your pussy that his dick disappeared inside of. Would you moan loudly? Were you shy in the bedroom? Were you enthusiastic? 

What would your mouth look like taking the full length of him? How far down could you suck him? Did that same determination translate to the bedroom?

Tasia grunted beneath him as his dick rose back to life, thoughts of you turning him harder than a brick. He could build a house with how hard he was at the moment, picturing the curves on your body. The natural handles in your waist for his big hands to wrap around. To hold.

He moaned, picturing it all so clearly. His thumbs would dig into your back. The sounds you would make. His hips jerked just thinking of pounding into you. No mercy. You weren’t some fragile flower. Your insightful thoughts were like a mirror to his own. He wanted to explore with you. And the fact that he couldn’t had him pulling Tasia’s hair back.

“Call me Dr. Richmond,” he commanded.

“Yes, D-Dr. Richmond,” Tasia moaned. It was starting to piss him off. 

“Softer,” he said.

“Yes, Dr. Richmond,” she said, bringing her voice lower, softer. It was nowhere near your voice, but it’d do for the fantasy he concocted in his head. He didn’t have time for any extra tricks tonight. He just needed to get to the other side of his nut. 

He closed his eyes and thought about your case. He wondered if you were doing as you were told. He wondered how well you would take commands in the bedroom. If he even had to give commands at all. If you’d instinctively know what he needed when he needed it. Tasia used to know that. Tasia used to have him out of breath. 

Now…she was a beautiful girl with deep mocha skin, a cute face, and wide expressive eyes. She was like a little doe in a meadow somewhere. He was attracted to the overall softness of her and of her body. The natural way she seemed to know what he needed. 

Perhaps it was him that had changed. His tastes. He was no longer interested in a casual sub-relationship. Perhaps he wanted a more permanent sub. One he could explore every single nasty fantasy with and never get bored. He was getting older, getting into his early-thirties without a significant partner.

And that was what he wanted. A partner. An equal. Someone he raced home to see or spent his days thinking about how he would break her and put her back together like a puzzle box. 

Terry groaned and came into the condom, gripping Tasia’s asscheeks for dear life. It was one of the hardest climaxes he ever experienced. His release triggered hers, causing her to fall forward as her pussy gripped his dick. 

He pulled out and immediately disposed of the condom, coming back to help clean up Tasia. 

“That was…different,” she said, using the word in place of something else. He didn’t want his reputation to slacken in that regard, but hell, this whole thing had been a mistake. He still made sure she came twice before he did, but he usually put more oomph into his sexual exploits. 

He usually had Tasia popping her pussy on his face, or contorting her like a pretzel. Now…he was just over it. Over trying to impress someone that wasn’t permanent in his life. That he couldn’t play with whenever he wanted. He was no longer excited at the prospect of making many women cum. He just wanted to make one cum over and over again. He wanted to collect each one like trophies. 

Terry grabbed Tasia’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Forgive me. Tonight should’ve probably been a gym night,” he said. He smiled for good measure, but it was a close-lipped smile.

“Oh, I’m not complaining. That dick still know how to rock my world,” she said. She stood up, pulling on her sweats and sweatshirt, and slipping on her sneakers. He sat down on the bed and watched her, not feeling an ounce of desire. 

She leaned over and grabbed his chin, making him look up at her. “You take care of yourself and whatever or whoever got you in this funk. And if you need more relief, you know my number,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with another close-lipped smile. Tasia had been one of his longest play partners, he’d be sorry to see her go. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, showing herself out. 

Terry sat in his fancy bedroom in his fancy house, staring at the empty archway Tasia disappeared through. His mind and body told him that he was ready for something more. Something tangible. Something he could hold and never let go. He only hoped he found it soon.

You

You clutched your journal to your chest as you sat in Dr. Richmond’s office. Nothing about it had changed except the man himself. He chose to wear a cream colored outfit. A soft, oatmeal colored sweater and khaki pants with white sneakers. His gold rimmed glasses flashed every so often from the light overhead and you couldn’t help catching every single thing about him. If only to distract you from your racing thoughts.

It was one thing to live in your body when you were in the comfort of your own bathroom. Your mind escaped once more, retreated to the safest place you knew. Your knee bounced with nervousness. 

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. This is a safe space. It’s your space. You get to decide what we do here,” he said. 

You closed your eyes to the sound of his voice. If he wasn’t so damn helpful, you’d ask for someone else. Literally, anyone else. But he was the first therapist to give you a glimpse of the other side. You wanted that more than you were embarrassed.

“No, I want to share. I need to share,” you said. You licked your lips and then cracked open your journal. You skimmed over things you didn’t want to reveal just yet. Too embarrassing for a second meeting, of course.

“I think…I think my mind is safer. I am constantly on alert that I’m “doing the right thing”, as opposed to what actually makes me happy,” you said. 

When you didn’t say anything, Terry leaned back in his seat. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the golden brown of his forearms. Your mind emptied of any other thought until he cleared his throat. “Can you expand on that?” 

You looked up into his eyes before heat rushed to your ears. You looked back at your journal, focusing on that rather than his lush, pink lips. 

You told him more about how you reached this conclusion. That there was a standard for being Black that you never quite achieved. That at any moment, multiple mobs of people were coming for your Black card. Or, you were constantly trying to over-achieve at school. You had to work twice as hard, had to be the smartest in the class, because if you came home with a B, your mom went on a long rant about being stupid and never achieving anything real in life. Or how everyone praised you at work for going above and beyond and then got mad when you couldn’t sustain it. You were constantly on the lookout for someone else’s standard.

“I have so many fucking voices in my ear, telling me to do this or do that. And I fucking hate it. Which is wild considering that that’s what I seek in a sexual partner,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled and nodded. “Your mind is trying to re-contextualize your upbringing. Being submissive is actually about putting yourself in the position of power. A dom is only as good as how well he treats his sub. It’s about the ultimate act of trust on the submissive’s part,” he explained.

“Yes! And how can I trust that someone isn’t going to…take what I say or want and abuse that or make fun of me for it?” You asked. You played with the corner of your journal, not willing to look at Dr. Richmond. You didn’t need to see the pathetic pity in his steel blue eyes. 

“You have to stand resolute in what you want. You have to recognize that pleasure and sex is about give and take. Trust and acceptance. The right partner isn’t going to make fun of you, abuse you, or rush you,” he said. 

You sighed and leaned back on the brown sofa. You felt like you were chasing a unicorn. What kind of guy was willing to be dominant and care about your needs? Reassure you when you needed and took control when your body sent massive panicked waves at him? Took care of the trust you were placing in him to help you relax and cum? While also being physically attractive to you and have you be attracted to him; not a chubby chaser, not a creep, and not an abuser? 

It was impossible. Hopeless.  

“If you’re comfortable, tell me more about what you found,” he said.

You took your mind off of your dream mystery man. When the fuck was it going to be your turn? 

You scanned your journal once more, noting the sensations about actually living inside your body. “I think when I feel an orgasm approaching, I get scared. And that could be part of why I’m blocking it, but even when I’m alone, I don’t know what it feels like. Or…”

“Or…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

You grimaced. Fuck, this was so hard to put into words. Too hard to expose yourself like this. But did you want to reach your sixties, seventies, never having a true orgasm? Never finding your way to actual release? 

“Or, there’s no way to control the orgasm,” you said.

Dr. Richmond nodded. “The goal isn’t to control it, you know,” he said. 

“I know!” You groaned and stood up. You thought better on your feet. Or maybe when you had something to do, you were better able to regulate the jumble of emotions inside of you. No wonder your emotions were all over the place. You spent too long disassociating, too long in your mind and not enough in your body. 

“What benefit do you get from being in control all the time?” The scratch of his pen on the notebook drew your attention to him. To his pretty face, dark eyelashes, and push lips. You watched as he wrote in his notebook. Watched the lines and planes of his gorgeous face. His short curled afro. 

“If I’m in control, if I never look weak or stupid or incompetent, then I win. I win at life. And all my bullies, from school to home are all wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me because I know what to do. I know what to say. I’m not an alien,” you said, taking a deep breath at the revelation.

Whatever your insurance company was paying him, they needed to double it. You admitted things you never had in the past. Your previous therapists attacked your problem sex first, focusing on different methods you could try. Some wanted you to describe, in detail, whatever you did to get yourself off. Safe to say they weren’t practicing ever again. 

“Do you believe there’s something wrong with you?” He asked. He leaned back in his seat, giving you an unflinching stare. His face gave away nothing, revealed nothing, as you thought through his question. 

“All the fucking time. Why else do friends keep leaving me? Or guys don’t want me? Or my mom is…my mom,” you said. 

“Have you considered that you aren’t the problem?” He asked.

“How could I not be? I’m the only common denominator,” you said. You flopped back onto the couch but it wasn’t that soft. It thudded under your weight and you took a deep breath. Fuck, you wanted to cry. Tears pricked your eyes, turning them hot and itchy. You refused to cry in front of this man. 

This strange, quiet man who seemed to read you like one of the many books on his bookshelf. No wonder he had so many degrees. He could drag a full confession from a mute. 

“That may be true. But, bear with me, consider that you aren’t the problem. If you take yourself out of the equation, what are you left with?” He asked. He leaned forward on his desk and the sudden intensity of the question made your mind blank.

You had…nothing. No explanation, no back up. You were used to making yourself the problem. The issue had to be you. If it wasn’t you…

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away from him. The silence stretched on, so quiet you could hear the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. 

“Don’t shy away now, dig into it. If it’s not you, then…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

The question only seemed to make you clamp up. Your tongue swelled. Your throat constricted. If it wasn’t you, then what? Everyone was incapable of giving you what you wanted? Everyone just had an agenda against you? Please, that was narcissistic as hell. 

Dr. Richmond stood up from his desk and took off his glasses. He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a glass cleaner cloth. He cleaned his glasses and walked around the front of his desk.

“Consider, for a moment, that other people have deficiencies as well. That people congregate in groups because biologically, it’s safer. We seek groups to be in and when we can’t find one, we tend to think that we’re the problem. That we are outcasts, getting left out to defend ourselves. But all that means is that we haven’t found our group yet. You’re trying to fit a round peg into a square hole. You don’t belong with the squares, so no, you won’t fit in with them. 

“The same goes for sex. Everybody has their preferences. People have their kinks, their needs. When those needs aren’t meant, society teaches us to look at our own deficiencies rather than someone else’s. Perhaps the man you need sexually is far different from the men you take to bed,” he said. He waved around his glasses as he spoke, drawing attention to his massive hands. 

Seriously, they were huge. Like two lion paws that could strike down someone with one hit. He held his glasses by the frame, waving it around delicately as he spoke. You were still paying attention to his words, but fuck…he was unreal. 

“But how do I find the man that I need sexually?” You asked.

Terry

Terry inwardly groaned as you asked him that. Plenty of suggestions came to mind, each too crass to suggest. How could he tell you to go into another man’s arms? How could he send you to another man to unleash that hidden hellcat within you and he wouldn’t get to experience it? 

He needed to end this. End this before it even began. He placed his glasses back on his face and crossed a line that he never thought he would. “I think we have more work to do to adjust the way you think about sex before we get into how you attract what you’re seeking. In fact, I’d suggest you abstain from sex until we get deeper into this,” he said.

“Abstain?” You snorted and he fought a smile. Your face showed absolute disgust, like the mere thought was abhorrent. 

“Abstain. From what you’ve told me and what’s in your file, you jumped from overcoming your initial thoughts and reluctance about sex right to jumping into bed. Without really, truly exploring yourself first. Kids explore their bodies all the time right? They grow conscious of themselves and start thinking about hey, my equipment is different from someone else’s equipment,” he said.

You couldn’t help but giggle and it caused him to smirk in return. Yes, it was silly. Talking about sex was silly. But it was true. “And as you start to notice people that you’re attracted to, you start to grow conscious of hormones in your system. Brain chemistry. All the fun stuff that goes into attraction. You start to touch yourself more, explore your preferences through porn or books or experimentation.”

You cringed when he brought up experimentation. He tilted his head. “Did you go through an experimentation phase?” He asked.

You closed your eyes and sighed as if it were the last question you wanted to answer. You completely fascinated him. He had no idea what would come out of your mouth next. How you would respond to certain questions or ideas. 

He snuck a glance at the clock, he was nearing the end of the session. He flexed his jaw. This was so damn irritating. By the time you were willing to open up, it was time to end it. He wished he could carve out a month of sessions to get you to lower your defenses and let him inside. 

“No? I grew up in the wrong generation. All everyone thought about was sex and while I did too, no one was checking for the fat Black nerds unless it was a prank. And I saw everything as a prank. I was always getting pointed at, made fun of, stared at. Jesus, being exposed fucking sucks! So, no, I didn’t experiment. There was no one to fucking experiment with. 

“And it wasn’t like I could go ten feet from my mom without her up my ass about where I was going. Claiming she just didn’t want me to get snatched when all she really wanted was just to control me. To not let me end up like her. Young and pregnant,” you practically yelled, spewing way more vitriol than he expected.

He figured it was a sore spot for you by the way you grimaced, but he hadn’t been expecting…that. Again, he balled his fists thinking of every person that ever let you down. Every person that was supposed to uplift you, guide you, help you, all dropped the ball in teaching you about self love.

Every experience every kid was supposed to have was denied to you. Instead of being asked out with interest, with sincerity, boys treated it like a prank. He was wild in his youth, he wasn’t always nice to people, or he went through life like a little gremlin. But he liked to think he mellowed somewhat in high school. Treating everyone with respect. From the nerds to the jocks. He didn’t know what not trusting people’s words felt like. Like everything that someone said came laced with poisoned barbs ready to sting. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” you whispered. Your lip trembled but no tears fell down your face. 

Fuck, even now you were trying to hold everything in. Control a natural response to something painful. “When was the last time you cried?” Terry asked.

You stood up and snatched your purse and journal from the couch. “Session’s up, right?” You asked. You avoided looking at him as you rushed to the exit. The faux glass door clanged against the wall as you threw open the door and left, steps echoing on the linoleum flooring. 

He stared at the door as it lazily swung back and he wondered. And he pondered. 

Wheww, need more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1

Taglist: You guys, ya'll gon make me cry with this taglist! Thank you!

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[li-x1nyu]

asking your husband "can you get out while i shower?" as a prank

w/ zhongli, neuvillette, kaeya, tartaglia x gn!reader (separate)

silly genshin fluff mostly, angst if you squint, implied nsfw (kaeya) no descriptions

a/n: i get all my ideas from instagram couples

incredibly respectful.

would just hum and get out, no questions asked.

internally, zhongli would be a little confused.

usually, you invite him in with you, but this is new

would ask you a few hours later, at dinner or something

"love, should i always step out when you shower from now on...?"

when you explain that it was just a silly prank, he'll sigh in relief, "oh good, i rather enjoy those private times with you."

"get out of my clothes, or get out of the room...?"

isn't sure what you meant, after all he still thinks humans and their little pranks can be confusing

when you say the room, he just goes, "oh... okay." and leaves before you can get a word out

neuvi won't bring it up again but secretly will be sad and will leave the room when you start to change, shower, etc.

you better give him kisses and apologize

was probably looking forward to NOT getting out, but since you asked, of course kaeya will leave the room

not until he asks some questions of course

"but we always shower together?"

confused while you giggle hysterically

kaeya thinks giggling is a good sign. means you're not mad at him, so he makes lighthearted jokes

"it's not like i haven't seen everything before!"

hopes on the inside that he didn't do something to upset you, but then he remembers

"you're telling me to get out after what we did, like, thirty minutes ago?!"

tartaglia gets up and leaves at first, he probably wasn't even listening to what you said

does a double take and turns around before you close the door of the bathroom,

"WAIT, wait, what?"

you can't help but laugh at his confused expression

will make you repeat the question

"but we're MARRIED? you're self conscious after, like, 5 years?"

"oh you're being serious..?"

tiny frown on his face as he grabs whatever he was doing, mumbling "oh, i'm sorry..."

smile comes back when you laugh and hug him, asking why he's sorry

"you know, i just- don't want you to feel like you can't have privacy!"

happily obliges when you drag him into the shower with you

hope you enjoyed! my ask box is now open for requests ฅᨐฅ

[rafeandonlyrafe]

taken care of

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, established relationship, exhibitionism, VERY BARRY HEAVY FIC!, fishing and like description of cooking fish??? does that need a warning lol, mention of drugs, rafe and barry are drug dealers in this but its very brief, drinking, female receiving oral, sharing is caring lol?, p in v sex, male masturbation, voyeurism

“you don't wanna get out?” rafe asks, his hands petting over your thighs.

“im happy watching from here.” you hum, leaning forward to give him a kiss.

“okay.” rafe sighs, digging in his pocket for his keys, placing them in your awaiting palm. “you can keep the ac and radio on if you want.”

“you know me so well.” you coo, giving rafe another peck on the lips as he goes to the back of his truck, pulling out his tackle box and fishing pole. you keep the door open until you reach over from your passenger seat and turn the truck on, allowing you to roll down the window.

you wave at barry when he notices you in the backseat. “brought sweetheart fishing?” he questions, making rafe let out a grunt, while you just giggle.

barry loves to flirt with you in front of rafe, because he gets pissed and you get so shy, always ducking your head or hiding behind rafe.

“just watching.” you shrug, adjusting yourself so you're comfortable, glad the side of the road is so close to the river bank, letting you stay in the truck but still be close enough to listen to rafe and barry as they chat.

“fish on.” rafe calls out, huffing as he begins to reel. you sit up a little bit, trying to spot the fish in the water before it breaks the surface. your boyfriend hauls it out, a large fish but not a kind he usually keeps.

“wanna hold it?” rafe asks, looking to you.

“no.” you shake your head, hand coming to the lock button on the truck just in case he tries to get closer. “but ill take your picture with it.”

you raise your phone, snapping a picture of rafe with his fish before he undoes the hook from its mouth. he tosses it back into the river, the fish quickly retreating into deeper water.

you send the picture to rafe, knowing the grin on his face is only because of you. he doesn't even bother to check when his phone buzzes in his pocket. all notifications are silenced except for yours, even barrys texts being delivered without notification, only his emergency calls making the phone ring.

you don't even realize that you've fallen asleep leaned against the seatbelt, the warm sun on your face and calming sounds of the river flowing. you only blink your eyes open when the drivers door closes. you rub your eyes and look over to rafe, a gentle smile on his face. “sorry i woke you up.”

“it's okay.” you hum, leaning over the center console, arms circling around rafes shoulders, just wanting to cuddle up to him now that you're awake. “did you catch some more?”

“yeah, some nice bass. put a couple in the cooler if you're feeling up for fish tonight.”

“you wanna know what i want?” you tilt your head to the side, pulling back to look at rafe.

“what?” he hums out, eyes glancing between your lips and meeting your gaze.

“you.” you say before leaning in and capturing his mouth in a kiss, frowning when rafe doesn't reciprocate the way you want him to.

you pull away with an intense pout. “rafeyyy.” you whine out.

“uh, babe-” rafe chuckles, a look of mischief in his eye. you hear someone clear their throat in the back seat. your eyes widen, turning to see barry sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“oh my god!” you squeal, turning forward so the seat blocks your view of barrys goofy grin, covering your red face with your hands. “rafe cameron, why didn’t you say something earlier?” you shout, reaching over to slap him on the arm as he laughs.

“you kissed me before i could say anything!” rafe argues back, still laughing as you turn back to barry and apologize. ��hes coming over for dinner.” “okay.” you whisper. you know barry is a drug dealer, and you know rafe is part of it too, but he keeps you as far away as he can from the life of crime, insisting that hes being as safe as possible, only dealing to kooks at parties.

rafe and barry chat, with occasional interjections from you, as rafe drives the truck towards your shared house. you don’t even bother going inside as you all head towards the backyard where rafe has a fish preparing station as well as a full outdoor kitchen with an expensive grill that was your birthday gift to him last year. sure, you paid for it with his credit card, but its the thought that counts.

“gonna take a leak, back in a minute.” barry heads towards the renovated pool house instead of the main home as rafe swings the heavy cooler up onto the counter. “is he staying the night?” you ask. barry always stays in the pool house when he ends up sleeping over, usually because hes too drunk to get himself home. 

“why? afraid you’re not gonna be able to be loud?” the only negative is the pool house is not too far from the glass sliding doors that lead into your bedroom with a view of the backyard and then ocean just beyond the fence you insisted get put up to keep anything from getting in your pool.

“stop it.” you whine, propping yourself up onto a clean spot on the counter. “i want you so bad.”

“well, im making you dinner right now.” rafe shrugs. “you’ll have to be patient.”

“but you promise to fuck me tonight? come on, i don’t know how long i can wait and i don’t want you getting too drunk with barry to fuck.” you complain, feet swinging.

“promise you’ll get off.” rafe says, noting that his words don’t seem to truly please you as you continue to have a scowl on your face. he knows how quickly your attitude turns when you get too needy for him.

“what you want to drink, pretty mama?” barry asks as he emerges from the pool house. 

“hard lemonade.” you bat your eyelashes at barry, moving from your spot on the counter as rafe gets out the fish to prepare it. you hate seeing him cutting into it, so you move to sit on the outdoor sofa instead.

“will never understand how you guys can drink those.” you turn your nose up at the beer barry brings for himself, handing one to rafe.

“jeez, whats gotten into you?” barry lets out a stark laugh, cracking open his beer with his keys before doing the same with your hard lemonade, handing it to you. even with the alcohol diluted, you still don't like the taste as your nose scrunches.

“shes horny.” rafe simply says, not turning away from his preparation.

“rafe, oh my god!” you shout. 

“oh.” barry just smiles at you, inching closer. “she gets bratty when shes horny?” he questions, not even talking to you despite his eyes glazing down your body.

“yeah. feel free to eat her out, man. itll get rid of her attitude while i finish grilling.” rafe says it so nonchalantly it takes both of you a second to realize he’s serious.

“really rafe?” you question. hes usually the most protective guy there is, always reacting badly when barry flirts with you.

rafe turns to look at the two of you on the couch. “why not? you’re just getting your cunt licked so you can stop being all pissy.”

“maybe because she’s your girl?” barry is just as surprised, though clearly eager from the way he keeps glancing between your thighs, now pressed tighter together.

“you’re not gonna fuck her. she’s not gonna touch your dick. you’re just eating her out.” rafe shrugs. “it’ll be doing me a favor, keeping her busy while i finish our dinner.” “well, i aint gonna argue. what you think sweetheart?” barry turns to you. you glance between him and rafe, only nodding when rafe gives you an encouraging nod. 

“perfect, now take those shorts off, let me see that pussy.” barry grins, gold tooth on display. 

you look to rafe as you stand up, surprised to see him already turned back to gutting his fish. you push your shorts and underwear down with a quick motion. he glances over his shoulder, simply smirking.

“i can’t believe he’s actually okay with this.” you mutter as you sit down, keeping your thighs pushed together as barry moves to his knees.

“just taking care of his girl for him. like how i take care of his drugs or people who fuck with him.” barrys hands come to your thighs, rubbing gently.

“you don’t have to do this though if you don’t want to-” barry can’t even finish his sentence as your legs spread open, revealing a sticky wet mess.

“i-um…” you blush. “i really am horny.” “i see that.” barry clears his throat, his eyes on your pussy. “now, lemme taste that.”

he leans in slowly, giving you a last chance to change your mind before his tongue swipes through your folds, making you shout out. you lean your head against the back of the couch as barry continues dragging his tongue around your cunt, purposely missing the areas you want him most.

“fuck, that’s good.” you moan, watching as rafe moves the prepared fish to the grill, looking over the way barry is hunched on the ground, knees digging into the pavement, his face surprisingly blank of jealousy.

“not as good as your boy though, right?” barry chuckles, hands coming to your cunt, pulling your folds apart to give him a view of your spread hole. 

“no.” you shake your head. it’s true, while barry feels good, he’s nothing compared to rafe. “sorry, bears.” you use the nickname for him reserved for moments when he lets his sweet side show. not often, but you occasionally get it.

“its alright, mamas.” barry shakes his head, eyes glossing over with lust as he sees the way your hole clenches around nothing, begging to be filled. “i know im just getting to eat you out this one time, i’m not gonna waste it.”

he leans in, done teasing as his tongue pushes into your entrance. you let out a moan, reaching down to grip onto barrys hair, undoing his ponytail so it falls into your fists. you hold his face closer as his tongue pushes in and out.

“god, you’re even tight around my tongue.” he groans, switching between kissing your entrance and fucking it with his tongue.

“and you’ll never get to experience it beyond this.” rafe smirks, knowing he’s the only one who gets to fuck you, your first and only. he flips the fish over on the grill, knowing by the look on your face that you’ll  cum by the time its done cooking.

“like having dessert before dinner.” barry slurps at your juices, tongue traveling up to your clit. 

“isnt she the sweetest?” rafe smiles at you, closing the lid of the grill as he gets the table ready, plates and silverware as well as a prepared salad.

“like candy.” barry murmurs, sucking your clit into his mouth, making your back arch as you let out a squeal.

“keep doing that!” you shout out, not caring that your neighbors may hear the way you’re screaming for him. at least the tall wooden fence blocks any view of your exposed sopping wet cunt.

“cum for him.” rafe commands. “dinner is almost ready.”

barry works his hardest, sucking your clit while his tongue simultaneously flicks over it. you try to hold on for a moment longer before your orgasm rips through your body, hips pushing up as you cum with a squeal.

barry switches to gentle licks as your clit pulses, working you through your high until you let go of his hair, pushing his head away as you pant, chest moving rapidly up and down.

“god, that was good.” barry pulls away, wiping his mouth against his sleeve as he stands, looking down at you as he squeezes his clearly hard length through his cargo shorts. 

barry grabs his beer off the table, moving over to take his seat at the outdoor table. you’re surprised how quickly he’s able to return to normal, as if he wasn’t just eating his friends girlfriend out.

“come on, princess.” rafe grabs your shorts, helping you slide them back up your legs. “fish is ready.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, then cheek, then finally against your lips.

“yeah.” you nod, standing and wobbling slightly, rafe wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you to the table until you’re in your seat.

“feeling better?” rafe questions, preparing your plate for you, seeing you still need a moment to recover.

“way better, actually.” you hum, no longer desperate for an orgasm. “thanks barry.”

“just helping my friends out.” he shrugs, lips still slightly glossy.

--

“leave it open.” rafe says as your hand moves to close the large curtain that covers the sliding glass doors. your eyebrows raise as you turn to rafe. 

“barry did you a favor earlier, might as well give him a view.” he smirks, pulling his shirt off.

you glance towards the pool house, rafe of course keeping him supplied with plenty of beers, enough that he was too tipsy to go home. he’s sitting on the bed, eyes meeting yours as the blinds have been left open.

it doesn’t take much longer for rafe to have you kneeling on the bed, tits bouncing as he plunges into you from behind, hands tight on your waist, holding you up on display for barry, stroking himself, his cock just in view through the window.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout

[mwahsol]

Jewelry with initials

Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.

“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”

“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”

‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’

‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”

“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”

After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”

As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.

“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”

“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”

As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”

Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”

“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.

“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.

“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.

I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

The right ones.

Pic credits

Pairing: Soft!Joel Miller x reader, no outbreak (Sarah is alive and well)

Summary: Joel buys you pads. ‘Cause Joel provides, you know, no matter the situation.

Tags: established relationship, pet names (baby, honey), reader has period and hair, no other description is given, mention of period symptoms, mention of cramps, mention of pads, mention of Sarah, flirting, kissing, Joel is a sweet pookie bear, I think that’s all? It’s just some tiny little fluff I wrote because I’m about to get my period and I need some comfort 🥲

I tried to write it in a neutral way so that every person who menstruates can identify with it, I hope I succeeded. (if you think there are things that need to be changed, just tell me and I'll do it ❤️)

English is not my first language, no beta and no proofreading so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry 💀

Thanks to anyone who will read this!

Your cell phone rings.

“Hey! What’s up, honey?”

“Um… listen, which ones did you say you need?”

“The ones with wings, Joel. Blue box, second shelf from the bottom.”

Usually you are the one who takes care of groceries and hygiene products shopping and by now you know by heart where they are.

“Mh…” you can see him. In the middle of the aisle, frowning, one hand on his hip and the other one holding the phone, one knee slightly forward, as he tries to maneuver through the boxes, they must all look the same to him.

“The ones that say ‘night, with wings, extra long’,” you add to try to help him.

Silence follows, several deep breaths, an undertone of exasperation, you bite your lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing. You don’t want to make fun of him, he’s trying hard to make it right.

He offered to do it for you this morning while you were in the bathroom and you discovered that not only had your period decided to come early but you were also almost out of pads.

You let out a sigh and cursed, “Oh damn!” You were in a foul mood, the cramps were making you squirm, your head was hurting, your back was tormenting you.

He was getting dressed, clearly heard you and asked worried “what’s wrong?”

You walked out of the bathroom with your head down and one hand on your stomach feeling miserable “UGH, my stupid period came and I’m running out of pads”

You sat on the bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand as a terrible nausea hit you, and you called out of work saying you were sick.

His large hand caressed your face as he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’ll go to the supermarket during lunch break,” he said softly “Stay in bed and rest, okay?”

“Thank you so much” you said, lying down on the bed again and burying your face into your pillow, feeling cramps clawing inside you “you’re the absolute best”

He leaned to kiss your cheek and then left the house to reach the construction site.

—————

He had done it for Sarah one of the first times she had her period and he had bought the wrong type, the thick and bulky ones, she had looked at the box with a downhearted expression that had made his heart sink.

“Those aren't the ones I wanted, Dad! I told you extra thin!” She screamed at him between sobs.

Joel felt like a good-for-nothing.

Making Sarah cry was terrible for him.

He later discovered that his daughter's tantrum was also a side effect of her period and Sarah had apologized to him but Joel still felt that he was the one who had to apologize for his lone wolf status that didn't allow him to have someone by his side to ask for help.

He would have liked to fall in love, yet he had to make it on his own, he certainly didn’t have time to date between work and all the other things he had to take care of. Being a single dad was a full time job.

After that, Joel had memorized the type that Sarah liked best but she had always conveniently made sure to stock up every time they went to the supermarket.

It had been many years since he had bought them for her and he found himself back at square one. Packages are so different, he could swear there are a dozen new ones he's never seen before.

He pinches his nose, takes a deep breath and then he sees it, just like you described it.

"I found them!" you hear him say enthusiastically "I'll be there soon"

"Good job! I'll be waiting for you, love" you coo.

He grabs the box and he goes to the checkout.

You hang up the phone wondering if he really has the ones you want but in any case you’re already grateful that he used his lunch break to bring them to you.

When he met you he was convinced he would be alone forever.

You had reopened his heart little by little, with patience, without pushing him to do or say what he wasn't ready for yet and he had rediscovered himself as a man capable of loving and in need of receiving it. He was grateful for this, he’s madly in love with you and wants to do everything he can to help you in every circumstance.

————————

Joel has quietly entered your room and find you asleep.

He sits on the bed trying not to wake you.

Your hair spread out on the pillow, your face relaxed, your mouth slightly agape and your hand hanging loosely next to your face… you are so beautiful he can’t believe it. He’s the luckiest man in the world and the least he can do is bring you the right damn box. He leave the bag on your nightstand, kisses you on the temple and goes to the kitchen to make some sandwiches.

You wake up after a couple of minutes and see the bag so you grab it to look inside.

Bingo.

Joel wasn’t wrong, they are exactly the ones you wanted. And you find your favorite chocolate bar in it too.

You hear him humming softly in the kitchen so you get up to go and congratulate your hero.

“Hey, gorgeous!” he says to you as soon as he sees you at the kitchen door. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” you say, stretching your arms. Luckily the painkiller you took worked.

“I’m happy to hear that. Go back to bed, I’ll bring you a sandwich in a bit” You move closer and wrap your arms around his waist, leaning against his back as he spreads mayo on the bread.

“You don’t have to do all this, but thank you” you whisper “I love you so much” His body is warm and welcoming, you bury your face in his plaid shirt inhaling his woody scent, so familiar and seductive.

Joel is like that, he had never been good with words, his love language is gestures. And he makes tons of them, constantly, small and big. He remembers which flowers you like best, he brings you Chinese food when you tell him you had a bad day, he watches your romantic comedies with you even if they bore him, he lets you choose the music in the car even if he's old school and you're belting out Billie Eilish and Chappell Roan these days, if something in the house broke, you find it repaired the next day without even asking.

“I love you too” he says, dropping the knife on the counter and placing his hands on yours, holding you close.

“You got the right ones, I'm proud of you” you tell him softly.

He turns to kiss you “Good, I’m glad I could help”

The tip of your tongue grazes his lips and you gently make your way into his mouth, moaning against him while he fills his hands with your ass squeezing it.

“Mmm baby, don't provoke me, I don't have much time left before coming back to work unfortunately"

“We can always have a quickie, they say orgasms help with cramps, you know” you say in a slightly pleading voice, looking at his big brown beautiful eyes through your eyelashes.

“Oh well then if it's for a good cause…” he replies huskily.

“And then you deserve a prize”

“I also got you some chocolate, did you see?”

“Oh yes” you say grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him into the bedroom “I saw it and I love it, but I crave something else sweet right now”

Joel chuckles as he follows you into your shared bedroom “such a dirty little thing you are”

[cherryobx]

Today

a/n: part 2 of this fic, can be read on its own!

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: the morning after getting drunk and trying to kiss your best friend the previous night

warnings: language, one sexual innuendo i think, mentions of getting drunk, being hangover and nausea (but no detailed descriptions)

wc: 1.5k

The sun shines directly into your eyes through the windows of your bedroom and forces you awake. It’s almost painful. You get up to pull down the blinds to make the room dark and being in there bearable. 

You fall back into bed and bury your face in the numerous pillows propped up against the headboard, regretting drinking last night. The headache and nausea are bad but you’ve definitely experienced worse. You’ll live.

You reach for your phone which you usually place on the nightstand for the night, but it isn’t there. Lifting your head from the pillows you squint in confusion. There’s a water bottle, an Advil pill and a piece of paper there instead.

Sitting up, you grab the note first. Rafe’s neat handwriting fills the sticky note.

Had to go home for a sec. I’ll come by later. Make that hangover your bitch. - R

Right, he stayed the night. You smile at that and place it back down on the nightstand before popping the Advil into your mouth and downing almost the entire bottle of water in one go.

Memories from the previous night slowly start flooding in. Best friend’s birthday party. Too much alcohol. Hot tub. Phone ruined by said hot tub. Rafe taking you home. Begging Rafe to kiss you.

Oh my God. You asked your best friend to kiss you while drunk. That is so embarrassing. Even though it’s exactly what you’ve wanted for a while now. You weren’t planning on spilling your feelings to him while drunk like this. How can you look him in the eye when he comes by later knowing that you tried to pursue him romantically last night?

The hangover is now battling with your nerves and it’s not a very good combination. In an attempt to feel like a human again, you get up from bed, brush your teeth, fix your hair as much as possible and remove the makeup from last night and finally change into something other than your pyjamas.

Even those little mundane tasks are a bit difficult as your head spun and pounded simultaneously. You lay back in your bed to catch your breath but drift off instead.

Rafe keeps his word and comes over sometime in the afternoon, after a trip to the nearest technology store and buying you a new phone just like he had promised.

“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you up from your slumber.

“Oh, hey.” You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.

Rafe is sitting on the edge of your bed and it’s giving you flashbacks from last night when you two were sitting just like this. But this time the air is different. There’s something unspoken between you two.

He gives you a once over before shoving a small box into your hands. Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap and see a brand new phone in them. It’s the newer model of your previous one and you know for a fact it’s expensive.

“You didn’t.” Disbelief and shock are evident in your tone of voice. 

“I told you I would.” He seems almost proud of himself.

You scoff. “Asshole. I can’t accept this. Take it back.” You attempt to give it back to him but he pulls his hands away and holds them in the air, refusing to take it.

“No. It’s yours.”

“I don’t want it,” you rebut but it’s no use. He refuses to take it back.

“You need it.”

“I could’ve bought one with my own money. I don’t want you spending so much on me. It’s insane, Rafe.”

“I don’t mind spending a little on you once in a while.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like this huge amount of money means nothing to him.

“A little? For fuck’s sake, Rafe, this is a thousand dollar phone! That is way too much.” Your voice is high pitched and desperate. You really can’t accept this. It’s too much. You feel bad for him spending such a sum on you.

“Is it? Don’t really care.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re impossible!” 

He chuckles. “You love me.”

“I’m about to whoop your fucking ass.”

“Kinky.” He smirks and lays down on his side, body propped up by his forearm and elbow.

You stare at the phone between your hands and then him. You know he won’t budge. Once Rafe has set his mind to something it’s impossible to change it. You also know he won’t take the phone back out of spite. If you don’t want something it’’s exactly what he’ll give you.

“Thank you,” you say, finally giving up. It’s impossible to convince him to take it back.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Your heart tightens at the nickname he uses. It’s not abnormal for him to use nicknames like this for you, but today it feels immensely different.

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asks with a slightly worried tone.

You shake your head. “No. I’ve been too nauseous all morning.”

At that he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, taps a few buttons and then hands it to you. “Order something then.”

You look at him dumbfounded. “What?”

“Food, sweetheart. Order something. You need to eat,” he insists.

Your first thought is that it’s such a sweet gesture which shows your best friend really cares about you. The second one is that he’s about to spend even more money on you. And that you don’t like.

“Rafe.” 

He knows what this is about but refuses to let you argue in any way. “Shut up and get what you want.” 

You zip your lips and scroll on the app on his phone, looking through the options the restaurants offer and choosing what looks and feels the most appetising at the moment. You decide on just fries and chicken nuggets. Your usual hangover food pick. They somehow taste even better than they normally do when you’re battling a killer headache.

“Classic,” he chuckles as you hand him his phone back and he takes a look at what you chose.

He picks something for himself too and then presses the order button and pays for both of your food.

As you wait for the food to arrive, he offers to help you set up your new, extremely expensive, phone. He scoots next to you on the bed, both of you now sitting beside each other, backs against the headboard and your sides together, touching each other. Your skin tingles where it touches his and the feeling is almost addictive.

He taps away on the screen, focused on getting all your data over to this new phone but you just look at him, taking him in. He’s so into the task in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your soft eyes on him. How you look at him with adoration in your eyes and a tightness in your chest.

The familiar urge to kiss him from last night resurfaces. Didn’t he mention he wanted this too? You’re not sure. What if you remember incorrectly? What if your memory is lying to you or making his promises from last night up?

But the need is so strong and your mind is just telling you to go for it. Is this a bad idea? Too late.

Your hand reaches out before you stop yourself, before you can think twice about your actions. You must be still drunk from last night because where is this sudden courage coming from?

You place your hand on his chin and gently turn his head to face you. His face is full of curiosity and confusion.

“I’m sorry,” you say, apologising in advance for your actions because you don’t know what the aftermath of this will be. Leaning in, you place your lips on his which takes Rafe by surprise.

He’s taken aback for a second and pulls away to look at you. He’s searching your eyes for any hesitation or regret. When he doesn’t find a shred of them there, he drops your new phone from his hands, disregarding it somewhere in the sheets and grabbing your face with both of his hands and reuniting your lips once again, kissing you desperately. Like he needs it to breathe. Like he’s hungry and has been starving for months.

It’s feverish. You’re both satisfying a craving you’ve been trying to ignore for so long and all of those feelings are unleashed into that kiss. 

“Don’t ever fucking apologize for that again,” he says when you break apart to catch your breath. His forehead is resting against yours and it’s so intimate on so many levels you feel lightheaded.

You open your mouth, wholeheartedly intending to apologise again but he stops you in your tracks. A ‘shut up’ leaves his mouth before it’s on yours again, shutting you up very effectively. 

“Ass,” you mumble in between kisses.

“You kiss me with that mouth?” He fakes shock at your words.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and use his tactic to shut him up instead.

[screeching-bunny]

Need more of our yan slasher,he's so pookie,i wanna bite his cheeks (in a affectionate way) and cuddle with him until the end of times,he's such a cutie 😭💗

Yandere! Slasher Pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt. 1

After reading the message sent by Yandere! Slasher, everyone subconsciously looked at you. Never in your life did you want to go home more badly than you did right now. Why did you even decide to go to a party in the first place? You don’t even like people in general! You were definitely never going out to socialize with others after this. If only there were more booze around here you really didn’t want to handle this situation semi sober.

You: “... What are you all looking at me for, they gave out a very vague description of someone. This could literally be anyone in this room with similar features to me.”

The next minute the phone screen immediately lights up with a message.

Yandere! Slasher: “I’m talking about you.”

You: “...”

After a few more seconds of silence, you finally managed to suppress the fear and uneasiness in your heart. You took the phone from the person beside you and carefully looked back at the messages that were sent by Yandere! Slasher. Finally looking down at the text box you begin to slowly type a message.

You: “Sorry, I don’t like guys with dark hair.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I can always dye it.”

You: “I don’t like your face.”

Yandere! Slasher: “There’s always plastic surgery”

You: “How do I know that you're rich? What if you’re lying and actually not broke.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I’ll buy you whatever you want right now. I can even send you my credit card information if you decide to be with me.

Damn you were broke but not broke enough to allow yourself to be with some killer. If it weren’t for your morals you would have probably folded by now.

Yandere! Slasher: “Well it’s not like you have a choice anyways. I plan on making you my spouse either way. You can either come with me willingly or I could take you by force…. Well looks like you’re taking too long. I'll decide for you.”

With that text message sent, you immediately began to feel queasy. You were struggling to keep your eyes wide open and your body was beginning to become very sluggish. Slowly but surely your senses were starting to stop and the last thing that you were able to hear were the sound of your peers screaming for help. With one last attempt to get out of your situation, you try to slowly crawl away. Only for your attempts to be interrupted when someone gently picks you up. “You’re not going anywhere cutie.” and with that you were now fully unconscious.

—

The next morning you woke up with the world’s worst hangover in the world. Never in your life did you feel this fucked up and and groggy all at once. You begin to raise up your body but soon realize that your body was tightly restricted by some rope and you were wrapped in the arms of some guy. The immediate thought in your head was that this was, last night was either the kinkiest night of your life or some random weirdo had ended up kidnapping you. Due to your movements the man next to you begins to wake up and looks over to you with a smile on his face.

“Cutie! I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so many things that we need to discuss right now! I’ve been thinking about the names of our future kids. Do you have any preferences? I don’t really mind what we name them but I want a lot of kids! Wait! I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I never even asked you if you wanted kids. If you don’t like them we can adopt as many pets as we physically can and we–”

As he was rambling it finally hit you. He was the fucking weirdo from the night before. You wanted to fucking die. Never in a million years did you think that you’d have to deal with a serial killer and an extrovert at that. Maybe if you pretended to be deaf he would stop talking to you. You begin to look at him and begin to make gestures with your head and facial expressions to signify that you were deaf. Yandere! Slasher looks at you for a few minutes before laughing.

“Sweetie, that's not going to work. I’ve been stalking you for the last couple of years. I know that you’re not deaf. Besides I’ve looked at your medical, you're perfectly healthy right now. Which reminds me, my precious little darling must be starving right now. It’s my job as your future husband to take care of you. Now wait right here for me.”

With that he leaves you entrapped alone in the room. Although your eyes were still a little blurry you were still able to make out the contents of the room. Scanning the room, your eyes fell upon a glint of metal under a desk —a discarded tool left by neglect or chance. Adrenaline surged as you inched closer, your heart racing in synchrony with your movements. With trembling fingers, you grasped the tool, the cold touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Summoning every ounce of determination, you started sawing at the ropes, each movement a blend of agony and hope. The metallic smell of blood filled your nose as the sharp edges of the tool cut into your skin. With each passing second, the knots loosened, freedom within tantalizing reach. With one last rough movement you were able to be free of your binds. As you made your way towards the window. A creak soon shatters the silence and the door swings open. Revealing your kidnapper's looming silhouette.

“Look at you all covered in blood because I left the room. Did you really think I would leave the room without any monitors watching you? I was hoping that you wouldn't try to escape but I guess I’ll have to be training you from now on cutie. Guess I’ll have to punish you right now. Do me a favor and lay down won’t you?”

[changisworld]

A helping hand

Felix x f!reader

Word count:6,227

Summary: Felix is addicted to masterbating & also sex. But despite his addictions, he hasn’t got laid in over a year & has to use his hand but he has now gotten bored with it. He has tried different toys, DIY tricks etc but it’s just not the same, so he caves in one night & signs up to one of the “single ladies in your area” adverts out of complete desperation after clicking on it by accident. not thinking in case he gets a million more porn viruses, but he ends up talking to someone he thinks is even more attractive than him, you.

->Authors note at bottom!

18+ MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: NEEEEDDDDYYY felix, felix cums a LOT& i mean a LOT, multiple orgasms(both rec), switch reader, switch felix, spit, oral (both rec), 69, facesitting, ball sucking, slliiiiggghhhtttt anal play(felix rec), body worship, squirting, hair pulling, very brief masterbating, slight overstimulation, cum eating, creampie, tiniest bit of dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, aftercare is mostly off screen! 90% smut 10% plot (sorry nawt sorry)

Felix has been scrolling through pornhub & also twitter for hours. He has gotten two hundred pages down into pornhub & can't help but grumble to himself, his cock red & angry now resting on his lower stomach, a few, small ropes of cum spread across his abs & for him, that's nothing.

He scratches the underside of his cock with his nails in a slow motion, trying to give himself a tiny bit of stimulation.

He keeps aimlessly scrolling through the pages upon pages of videos but he is barely even reading the titles, his eyes getting bored & he ends up focusing on the bunch of stupid adverts at the top of the page & he watches the same clip replaying over & over & he clicks on the video right below the advert a second later, the thumbnail catching his attention for the first time in forever.

The video takes a second to load & another advert comes up & he sighs, before realising it's the same advert from the top of the screen. He goes to press the 'skip advert' button but accidently clicks on the actual advert & it takes him onto a website.

He goes to just click off of it, but something... someone catches his his eye.

The website is styled like an early 2000's porn magazine, pictures of women with descriptions below, a small text box beneath each where you can leave your own message for the women to get back to you.

He decides to just scroll down a few, when a specific girl stands out to him, a girl called y/n. In the picture given, you're wearing a lacey black bra & panties set, your body & face on full display.

He takes a brief look at your description: "*YOUR AGE*, no hard no's, feel free to message me, I won't bite unless you ask me to<3" & Felix feels almost compelled to text you. He signs up to the website, not even bothering to think if it's a scam website & could steal all his information before setting his profile picture, his name, age & bio up before sending you a message.

Felix's description: "Into absolutely everything. I dom & sub, I'm not picky!:3 You name it, I'm into it!" He decides to keep it short, not wanting to add too much in case with his luck, one of his friends, almost as desperate as he is, coming across his account somehow.

Felllx2000: Aren't u too pretty to be here?

Felix texts you, not wanting to sound like a weirdo, he goes to click out of your name & scroll further down the site when he sees a speech bubble at the bottom of the screen, you already typing back.

You: Shouldn't I be asking you the same? you look so innocent, what you doing on here? Felllx2000: looks are deceiving then lol, i'm anything but that:3 You: I seen your bio, you seem like fun, whats brought you here? Felllx2000: came here on accident lol but i dont regret it now, do u have any more pics of u?? You: aww you're just a cutie<3 ofc I do, I'm supposed to make you pay for images since only the texting part is meant to be free but you're just a beautiful boy so one wont hurt. You:Imag.ddxi41g

Felix's eyes widen at the image, you're posing in the mirror in another set of lingerie, this time a hot pink set, making your curves look as good as possible, your hand cupping the bottom of one of your tits & you are sticking your tongue out.

Felix's cock jumps up from his stomach for the first time all night & a few of his fingers reach down to fondle the tip of his dick, eyes narrowing slightly at the sensation.

Felllx2000:can i be a beg & ask for another? ur so hot it hurts You: You're really a desperate boy aren't you? Why not you send me something of you first n i can decide if i'll send anything else ;)

Felix reads this & is instantly flicking onto his camera roll & selecting multiple photos of himself, photos of his aching leaky cock, photos of his abs & even a full body shot before sending it.

You, on the other side of the phone, your jaw drops when he sends the photos & the sleep clothes you're wearing all of a sudden feeling far too tight on your body. You go back into your camera roll & dig out a pussy picture, your fingers in a 'V' shape, spreading your hole & your clit visible, a shimmer noticeable, the photo taken after you did a private show for another texter (you made over £950 that night) since you were a bit too sleepy to take a brand new picture since it's 2am for you both.

Felix's cock pulsates, this being the first time he's actually received nudes for the first time in months & he begins to actually jerk off into his hand, all of a sudden he is actually getting the tiniest bit of sensation to his cock as he admires the photo.

Felllx2000: y/n ur making me nuts holy shit You: Feelings mutual sweetie, u jerking off for me? Felllx2000: thats a silly question of course i am, wish it was you though</3 You: you gonna cum just from a few pictures hmm? why you so needy? do you not get female attention, pretty? Can I ask what your body count is gorgeous? with a face like that you can easily be married by now. Felllx2000: noooo;( my hand doesn't bring me anything good, want someone else, want u. It's 3, I just dont get the chance! im good in bed though, id luv to prove it! ;0 You: Your neediness turns me on so much babe, what is it you want me to do to you? I want to kiss your pretty face off n ride you till you cry, your cock is so beautiful, so pink

You can't help but smile at your screen & you shut your phone off & you crawl out your bed & hop in the shower, taking the extra time to use extra body scrubs & scents as you feel a bit nervous of what you are gonna do, in the meantime, felix has began blowing up your phone.

Felllx2000:Want u to wrap ur lips around me so much;( want to fuck u so bad, i can last so long y/n, u have no idea Felllx2000: would let u wrap ur thighs around my head, pull my hair, i can be so good for you if u want me tooooo<3 Felllx2000: where u gone?:( did i scare u? im sorry, u dont need to respond.

You hop out the shower & dry your hair as quick as you can & you lift your phone that's half hidden in your bedsheets & you see the messages he sent & your eyebrows furrow a bit.

You: Don't be so silly, nothing that comes from your pretty face could scare me. You free right now?

Felix opens that text almost instantly & his eyes instantly widen, his hand freezing on his cock as he just stares at the words.

Felllx2000: I am why? you sound nearly as desperate as me

You: Well if you're really that desperate for me, we can exchange numbers & talk more n meet up hmm? & don't get cheeky lmao, calling me desperate compared to you! silly silly but i wont deny it;)

Felllx2000: right now? it says we are 6km apart so i can pick u up? or when? idk i dont do this idk how to acttt, you're making me blush You: Sounds fine hunny, we need to switch app because if we somehow get caught n you didnt pay id get in shit lmao, we arent allowed to meet people irl but theres just something about you, gimme your number pretty please

Felix springs up in bed & sends you his number quicker than you can blink & you text his number & he replies just as quick & his heart is racing at the thought... he's maybe gonna actually hook up with someone???

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both decide to text for a few days, mostly to secure your own safety in a way & you facetimed once or twice, which actually ended up in phone sex both times & you now discovered it's a huge kink of yours.

You have mostly been waiting on Felix to get more comfortable as you can tell he is the more nervous one, unsurprisingly, but tonight is the night.

You've learned a few things about Felix, one of them being when he told you his name, but he also pretty much explained to you his... addiction & you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on but also scare you slightly, what if you genuinely can't please him? you've never met anyone from the site in real life & you can't help but get butterflies knowing you're hooking up with felix tonight, possibly the hottest guy you've ever spoken to point blank.

Felix texts you to tell you he is on your way, both of you deciding to meet at your house since his small, man cave, standard gamerboy slightly messy apartment who he shares with his roommate Changbin is home.

You light a candle in your lounge area & put a loose top & sleep shorts on top of your chosen set & you put on the tiniest bit of makeup, still wanting to look good for him despite it being close to 1am.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You hear a few knocks on your door twenty minutes later & you feel your heart coming out your throat but you do your best to swallow it as you waltz your way to the front door, putting on a brave face, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Felix & you both look at each other & smile, Felix wearing a pair of grey sweatpants & a matching hoodie, his blonde hair slightly messy. You whisper a 'hi' to one another, being quiet to not let the words echo in the apartment stairway, before you move aside for him to enter.

You shut the door behind him & you instantly flip around to look at one another again.

"Surprised you actually showed up, do you want a drink or anything?" you ask, giving him a smirk as you close the distance between you both & tease him by taking his hand in yours & guiding him to the living room, plopping him down on the couch, but he pulls you down with him.

"I'll drink later, c'mere." he remarks as he helps you onto his lap so you're straddling him & his lips lock with yours instantly, the kiss full of need from the both of you, you realising you've been lacking physical touch a fraction of the amount Felix has been.

His hands trail down to your waist & then ass, kneading it like a cat in his short fingers as he helps you begin grinding your hips against him & you can already feel his cock hard beneath the layers of clothes, making your eyebrows furrow.

You take the initiative & you begin poking your tongue through his puffy pink lips & he groans into it, the pair of you both now exchanging spit, the noise of your lips smacking together ringing through both of your ears.

You wriggle your fingers through his hair before you pull back on it, pulling his lips away from yours & he lets out a deep groan before you look at him, a mischievous look on your face before you lean down slightly & begin kissing his jawline & neck, using your teeth to nip at it, making him roll his hips onto your covered crotch, his hands fighting the urge to dig his hands past the waistband of your shorts.

You wriggle your hips slightly backwards to make more room for you to kiss his neck & your hands below his hoodie & you quickly make the note that he has no shirt beneath the hoodie he is wearing & you graze your fingers over his solid abs.

"& you said I was the desperate one, can I take these off?" he groans, his voice raspy as he tries to sound fully composed but failing. You lean back enough & raise your hips enough to wiggle off the shorts he was referring to, giggling as his eyes become glued to your covered core.

"Don't get cheeky Felix, you're the one pawing at me." you giggle as you pull his hoodie off his frame, leaving him naked on the top half & you basically naked on the bottom half.

You usher Felix to lay flat on the couch & you climb back on top of him & you plant some kisses on his now naked chest & you take one of his pretty, dark nipples in your mouth & you lightly bite, making him wince at the feeling has he keeps jerking his hips upwards, seeking even a tiny bit extra friction, which you decide you'll give him.

You give him a look as your fingers are playing with the drawstrings on his joggers & he just nods, giving you a non verbal sign that you can take them off, & you do, Felix raising his hips just enough for you to fully pull them off his milky coloured legs.

You hum in approval at the bulge in his underwear, the front part completely soaked with precum & you make quick progress of pulling his boxers off to, leaving him feeling desperate & he hums at the cold air hitting his wet tip, his cock harder & more leaky than it has been in his whole life.

"I thought nothing got you to orgasm anymore but your pretty balls look as if they're about to explode." you quip & he covers his eyes with his arm momentarily out of slight embarrassment.

"That's only when it's me, when it's you in front of me why would anyone be surprised." he squeaks, his stomach lurching forward as you take his pretty, boyfriend sized, chubby cock in your hand & hold it with a firm grip, using your thumb & index finger to pinch lightly at his piss slit, watching his cock leak precum like a broken faucet.

"What is it you're wanting Lixie, hmm?" you question, your hand painfully slowly jerking him off, more precum dripping every time your hand moves. "Tongue, please?" he pleads, his puppy eyes looking down at you & as much as you want to drag it out, your willpower already completely out the window & you chuckle at his desperate face before you ingulf his tip past your lips.

You use your hand to keep jerking off the base of his cock, his trimmed, straight pubes tickling the part of the hand that is grazing them & your other hand slithers down the extra tiny bit before you cup his balls, rolling them in your fingers & the moan the man under you lets out a load whine.

You swirl your tongue around his tip before sinking down his now completely soaked with spit cock, your drool dripping onto his balls, giving him goosebumps. You quickly come up for a breath & spit out the gallons of drool that hasn't been pushed out from his cock pistoning into your mouth & you take this opportunity to suckle on his balls, pulling on them with your lips gently, making Felix squeal as you continue rolling the other half in his hand. You catch your breath back as much as you can while doing this then you pull your lips off his balls & blow some cold air on them, making his cock twitch in your hand, before returning it into your mouth.

His hips jerk up on accident but when you moan around his cock, sending vibrations up his spine, he begins to thrust shallowly into your throat & you gurgle around him, your eyes not breaking eye contact with his, not even an ounce of embarrassment in your face despite the mess.

"Gonnagonna cum, d- you're so good." he groans as his hair begins sticking to his face as his eyes struggle & then failing to keep his eyes open as his tip spills ropes of cum out of it & landing right into your throat & you moan around his cock, moving your head up so you're only suckling on the tip as you swallow four separate mouthfuls of his orgasm & you can feel the wetness almost leaking out from your panties.

You pull fully off his dick & you aren't even that surprised that his cock is still completely hard. You open your mouth to make fun of the fact but Felix cuts you off by pulling you up towards him so you are now sat on his lower stomach & pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you in just your set & felix whines at the sight.

"Need to eat you out, I'm genuinely dying to taste you." he states as he pulls on the tiny tiny waistband of your thong & you just giggle at his words & crawl up his frame even more so your cunt is right above his face & he looks up at you with his jaw slightly open & his eyes watering.

"Really Lixie? I'll give it to you because I pity your desperation." you say, slight attitude & sarcasm in your voice as you lower yourself onto his face, your panties still covering where you both want to see & feel the most.

Felix begins to kitten lick your clit over your panties & he hums to himself at the tiniest faint taste of your juice that's seeping through your underwear & you purr at the sensation, trying your hardest to not begin grinding against his face, but when he is now pushing & pulling on your waist, you do just that.

Felix decides that your underwear is now soaked through enough with his own saliva & gets one of his small fingers & he pushes your panties to the side & he lets out a pitiful gasp.

"Your cunt is so pretty, it's soaking, shit." he murmurs, more to himself than he is to you before he digs in, pulling your body onto his face as much as he possibly can as he licks a long, wide strip up your entire cunt before settling his tongue on your puffy clit, suckling on it as if his life depends on it & you can't help but hiss at the pleasure.

He laps his tongue in tiny circles around your button as he sucks at the same time, making you feel as if you are on cloud nine. "No way this-you're this good if you're as inexperienced as-as you made out to be." You stammer, your eyes scrunched shut & your head raised up at the ceiling as your fingers find their way to his hair to tug on it, making him jerk his hips & whimper into your cunt.

He moves one of his hands from your waist & gives your ass a quick but harsh spank, making you jerk as forward as you can with his grip still holding you in place as his hand makes its way down to where his mouth is & he enters two fingers into your dripping hole & your stomach lurches & your body slightly curls forwards & you find balance in Felix's hair & he honestly has no issue with the way you are pulling on it, moaning back into your cunt which shoots right through you.

"Gonna c-cum, wait." you force out before you use all your strength to raise yourself off his completely soaked face, his lips red & puffy & his hair all dishevelled & you boop his nose, giving him a small smile through staggered breath as you do your best to flip your body around so you're now facing the rest of his body & Felix lets out a groan before pulling you back down onto his face, him already addicted to your taste & can't go s minute without it.

You grind down on his face, the bottom part of your pussy lips hitting against his nose, making you purr. You fully open your eyes & notice there's a puddle of cum on his abs, even whiter than his skin. "You c-came untouched, I'm fla-flattered." you blabber as you reach out for his cock & begin to jerk it, obviously still hard despite a second orgasm.

Felix chuckles into your cunt & his ears go a slight shade of red, a bit shy at how quickly you have managed to make him cum in such a small amount of time. You put the tip of his cock past your lips & hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue as best as you can as your mind is going fuzzy by now.

You hum at a mixture of the taste of precum & also at the feeling Felix is providing you & you can feel your orgasm slowly bubbling up so you coat your finger in your own spit before you begin lightly pinching his balls, making him whimper into your cunt & he detaches himself from your pussy momentarily.

"Fingers, fingers y/n p-please., fingers." he squeaks to you, his voice completely blown out before he gets back to what he was doing, his brain running at a million miles an hour & his tongue moving even quicker, because despite the lack of women he has been with, he knows how to eat.

He latches his lips & tongue onto yours & suckles as he worms his tongue into your hole & your legs begin to shake & you take a second to compose yourself after listening to his words & you use the hand that was just jerking off his soaking cock & switch it to your other hand & you use your now shiny hand & you roll it down towards where he was asking, making sure to put a bit extra pressure on his balls as you drag it down.

You use your index finger & swirl it around his pucker & Felix lets out a squeal at the feeling & his dick twitches in your mouth & his hips buck up slightly making you gag but you don't pull off. As he does this, his teeth accidentally clamp down slightly on your pussy lips & that plunges you to your first orgasm of the night & your hips completely raise off his face from the overstimulation as your orgasm squirts out of you, soaking his face & hair, dripping off onto your now wet couch & he has to forcefully kickstart his brain & pulls you off his cock as your body stops tensing up so much.

"S-sorry, didn't know I c-could even do tha-" you whimper, panting. "Heyyyy don't apologise, that's the hottest thing I have ever ever seen." Felix cuts you off before he kisses you, your own orgasm now transferring onto your face & you groan into his lips at such a dirty yet hot act.

"You wanna keep going? We don't need to or anything, no pressure!" He blabbers out, glossy eyes looking into your completely blown out ones. "You can actually keep going? I'm surprised, follow me." You respond, giving him a cheeky smile as you use all your strength to properly balance yourself as you stand up & take Felix's hand, giggling as you lead him across your vanilla smelling apartment, the naked, cum soaked & sweaty blonde following your lead, letting his other hand wander over your frame, holding your waist & giving your ass a spank.

Felix kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, only taking a second to admire the decorations in your bedroom before he is plopping you on the bed & getting on top of you, his hand resting on the bed beside your head as he uses his other hand to start toying with your clit gently, not wanting to overstimulate you too much & your hips thrust towards his fingers on instinct.

"Put it in, Felix, please, want it inside." you purr, your hand grazing over his abs with your nails before grabbing onto his still hard cock & pumping it slowly, it still being wet with your spit & his hips jerk into your hand, a growl coming from his chest, spit almost leaving his lips.

"Really? Your cunt seems more than happy with just my finger, soaking for me." he smirks as he bites his bottom lip, trying to not let his own moan slip out from how turned on he actually is as he speeds up his motion on your clit in a messy manner, the wetness making his fingers slightly slip. "Please Lix, don't you want it?" you ask as a rhetorical question as your breath is staggering, trying to get more friction from his small fingers & Felix chuckles lightly as he begins blushing.

"You got a con-" "just use it without, I'm on the pill, promise." you speak up, a convincing look in your eyes. Felix nods & tries to compose himself with the nerves, honestly scared if he is gonna cum almost instantly.

He spreads your legs a bit further with his knee as he leans backwards on his knees, his cock poking the inside of your thigh as he kisses the parts of your legs he can reach while you're holding them & you melt into his kisses. "You're so pretty, want you to myself." he murmurs, mostly to himself but he doesn't take his eyes off yours & your ears turn as red as your cheeks.

"Then take me, I'm waiting on you." you remark, biting your lip as you smile up at him, silently praying his cock will slip inside you & not just poke against it. Felix's freckles become surrounded by a rosey colour & he moves his cock with his hand & drags it up & down your folds, making you both sigh in contempt.

You can both hear the light squelching sounds as his cock grinds through your wetness & it bumps against your clit every time his cock moves, making you grow beyond impatient & you reach down to try nudge his penis but he swats your hand away before you can reach it.

"Don't be so pushy, I'm about to cum as it is." he half jokes & you giggle at his words & he returns the action as he lets a glob of spit fall directly onto your cunt & it clenches around air as it dribbles down your clit & Felix sighs to himself at the sight as he pumps himself few times, slowly before he aligns himself up & slowly pushes himself inside until his balls hit against your skin & he whines as he feels your warmth, taking in the feeling of how tight & wet you still are despite an orgasm.

Your toes curl as he buries himself to the hilt, him filling you in such a delicious way, not too deep that it's uncomfortable but you can still feel it already snuggled up against your G-spot & you're honestly surprised he hasn't came yet with how desperate he's been all night.

"You're filling me up so well Lixie, m-move please." you plead & Felix has to take a moment to collect himself, he is honestly shocked that you have lasted this long, usually, the very few girls he has been with & his one short term ex would be falling asleep after giving him one orgasm or two maximum, not letting him to fully ever tire himself out so for someone he has met online only no longer than ten days ago who is actually able to keep up with him, he thinks it's a complete match made in heaven & he thinks his endless prayers have been answered.

Felix holds his breath as he moves his hips backwards before pushing back in, watching your face before picking up the pace. "Y-you look so pretty, p-perfect tits." he babbles as he stares at them, his eyes switching between your face & your boobs bouncing with each thrust, his lips parted & also shiny with his spit from where he has been constantly licking at them, his bottom one a bit redder than the top from where he has been nibbling at it all night.

"Go harder, p-please, you're s-so beauti, fuck." you stutter, your fingers reaching to pinch your nipples, your eyes going cross eyed, your pussy completely gushing wetness around Felix's base, clenching uncontrollably.

Felix growls at your words as he picks up his pace & he lets out a high pitched squeal as he pulls out & cums, it landing all over your lower stomach & a few drops landing just under your tits.

Felix pants & you remove one of your hands from your nipple & drag it down to smother the tip of your fingers in his orgasm & you hold it up to his lips & he looks down at you, a devilish look in his eyes as he opens his mouth that tiny bit extra to accept your fingers & you both hum in unison as he swallows around your fingers, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

You both don't break away eye contact as you flip you both over so you're now straddling him & Felix realises he is actually getting softer after orgasms & he basically has heart shaped eyes. "Still hard? You really are inane, match made in heaven." you purr, slightly repositioning so your bare cunt is resting on his slightly softened cock, but it really doesn't take long for it to get hard enough again as your pussy snuggs itself right on top of it.

"I told you I can go all night, You're just too good." He replies, his blonde hair wet with sweat & sticking to his pretty face & you hum at his words. "Do you think you can handle one more, hmm?" you ask, already reaching back to fondle his balls again & he nods instantly, his facial expression going back to a needy, desperate one straight away & you can't help but giggle as you pick up his pretty, red cock in your hand again before sinking back down onto your new favourite thing you've ever touched or saw.

You sink back down until your bodies fully connect & a shiver shoots up your spine & you let out a broken hum as you use whatever strength you somehow have to begin moving your hips in a comfortable way as you begin bouncing, laying your hands on Felix's abs for support, not failing to admire how good they look & feel.

"Holy shit, like-just like that y/n, why are you s-so good, shoulda met way-s-sooner" he rambles as his hands become restless, dragging over your ass, tummy, waist, tits & he drags his fingers over your nipples, making you hiss at the feeling.

"Cum with me, mkay? Paint me inside too, dare ya" you cry, your eyes struggling to stay open as you have to physically stop yourself from flopping forwards but its no use as he latches his arms around your back & pulls you towards him & plants his feet to the floor & uses the rest of his little energy to begin fucking up into you at a harsh pace, making you squeal.

You unbury your face from his neck & you lock lips with him & you both exchange drool, it having a slightly salty taste from his own cum he suckled from your digits just a few minutes ago as felix starts to rub over your left nipple, pinching it & it makes you yelp.

You begin clenching uncontrollably & you start to struggle to kiss him back & your legs begin to feel like jelly & start to give out & if it wasn't for felix basically holding you in place you wouldn't even be moving. "F-felix, fuck, yes! go'n cum, s-so-too good" you wail, your eyes scrunched together as you break your lips apart due to none of you actually being able to breathe, both of your lips a way darker shade, your lips & chins covered in each others drool by this point.

"Cum inside? It's comi-coming, s-shit, you g-gonna take it all?" he stutters, his brain trying its hardest to float away & he is basically forcing himself to keep even a single thought inside. "yes, please, please pl-please! I'll be so good, keep it in for you, c-can eat it out me later" you respond, your pussy dripping a white ring around his base, soaking his pubes.

"G- such a good g-girl, it's c-coming, cumming." He screeches in s raspy voice & as his cock pulsates in you as his balls drain that little bit extra & as you feel another few thick ropes up into your cervix, your own orgasm pours over you like a bucket of cold water & you let out a shriek as your entire body begins shaking in his hold & you throw your head against him & you bite into his shoulder, making him whine as his hips slow down.

You both stay like this for a minute, just catching your breath back for the most part, but you can't really help but enjoy listening to his heart racing inside his chest.

Felix slowly pulls his now actually softening cock out of you, a few droplets of both his cum & your own wetness dripping back onto his pelvis & he wraps his arms around you but then moves them down to his sides. "Are you sue you wanna hug? I-i don't need aftercare if you don't wanna do that, I know it was just casual sex." he says in a soft voice, sounding a bit upset despite trying to sound casual.

You pick your head up & look down at his pretty face & see the slight pout & confused look on your face & you 'tut' at him jokingly before you wriggle your hand under his neck & rub your nose against his neck. "Don't be so silly, Lix, i'll not just leave you after you just had four orgasms, I'll get you some water n stuff once my breath is back." you reply, weaving the hand that's resting under his neck into his soft but wet hair & fiddle with it in your fingers.

Despite you not being able to see it, Felix can't help but smile at your words as he returns his arms around you & relaxes a lot more. "You're a softie, who woulda thought. I've never had anyone or anything make me actually fully enjoy an orgasm until tonight, I'm actually drained for the first time ever." he chuckles & you can't stop yourself from softly giggling. "Glad to hear, I'm actually exhausted though so we aren't going again till I get feeling back in my body." Felix simpers at your words & nods his head.

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Felix doesn't stay the night, him not wanting to overstay & you not knowing if you should ask him or not, thinking it was too intimate to do so.

Felix leaves after another hour or so, you fed him some cereal as it was all you could be bothered to make & you gave him a bottle of water & he dug through your drawers to find some sleep clothes & helped you clean up with a damp towel from your bathroom.

You both agreed to stay in contact with each other, for sexual reasons... obviously, but you both start sending each other memes, random photos of things Felix bakes, pretty flowers you walk past on your way to work & so on... that's how its all started for you both.

A/N: I think I liked the idea of this more than it actually turned on so I'm sorry if I haven't done this as much justice as I could have done, I've been going through a lot lately with a lot of personal issues & I got admitted so I'm also sorry for not being active, I'm gonna get back on track soon enough. I have a lot of requests & I am trying to get around to them so please just be patient, feel free to send me thoughts/asks but thoughts get published first since they're a lot smaller. I hope you all enjoyed this piece though if you've reached this far<3

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[idyllic-ghost]

title: Stay in Character! pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, warnings: reader has a sister with a kid, mentions of childbirth, mentions of stress, anxiety over moving in with a partner synopsis: You're on the verge of panicking - you still have moving boxes to pack and move into your boyfriend's apartment, but you can't leave the fact that your sister is giving birth to her second child while you're babysitting her first. However, your stress slowly dissipates when you walk into your cluttered kitchen and see your boyfriend playing pretend with your niece. wordcount: 5.9k

rating: PG 15

a/n: i keep wanting to write soft fluffy vernon blurbs idk what's happening

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

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The bumbling sounds from your tiny kitchen caught your attention as soon as you got out of the phone call with your sister's husband. Once one anxious thought was gone, another one appeared out of the blue - what were they doing in there? They weren't messing with the boxes, were they? You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough for you to have an interaction without yelling.

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked into your kitchen to deal with the next situation. The walls were covered with stacked boxes, so you almost couldn't see the old wallpaper. The noises were coming from your kitchen table, which still wasn't packed up. Vernon was sitting at the table with your niece, and the two of them had put out a paper plate with whatever snacks they could find, three glasses, and a bottle of water.

Your shoulders relaxed as you watched the two of them play pretend. They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. However, as soon as he saw you come in, he took off the glasses and sent you a gentle smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

It was all so ridiculous. Your sister was in the middle of an unexpectedly early childbirth, in the middle of you getting ready to move into your boyfriend's apartment, and here he was: playing dress-up with your niece. In some weird way, it was just what you needed - how Vernon could know you had no idea.

"She's fine," you finally replied with a tired smile. "It was a little bit of a surprise, but everything seems to be okay... what are the two of you doing?"

"We're just-"

"Stay in character!" your niece complained.

Vernon mouthed "Sorry," before putting the sunglasses back on and turning back to your niece. With his usual, matter-of-fact voice, he asked her what she thought about the weather. Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.

"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

You could see Vernon have to restrain himself from laughing, his hand flying up to cover his smile. After clearing his throat, he nodded in agreement. You should be packing up the last of your stuff, the moving truck will arrive soon, and you should probably text your sister's husband again to ask him to send you updates. But right now, you could feel how tired you were in your bones. So, you sat down on the third chair and let Vernon pour you a glass of water. Then, he picked up the paper plate and held it out to you.

"Gummy worm?" he asked.

"How old are those?" You chuckled as you inspected the candies on the plate.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "But the cookies are from last week, I think."

You took a cookie and silently thanked him. Vernon and your niece continued their conversation about rain, which took a sharp turn when Vernon mentioned thunder - which was apparently very controversial in your niece's eyes. Any anxious feelings you had over moving in with Vernon were slowly disappearing. For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together.

"Bathroom break!" your niece suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to signal that the scene was over.

She hopped off her chair and walked away to your small bathroom. You had already taken all of the boxes out of there, so you knew that she would be okay on her own.

"She's a little director," Vernon said.

"She is," you murmured.

He gave you a long look, a silent "Are you really okay?" to which you responded with a nod. Vernon moved his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you and slowly patting your head.

"You're doing good, babe," he muttered against the top of your head.

"Thank you."

"I'll go back to packing up and you could sit with her for a bit," he suggested. "Or I could do anything else you need."

"Packing sounds good," you hummed. "I just need to make sure she's not feeling neglected or anything, you know? My sister was worried."

Vernon let go of you and grabbed your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He was still wearing the scarf and the sunglasses, and you could no longer keep a straight face. You snort and turn away from him, trying to shield yourself from breaking out into even more laughter.

"What?" he asked and tried to make you look at him again. "Am I not pretty?"

After taking a deep breath, you look back at him with a contained grin. Vernon cocks his head at you, clearly aware of the way he looks now but also determined to keep you smiling. Your niece eventually came back from the bathroom and climbed back onto her chair. The two of you looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat.

"Bathroom break's over!" she chimed.

"Honey," you said carefully. "Is it okay if Vernon goes away to pack some more stuff and I stay here with you?"

Your niece glanced back and forth between the two of you before extending her hand to Vernon. He carefully removed his scarf and glasses and placed them into her small, outstretched palm.

"You've been replaced!" your niece exclaimed dramatically as she handed you the items. "I'll give you the roll as long as you stay in character!"

As you and Vernon erupted into laughter, your niece continued to mimic the voice of a director before she eventually joined you in your mirth. Everything that could go wrong today, did go wrong - yet, it felt bearable with Vernon by your side. Observing his banter with your niece might have seemed like a man simply engaging in make-believe with his partner's niece others, but to you, it was a deeply serene and comforting scene. You knew with certainty that your future was in reliable hands.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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[thatlittlered]

lovefool | aaron hotchner

warning(s): 18+, detailed description of sexual acts (m!masturbation) under the cut!

GIF by @scuttling

previous parts

author's note: feast on this, my metaphorical children, because more and better things are coming very soon. I also made a masterlist for your reading convenience.

Follow me @MadeofLilies at Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

Aaron finds himself quite disoriented when he wakes up next to you. Smooth cotton on his cheek, mellow morning light peeking through the blinds. The warmth of a soft body prevails over all. Chests touching, limbs entangled. It is almost becoming too warm under the covers, or it might just be the rush of realization.

The lovely smell of your freshly washed hair brings him closer; so close that he might nudge your cheek with his nose if he moves a single inch but he doesn’t dare. It would be the first ever act of intimacy between you in daylight.

You must have felt his breath on your face because you stir until there’s no space left between you. There is nowhere to look but in each other’s eyes.

It should feel weirder than it does.

He looks so young under this light; his face littered with moles that you would like to kiss. His hand dares to move to your eyebrow and settles the hair there tenderly before moving downward. The touch of his thumb might as well be a kiss when he’s tracing your cheekbone, your nose, your mouth.

“Good morning.”

His voice is hoarse and it makes you laugh.

“Good morning, Aaron.”

Neither of you wants to move, but you decide to take the plunge, “I’m going to make some coffee, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes his time getting up, looking around your room for more pieces of you to remember. He is drawn to your vanity where your perfume and hairbrush lie. You’ve left out a toothbrush for him; ever thoughtful.

When he finally joins you in the small kitchen, you’re a sight for sore eyes and you smile when you see him, pushing a steaming cup of coffee his way.

“Are you hungry?”

He sits so sweetly across from you on the kitchen island.

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Your feet touch, but neither of you moves away.

“You don’t eat breakfast?”

“I have cereal with Jack, mostly because he asks me to.”

The ease with which he had touched and kissed you the night before has dissipated, ephemeral confidence melting away to leave behind a man unsure of what to say or do. He wishes you had met a long time ago, when he could have given you the best parts of him. His best now is… meager. Those parts of him seem long gone, or more accurately, forcefully taken.

Now everything is an impossible decision to make. Every moment of intimacy comes with the fear of imminent darkness. He must dare to break way.

“We have cereal.”

You get up to grab the box from the shelf and when you turn around, he’s almost caging you between the counter and his body. His hands are on your face again, holding you in place so he can kiss you with the taste of coffee on his tongue, which begs for entry.

You both willfully ignore the tension building up between your bodies and how easy it would be to give in completely right now. It’s too soon, way too soon. He was simply taken with the smallest bit of skin that had peaked through when you reached to grab the box; wanted to remember what you taste like, to break away.

His hands are still on your face as he speaks, forehead to forehead.

“I can’t stay long; I have to pick up Jack from his aunt’s. I promised him we’d spend the day together.”

“That’s okay, I understand.”

He kisses you again but lingers, one last taste before he has to go.

“I would really like to take you out to dinner on our next day off.”

-.-.-

The days that follow are torture. You’re all drowning in backed up cases and the endless stream of paperwork that follows. The peaceful night of sleeping in each other’s arms and the coffee laced kisses are but a distant memory amidst this chaos.

Yet, in the rare moments when everything slows, it’s hard to keep his eyes off you, especially today. Especially when you’re wearing that red blouse. Aaron’s seen it before, appreciated it just as much as then against your complexion, but there’s something exhilarating, sinful about having seen it hang in your closet. It puts everything in a new perspective; this tantalizing secret between the two of you waiting to be realized again and again and again, if he can help it.

If only you had the time.

It takes all the self-restraint he can find within him not to approach you at the hotel. It would be easy, so easy, wouldn’t raise the faintest suspicion if he just knocked on your door after hours and you could talk – just a little. But, he can’t. He won’t. There are still limits.

Emotional exhaustion is a trap, with the mind begging for rest and the body ignoring its pleas till collapse. His body begs for you. Pleads to be held and kissed and gently lulled to sleep now that it knows the feeling.

The shower pressure is sharp, unkind, nothing like you, but the warm fog that follows… he can almost see before him the soft plane of your bare shoulder, the drops of water on your collarbone. He had not dared to look past, but he can only imagine and oh, he does. He could have surrendered himself completely, laid on top of you in the small bathtub in a mess of clothed and naked limbs. He could have allowed -begged of you- to touch him, feel any part of him you wanted to and then grant him the gift of doing the same. The smoothness of your wet body under his hands, the desperation in your kisses.

He can almost feel you on his fingertips right now, so, he gives in. Takes himself in hand to relieve the almost painful feeling. It’s muscle memory really, there should be nothing truly sensual about it but he can’t keep the images out of his head. His body recalls every detail of your touch and his mind takes advantage.

Images and feign sensations of your feather light touch on his stomach, trailing down to pay attention where he most needs you to. Your thumb presses delicately on the head, teasing him into a desperate awakening of his every sense. He is leaking for you already and you don’t let it go to waste, dragging your thumb up and down slowly until his precum spreads all over. It makes it easier to go further, pull the extra skin down gently and enjoy the sheer magnitude of him.

He jolts in your hand at the movement, but stays perfectly still after in fear that you will stop. You wouldn’t, not ever. A large vein runs on the bottom part of his cock and you can’t help but trace it, watching the way he reacts. He jolts again, begging for more, more of whatever you can give him and you take the hint. Your hand wraps around his base completely, enveloping him in softness he would die for, before beginning to move up and down in long, slow motions.

You kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck and he is about to collapse in front of you, nothing but a desperate, needy mess for you to play with. He is painfully close, can’t possibly even keep his eyes open and you can tell, so you go faster, harder. He comes with your name in his mouth.

Everything slows down from there. The spell of the warm shower fog once again wears off and when he opens his eyes, it’s painfully clear you’ve taken over his whole existence, so much so that he must fantasize about the things he’d like to do to you, and things he’d like you to do to him, in order to get through the night.

Come morning, when you’re all gathered in the jet and going home, he can’t look you in the eye.

You notice.